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Scanned  from  the  collections  of 
The  Library  of  Congress 


AUDIO-VISUAL  CONSERVATION 
at  77w  LIBRARY  .it  CONGRESS 


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for  Audio  Visual  Conservation 

www.loc.gov/avconservation 

Motion  Picture  and  Television  Reading  Room 
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Recorded  Sound  Reference  Center 
vwvw.loc.gov/rr/record 


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RALPH  EDWARDS 

JIMMY  DURANTE 

RIGHT  TO  HAPPINESS 

JACK  BERC- 

WENDY  WARREN 


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Suspauit^ 


fits  them  all 


Whether  your  figure  is  toothpickian,  splendiferous  or  overly  endowed, 
you  con  hurdle  the  girdle  and  look  svelte  v/ithout  garter  belt  v^hen  you 
wear  Suspants,  the  wonder  undie.  Wear  it  with  garters  to  keep  your 
stockings  up  or  without  garters  on  stockingless  occasions. 
There's  a  style  and  size  for  almosf  every  figure  in  a  fabric  for  just  the 
tummy  and  hip  control  you  need. 


RUNPROOF  RAYON 

$1.50 

DOUBLE  WOVEN 

$1.98 

LACY  BRIEF 

$1.50 

KNIT  WITH  LATON 

$1.98 

ALADDIN  PRINT 

$1.50 

MADE  OF  NYLON 

$2.50 

UNDIES 


SLIPS 


UHXAU 


GOWNS 


BLUE     SWAN     MILLS,     Division     o<     McKay      Products     Corp. 
350        Fifth        Avenue,        New        York         1,N.      Y. 


II 


A  McKAY  PRODUCT 
Pat.  App.  for 


By  Sonia  Lee 


As  THE  TOWERS  of  Manhattan 
^  gleamed  in  the  morning  sun, 
Clara's  hopeful  young  heart  poixnded 
with  eagerness  and  expectation. 
"What  a  beautiful  city!"  she 
thought.  "My  city  to  be!" 

There  would  be  so  many  fascinat- 
ing places  to  see  ...  so  many  famous 
people  to  meet .  .  .  such  an  interest- 
ing job  in  one  of  the  big  studios.  And, 
of  course,  a  wonderful  man  whom 
she  would  some  day  meet  and  marry. 

The  vast  catacombs  of  brick  and 
mortar  held  no  terror  for  her  what- 
soever. With  her  courage,  her  abiHty , 
her  looks,  how  could  she  fail?  As  the 
train  shot  into  the  timnel  she  took  a 
last  look  at  the  tall  bmldings,  now 
warming  irnder  the  rising  sim. 

"It's  my  oyster,  my  great,  big. 


beautiful  oyster!  And  I'm  the  one  to 
open  it." 

At  first,  things  seemed  to  go  beau- 
tifully. She  did  meet  a  few  famous 
people  .  .  .  but  they  didn't  see  her  a 
second  time.  She  did  land  a  good  job 
.  .  .  but  somehow  it  didn't  last.  And 
she  did  meet  the  dream  man  .  .  .  but 
he  didn't  last,  either. 

Poor  little,  cute  little  Clara!  She 
had  every  charm  but  one*.  But  with- 
out that  one  charm  it  is  pretty  hard 
for  anyone  to  get  by  for  very  long.  The 
cuter  they  are  the  harder  they  fall. 

In  romance  as  in  biisiness,  hah- 
tosis*  (unpleasant  breath),  whether 
chronic  or  occasional,  can  be  three 
strikes  against  you.  The  insidious 

ILLUSTRATED  BY  JACK  KEAY 


thing  is  that  you,  yourself,  may  not 
realize  when  you're  giulty.  But  why 
risk  offending  even  occasionally? 

Why  put  yourself  in  a  bad  light 
even  once  when  Listerine  Antiseptic 
is  such  a  simple,  deUghtful  extra  care- 
ful precaution  against  bad  breath? 
You  merely  rinse  the  mouth  with 
Listerine  Antiseptic,  and  instantly 
your  breath  becomes  sweeter,  fresh- 
er, less  likely  to  offend.  Never,  never 
omit  this  extra  careful  precaution  be- 
fore any  appointment  where  you 
want  to  be  at  your  best. 

While  some  cases  of  halitosis  are  of 
systemic  origin,  most  cases,  say  some 
authorities,  are  due  to  the  bacterial  fer- 
mentation of  tiny  food  particles  clinging 
to  mouth  sxirfaces.  Listerine  Antiseptic 
halts  such  fermentation,  then  over- 
comes the  odors  fermentation  causes. 


Advertisement 


•       •       •       •       • 


Don't  be 
Half -safe! 


by 
VALDA   SHERMAN 


At  the  first  blush  of  womanhood  many  mys- 
terious changes  take  place  in  your  body.  For 
instance,  the  apocrine  glands  under  your 
arms  begin  to  secrete  daily  a  type  of  perspi- 
ration you  have  never  known  before.  This  is 
closely  related  to  physical  development  and 
causes  an  unpleasant  odor  on  both  your  per- 
son and  your  clothes. 

There  is  nothing  "wrong"  with  you.  It's  just 
another  sign  you  are  now  a  woman,  not  a 
girl ...  so  now  you  must  keep  yourself  safe 
with  a  truly  effective  underarm  deodorant. 

Two  dangers— Underarm  odor  is  a  real  handi- 
cap at  this  romantic  age,  and  the  new  cream 
deodorant  Arrid  is  made  especially  to  over- 
come this  very  difficulty.  It  kills  this  odor 
on  contact  in  2  seconds,  then  by  antiseptic 
action  prevents  the  formation  of  all  odor  for 
48  hours  and  keeps  you  shower-bath  fresh. 
It  also  stops  perspiration  and  so  protects 
against  a  second  danger— perspiration  stains. 
Since  physical  exertion,  embarrassment  and 
emotion  can  now  cause  apocrine  glands 
to  fairly  gush  perspiration,  a  dance,  a  date, 
an  embarrassing  remark  may  easily  make 
you  perspire  and  offend,  or  ruin  a  dress. 

All  deodorants  are  not  alike -so  remember 
—no  other  deodorant  tested  stops  perspira- 
tion and  odor  so  completely  yet  so  safely  as 
new  Arrid.  Its  safety  has  been  proved  by 
doctors.  That's  why  girls  your  age  buy  more 
Arrid  than  any  other  age  group.  In  fact,  more 
men  and  women  everjfwhere  use  Arrid  than 
any  other  deodorant.  It's  antiseptic,  used  by 
117,000   nurses. 

Intimate  protection  is  needed-so  protect 
yourself  with  this  snowy,  stainless  cream  that 
smooths  on  and  disappears.  This  new  Arrid, 
with  the  amazing  new  ingredient  Creamogen, 
will  not  crystallize  or  dry  out  in  the  jar.  The 
American  Laundering  Institute  has  awarded 
Arrid  its  Approval  Seal— harmless  to  fabrics. 
Arrid  is  safe  for  the  skin— non-irritating— can 
be  used  right  after  shaving. 

Don't  be  half-safe.  During  this  "age  of  ro- 
mance" don't  let  perspiration  problems  spoil 
your  fun.  Don't  be  half-safe-be  Arrid-safe! 
Use  Arrid  to  be  sure.  Get  Arrid  now  at  your 
favorite  drug  counter  —  only  39^  plus  tax. 


lAdvertisement) 
•  •  •  •  • 


JANUARY,  1949 


VOL.  31,  ISO.  2 


RADIO 
MIRROR 


AlVD  TELEVISION 


KEYSTONE 


PtC^PlI  ON  THE  A4R 


John   Gibson 15 

Palsy  Lee  of  the  Breakfast  Club 21 

The  Truth  About  Truth  Or  Consequences by  Ralph  Edwards  24 

A  Heart  As  Big  As  His  Nose by  Eddie  Jackson  26 

Mrs.  Howard's  Day  Off— Picture  Story 28 

Bringing  Up  The  Boys by  Harriet  Hilliard  Nelson  30 

World  Full  Of  Neighbors .by  Jack  Berch  34 

■'Just  The  Two  Of  Us" by  Helen  Greco  Jones  36 

Curtain  Time — Picture  Story 38 

Traveler  Of  The  Month by  Tommy  Bartlett  48 

The  Right  To  Happiness — In  Pictures 50 

Your  Ticket  To  The  Fred  Waring  Show 54 

My  Husband,  Todd  Russell by  Edna  Russell  56 

Girl  Going  Places 68 

The  Time  Of  Their  Lives 94 

jiffl  ftniffiifiii«iiJffili^amliiiJiaLi  J 

Coming  Next  Month 3 

Radio  Mirror  Quiz 5 

What's  New  From  Coast  to  Coast by  Dale  Banks  6 

Facing  The  Music by  Duke  Ellington  12 

Look  At  The  Records by  Joe  Martin  16 

Collector's  Corner by  Conrad  Thibault  17 

Information  Booth 19 

Inside  Radio 64 

It's  Here 67 

Bachelors  Beware ! by  Mary  Jane  Fulton  20 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 22 

Family  Counselor by  Terry  Burton  23 

Between  The  Bookends by  Ted  Malone  42 

But  Once  A  Year — Cooking  Page by  Kate  Smith  58 

The  Philadelphia  TV  Story 44 

Matinee   Idol,   1949 46 

Coast  To  Coast  In  Television •  •  •  ■  47 

WLAW:  Flynn's  Fun 4 

KDKA:  Planning  For  Progress 8 

WIBG:  Neck-High  In  Sports 10 

WBEN:  "Just  Be  Natural" 14 


liJlO  MIRROR  RWBI 


One  Wonderftd  Day — A  Wendy  Warren  Novelette,  .by  Helen  Christy  Harris     60 
ON  THE  COVER:  Ralph  Edwards;  color  portrait  by  Hymie  Fink 


Editorial  Director 
FB£D   R.   SAMMIS 


Editor 
UOBIS  McFEBBAN 


Art  Director 
JACK  ZASOBIN 


Managing  Editor 
EVELYN  L.  FIOBE 


Associate  Art  Director 
FRANCES   MALY 


Editorial  Assistant 
JOAN     POLLOCK 


Research 
TEKU  GOTO 


Television 
JOAN   MURPHY   LLOYD 

Chicago  Office:  Editor,    HELEN   CAMBRIA   BOLSTAD 

Hollywood  Office:  Editor.  ANN   DAGGETT  Managing   Editor.    FRANCES   MORRIN 

Staff  Photographers.  HYMIE  FINK.  STERLING  SMITH       Assistant.  BETTY  JO  RICE 


RADIO    AND    TELEVISION    MIRROR,    puDlished    monthly    Dy    MACFADDEN    PUBLICATIONS.    INC.,    New    Vork,    N.  J 
GeS^Vil  "iTsi^TssSoitorisl  and   Advertising  ,Offlcas,_205   East  42nd   St., _  New   York    17     N.    Y     Hollj^ood-Beverly 


are  taking  unnecessary  risk.   The  contents  of  this 


C^^fVlgfC'TfUfe^ 


Phil  Harris  is  bedtime-story  reader 
for  his  daughters  Phyllis  and  Alice. 


PHIL  HARRIS  and  his  loveller-than- 
ever  wife,  Alice  Faye,  share  the  Radio 
Mirror  cover,  February  issue,  along  with 
the  Harris  small  fry.  And  a  very  pretty 
valentine  picture  they  make,  too.  More: 
"The  Happy  Harrises",  a  story  about 
Alice  and  Phil  and  their  family,  told  by  a 
long-time  friend. 


Double  feature:  the  "Come  and  Visit" 
story  in  January  takes  you  calling  on 
Chester  Lauck  and  Tuffy  Goff  and  their 
families — Lum  'n'  Abner  on  the  air.  Two 
separate  stories,  packaged  as  one,  with 
plenty  of  pictures,  both  color  and  black 
and  white,  of  both  families. 


We  don't  very  often  make  predictions, 
but  here  is  one  we're  willing  to  stand  be- 
hind: you'll  be  hearing  a  lot  about  a  young 
fellow  neuned  Bill  Lawrence.  (You'll  prob- 
ably be  hearing,  too,  the  "swooning" 
groans  of  the  bobby-soxers,  or  have  they 
too,  gone  out  of  style?)  Swoons  or  no,  we 
give  you  Bill  Lawrence  next  month,  and 
with  him  his  discoverer,  Arthur  Godfrey. 
Both  of  them  in  color! 


Helen  Trent,  designer  of  glamorous  gowns 
for  glamorous  moving  picture  stars,  takes 
a  backward  look  "through  the  years"  since 
The  Romance  of  Helen  Trent  first  went  on 
the  air.  Four  pages  of  story-in-pictures, 
with  one  full  page,  full  color  portrait  of 
Helen. 


That,  of  course,  isn't  all.  February  brings 
much  more:  an  exciting  picture  visit  to  one 
of  the  most  talked -about  programs  in  radio: 
Stop  Th°  Music;  My  Father,  Groucho,  by 
Arthur  Marx;  a  new  When  A  Girl  Marries 
feature  which  will  run  every  month,  and  in 
which  all  you  readers  will  be  invited  to 
participate;  and  many  more.  February 
Radio  Mirror,  on  sale  Friday,  January  7. 


One  Permanent  Cost  $15...the  TONI  only  ^2 


Make  your  first  New  Year  Resolution— a 
Toni  Home  Permanent!  Yes,  decide  right 
now  to  give  yourself  a  Toni  and  have 
lovelier,  more  natural-looking  waves  than 
ever  before !  But  first  you'll  want  to  know: 

Will  TONI  work  on  my  hair? 

Yes,  Toni  waves  any  kind  of  hair  that 
will  take  a  permanent,  including  gray, 
dyed,  bleached  or  baby-fine  hair. 

Is  if  easy  to  do? 

Amazingly  easy.  Instructions  in  each  Toni 
Kit  show  you  how  with  simple  step  by 
step  pictures.  It's  easy  as  rolHng  your 
hair  up  on  curlers.  No  wonder  more  than 
2  million  women  a  month  use  Toni. 

Will  TONI  save  me  time? 

Toni  puts  half-a-day  back  in  your  life. 
For  you  give  yourself  a  Toni  wave  right 
at  home.  You  are  free  to  do  whatever  you 
Vant  while  the  wave  is  "taking". 

How  long  'will  my  TONI  v/ave  last? 

Your  Toni  wave  is  guaranteed  to  last  just 
as  long  as  any  $15  beauty  shop  permanent 
—or  you  get  back  every  cent  you  paid. 


NOW  over)i(million  women 

a  month  use  Toni 


Hov^  much  will  I  save  v^ith  TONI? 

You  save  money  not  just  once  with  Toni 
—but  every  time  you  give  yourself  a  lovely 
Toni  wave!  For  the  Toni  Kit  with  plastic 
curlers  costs  only  $2.  You  can  use  the 
plastic  curlers  again  and  again.  So,  for 
your  second  Toni  wave,  all  you  need  is 
the  Toni  Refill  Kit.  It  costs  only  $1  .  .  . 
yet  there's  no  finer  permanent  at  any  price! 

Which  twin  has  the  TONI? 

Attractive  Frances  and  Bernadette  Han- 
son live  in  New  York  City.  Frances,  the 
twin  on  the  right,  says:  "My  Toni  Wave 
was  soft  and  natural-looking  right  from 
the  start."  Bernadette  says,  "We're  Toni 
Twins  from  now  on!" 


FLYNrS 


Arthur  Flynn  (1)  on 
top  of  building  de- 
scribes Mar.  17  parade 
in  Boston  while  army 
bombers  circle  above. 


L.  to  r.:   Dave  Egan,  writer  of  the  Boston  Daily  Record's 
"The   Colonel   Says,"   Flynn,   restaurateur   Jimmie   O'Keefe. 


D 


From    Jimmie    O'Keefe's    restaurant    Flynn    quizzes    people 
thrice    weekly.    Wrong    guess    wins    dinner    on    the    house. 


I  ID   you   ever   go   into   a   nicely   stocked   cellar,   and 
standing  in  the  center  of  the  bottle-framed  enclosure 
in  all  the  glory  and  thrill  of  anticipation,  wonder 
what  vintage  you  would  taste  first? 

Well,  that's  how  Arthur  Flynn  feels  when  he  broad- 
casts his  Lunch  With  Jimmy  O'Keefe  three  times 
weekly  from  the  famous  restaurant  of  the  same  name 
on  Boylston  Street  in  Boston. 

The  variety  of  people  he  gets  an  opportunity  to  inter- 
view for  WLAW's  New  England  radio  listeners  tickles 
him  no  end  for  through  the  portals  of  O'Keefe's  pass 
daily  the  great  and  the  humble  .  .  .  those  whose  names 
are  frequently  chronicled  in  the  press,  and  those  who 
come  just  for  the  sights. 

They  are  the  sports  greats  of  yesterday  and  today  .  .  . 
personalities  of  stage,  screen  and  radio,  famed  writers 
.  .  .  and  the  usual  run  of  everyday  folks  who  come  to  the 
Hub  for  shopping,  the  theater  and  the  baseball  games. 

And  most  of  them  talk  with  Flynn  over  the  50,000 
watt  WLAW  microphone  which  carries  their  voices 
across  New  England  from  Portland  to  Newport. 

The  diamond  flashes,  like  Eddie  Stanky  of  the  current 
Braves  and  Jumpin'  Joe  Dugan  of  the  Babe  Ruth  Yan- 
kees tell  of  their  experiences;  Clipper  Smith,  coach  of 
the  Boston  Yanks  football  team;  Jack  Britton,  former 
welterweight  champion,  Baby  Green,  the  Green  Bay 
Packers  power  house;  Dave  Egan,  song  writer  of  "The 
Colonel  Says"  column  of  the  Boston  Daily  Record; 
Allan  Frazer,  the  "Around  Boston"  commentator  for  the 
same  paper,  and  countless  others  who  make  the  days 
interesting  for  radio  listeners  with  timely  and  pointed 
comment  and  opinion  on  this  matter  and  that. 

Flynn,  as  he  courses  through  the  restaurant,  mike  in 
hand,  converses  over  the  air  with  an  average  of  25 
people  a  day.  He  has  numbers  drawn  for  a  lucky  table 
at  each  broadcast.  If  those  seated  at  the  table  can 
answer  two  out  of  the  three  easy  sports  questions  he 
asks,  they  get  tickets  for  a  major  ball  game  in  Boston. 
If  they  don't,  the  lunch  is  on  the  house. 

The  program,  designed  and  produced  by  Flynn,  was 
made  especially  for  him  in  the  opinion  of  listeners.  One 
of  New  England's  best  known  and  most  popular  sports- 
casters,  he  speaks  to  his  guests  and  his  radio  audience 
with  authority  of  background.  While  he  excelled  in 
school  and  college  in  all  major  sports,  he  found  his  niche 
in  boxing  and  before  retiring  from  the  ring  had  annexed 
titles  as  New  England  professional  middleweight  cham- 
pion and  world's  amateur  welterweight  champion. 

He  presents  the  blow-by-blow  account  of  bouts 
staged  by  the  Callahan  Athletic  Club  of  Boston  and  an- 
nounced exclusively  over  WLAW,  and  his  work  in  this 
particular  field  last  year  earned  him  the  title  as  one  of 
the  ten  best  fightcasters  in  the  nation  as  selected  by  the 
New  York  Enquirer. 


RADIO  MIRROR  QUIZ 


1.  This  star  of  his 
own  show  was  once 
a  child  golf  cham- 
pion.   Who   is    he? 


2.  You  know  him 
as  Spike  Jones, 
what     is     his     real 


3.  This  popular 
comedy  team  got 
their  start  when  the 
scheduled  talent 
for  a  show  failed  to 
appear.  Who  are 
they? 


4.  Arthur  Godfrey 
was  once  a  (a)  Taxi 
driver  (b)  Planta- 
tion owner  ( c ) 
Typewriter  repair- 
man. 


5.  What  well-known  quizmaster  once  taught 
social  psychology? 

6.  Tonsil  trouble  changed  a   sweet  soprano 
to  a  contralto,  made  her  famous.  Who  is  she? 

7.  How   long    does    it    take    a    pineapple    to 
ripen  ? 

8.  How    many    miles    of    blood    vessels    are 
there  in  the  human  body? 


ANSWERS 


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pJOJ.5uo-]    S33UOJJ  '9 

6ui)i  peay  uijop  -g 

J3A|JQ   IXDJ_  -^ 

3oy  -sj^^j  puD  -Ji/vi  •£ 

buoj^sujjy  As|pui-|  '3 

sn>|3og  LUjp  'I 


ANN  BLYTH,  STARRING  IN 

UNIVERSAL-INTERNATIONAL'S 

"RED  CANYON".  COLOR  BY 

TECHNICOLOR 


I  never  had  even  a  blind  date. 

THEN— these  words  in  a  magazine 
caught  my  eye  .  .  . 

Ann  Blyth  believes  soft,  feminine- 
looking  hands  have  tremendous  ap- 
peal for  a  man.  Says  Ann,  "I  smooth 
my  hands  with  Jergens  Lotion." 

That  very  night  I  started  using  Jergens. 


SOON— it  happened  — my  roommate's 
brother  asked  me  out!  Now  we've  a  date 
for  every  evening!  And  I've  noticed,  Paul 
loves  to  hold  my  Jergens-smoothed  hands! 
Your  hands  can  be  lovelier— softer, 
smoother  than  ever— vwth  today's  richer 
Jergens  Lotion.  Because  it's  a  liquid, 
Jergens  quickly  furnishes  the  softening 
moisture  thirsty  skin  needs.  And  Jergens 
Lotion  is  never  oily  or  sticky.  Still  only  10^ 
to  $1.00  plus  tax. 


Hollywood  Stars  Use 
Jergens  Lotion  7  to  1  Over 
Any  Other  Hand  Care 


Contains  generous  samples  of  Jergens  Lotion, 

^W  yOUf^ —       Powder,  Face  Cream  and  Dryad  Deodorant.  Send  10(»  to 
,     ^-,.,^  cover  handling  and  postage  to  The  Andrew  Jergens  Co., 

Box6,Dept.40A,  Cincinnati  14,  Ohio. 
Sorry,  offer  good  in  U.S.A.  only,  expires  Dec.  31,  1949. 


In  order  to  do  justice  to  the  first  American  airing  of 
Flaubert's  "Madame  Bovary,"  the  producers  and  the  cast 
spent  many  hours  rehearsing  and  going  over  the  script. 


WONDER  how  many  listeners  are  aware  of  the  kind  of 
warfare  that  goes  on  behind  the  big  network  scenes? 
The  current  one  in  competition  for  the  exclusive  services 
of  stars  is  a  honey.  CBS  got  in  the  first  lick  by  signing  Amos 
and  Andy  to  that  two-million-dollar  outright-sale  contract 
and  by  sewing  up  the  Rose  Bowl  games  for  the  next  three 
years.  CBS  is  planning  to  continue  this  policy  of  buying 
talent  outright  and  then  selling  the  stars'  services  to  sponsors, 
but  now  NBC  is  getting  into  the  hassle  with  counter  bids  for 
top  name  stars — rumor  (at  this  date)  claiming  Jack  Benny 
and  Edgar  Bergen  involved.  Well,  this  is  one  way  for  per- 
formers to  get  rich  quick — and  who  can  say  that  after  their 
years  of  work  they  don't  deserve  it? 


Fay  Bainter  and  her  son  (left)  were  caught  by  the  TV 
camera  before  the  performance  began.  Like  a  Hollywood 
premiere,  the  audience  was  as  glamorous  as  the  stars. 


Marlene  relaxes  with  Dr.  Frank  Stanton,  CBS  president, 
after  her  portrayal  of  the  woman  who  ruined  many  lives  in 
her  fruitless  search  for  high  adventure  and  romantic  love. 


Hildegarde  won't  be  back  on  the  networks  for  some  time, 
but  you've  probably  been  hearing  her  on  all  local  radio  sta- 
tions in  a  transcribed  series  that  nets  her  more  money  than  a 
sponsored  web  show. 

*         *         « 

You  know,  when  people  all  around  are  crying  panic,  it's  a 
good  idea  to  take  a  look  at  reports  of  cut  and  dried  figures. 
There's  been  so  much  talk  about  money  being  tight  and  many 
programs  have  been  dropped  for  the  sake  of  economy  that, 
if  you  didn't  know,  you'd  suspect  radio  is  hitting  the  skids 
and  is  ready  for  the  receivers  to  take  over.  But  the  Com- 
merce Department  reports  show  that  network  income  for  the 
first  half  of  1948  is  about  8%  ahead   (Continued  on  page  9) 


BANKS 


Claude  Rains  looks  cheerful,  Meg  Mundy  grim. 
Meg  was  the   original  "Respectful  Prostitute." 


Van   Heflin   and    Director    Markle    look    more 
interested    in    each    other    than    Ruth    Woods. 


Another    attention-getter    at    the    opening    was 
John  Robert  Powers,  snapped  with  Ruth  Woods. 


In  a  pre-perf  ormance  shot,  the  television  cameras  snapped 
Marlene  with  her  attractive  daughter,  co-star  Van 
Heflin  and  Director  Fletcher  Markle,  second  from  right. 


I 


Besides  his  duties  as  continuity  chief  at  KDKA,  Dale  teaches  radio-writing  at  Duquesne  but  has  little 
time  to  correct  paper,  until  Thomas  Neill  and  dog  Taffy  are  asleep  and  he  and  Mary  Louise  are  alone. 


nmm  m 


As  an  English  character  comedian,  Dale  Jackson  recalls  his  stage 
success  when  he  and  Elizabeth  Kenyon  play  KDKA's  Windebanks. 


A  WIDE  and  varied  background  on  the  stage,  in  mo- 
tion pictures  and  radio  gives  Dale  Jackson,  KDKA 
continuity  chief,  a  rich  store  of  practical  experience. 

Born  and  educated  in  England,  Mr.  Jackson  came  to 
the  United  States  in  1921.  Before  World  War  I  he  had 
been  a  choir  singer  in  churches  near  his  home,  and  his 
first  work  in  this  country  was  as  a  concert  tenor. 

Until  1926  he  traveled  with  various  road  companies 
taking  part  in  light  opera,  musical  comedy  and  dramatic 
presentations.  In  1926  he  joined  the  Hollywood  Play- 
house, where  he  remained  for  nine  years. 

In  1932  he  became  program  director  of  Radio  btation 
KVOA  Tucson,  Arizona,  where  he  first  began  to  put 
his  stage  and  screen  work  to  good  use,  applying  enter- 
tainment techniques  and  psychology  to  radio. 

Mr  Jackson  first  came  to  Pittsburgh  in  1935,  when  in 
keeping  with  his  philosophy— watching  the  trends  and 
keeping  abreast  of  the  times— he  free  lanced  for  adver- 
tising agencies  and  with  Pittsburgh  radio  stations  as  a 
radio  actor,  writer  and  singer.  „,  ,  ■, 

New  York  was  his  next  stop.  There  he  prepared 
scripts  for  the  Pick  and  Pat  network  comedy  show,  and 
during  the  New  York  World's  Fair,  Jackson  was  master- 
of -ceremonies  in  "Merrie  England." 

At  the  close  of  the  World's  Fair,  Mr.  Jackson  became 
continuity  chief  at  WMFF,  Plattsburg,  N.  Y.  where  he 
remained  until  he  joined  KDKA's  staff  in  1940 

At  KDKA  Mr.  Jackson  has  been  closely  identihed 
with  Westinghouse  School  Service's  program  Adven- 
tures in  Research,  which  he  wrote  and  produced  for  five 
vears     The  program  has  won  various  awards  for  merit. 

In  addition  to  his  duties  at  KDKA  he  has  also  been 
pressed  into  service  as  a  speaker,  not  only  at  KDKA  s 
Radio  Workshop,  but  at  the  workshops  of  its  sister 
stations,  KYW  in  Philadelphia,  and  WOWO  m  Fort 
Wayne,  Indiana.  He  is  also  one  of  the  advisers  of  the 
Junior  Achievement  group,  Radio  Youth,  which  is 
sponsored  by  KDKA.  .  ■4.-    ^     <.  t-. 

Mr  Jackson  is  also  instructor  m  radio  writing  at  Du- 
quesne University,  and  he  is  writing  the  scripts  for  the 
series  of  industrial  motion  pictures.  _      ^,      .. 

He  has  been  greatly  interested  in  Television  and  is 
devoting  his  spare  time  to  the  study  of  television  scripts 
and  techniques  so  that  he  will  be  well-equipped  for 
whatever  the  future  may  have  in  store  for  him,  and  his 
family— wife  Mary  Louise,  son  Thomas  Neill,  4,  and  dog 
Taffy is  sure  it  will  find  him  well  prepared. 


Coast  to  Coast 

(Continued  from  page  7) 

of  the  intake  last  year,  in  spite  of  the 
seasonal  loss  in  the  summer  months. 

*  *         * 

By  the  time  you  read  this,  a  new  show 
may  have  hit  the  air  lanes,  this  time 
glorifying  the  mailman.  With  the  ap- 
proval of  the  National  Association  of 
Letter  Carriers,  the  series  will  be  dra- 
matizations of  real  incidents  in  the  lives 
of  mail  carriers. 

*  *         * 

Olan  Soule  is  no  man  to  put  all  his 
eggs  in  one  basket.  Since  making  the 
move  from  Chicago  to  Los  Angeles, 
when  the  origin  point  of  the  First 
Nighter  show  was  shifted,  Soule  has 
opened  a  malt  shop  in  the  cinema  city. 
Soule  continues  with  his  radio  jobs, 
but  between  times  he  manages  his  shop 
and  even  acts  as  a  soda  jerk  when  the 

place  gets  busy. 

*  *         * 

Signs  of  the  times — Hooper  rating 
telephone  interviewers  are  now  obliged 
•  to  preface  their  questions  with  "This  is 
not  a  radio  quiz  contest,"  to  soothe  an- 
noyed listeners  when  they  happen  to 
phone  while  some  giveaway  show  is  on 

the  air. 

*  *         * 

The  Department  of  Education  at  Yale 
University  has  been  using  recordings 
of  Child's  World  in  a  seminar  of  grad- 
uate students.  The  program  is  getting 
more  and  more  attention  from  edu- 
cators and  psychologists  who  work  with 
children  and  their  problems.  Many 
schools  and  universities,  including  New 
York  University,  Columbia,  the  Uni- 
versity of  Southern  California  and  sev- 
eral teacher's  colleges  throughout  the 
country  have  been  making  the  program 
required  listening  for  students  in  edu- 
cation and  philosophy  courses.  There 
should  be  some  way  to  make  it  re- 
quired listening  for  all  parents  who  are 
interested  in  finding  out  what  goes  on 
in  the  minds  of  their  children  and  what 
is  behind  some  of  their  behavior. 

*  *         * 

Here's  a  strange  combination  for  you 
— Georgie  Price,  the  well  known  Broad- 
way entertainer,  whose  specialty  is 
satirical  songs  and  who  makes  frequent 
appearances  as  a  guest  on  radio  and 
television,  is  also  one  of  Wall  Street's 
leading  stock  brokers. 

4:  *  4t 

Radio  actress  Lurene  Tuttje,  who 
plays  EfiEie  Perrine  on  the  Sam  Spade 
series,  is  branching  out  by  teaching  a 
class  in  acting  at  the  University  of 
Southern  California.  Just  to  keep  in 
good  with  teacher,  Howard  Duff,  her 
radio  "boss,"  sent  her  a  big  red  apple 
for  the  opening  day  of  her  class. 

*  *         * 

We  hear  that  Joe  Franklin,  the  22- 
year-old  collector  of  rare  old  records, 
clears  better  than  $50,000  annually  from 
his  hobby.  He's  not  the  kind  of-  collec- 
tor who  invites  a  few  friends  to  help 
him  gloat  oyer  his  precious  finds.  Joe 
rents  his  records,  gives  lectures  on  the 
subject,  acts  as  adviser  for  films  in 
which  old  recordings  figure  and  cashes 
in  on  any  and  all  deals  connected  with 
his  hobby. 

«         *         * 

If  you've  been  wondering  why 
Georgia  Gibbs  has  been  limiting  her 
radio  appearances  to  guest  spots,  it's 
because  she  has  given  up  her  home  in 
Hollywood  and  is  in  New  York  making 
a  determined  effort  to  establish  herself 
in  the  Broadway  musical  comedy  field. 
Hope  she  makes  it.  Her  nibs  can  still 
give  a  song  just  (Continued  on  page  11) 


Are  you  in  the  know  ? 


Which  gal  would  you  ask  to  complete  a  foursome  ? 

n   A  Suave  Sally      □   A  numb  number       D   A  character  from  fhe  carnival 


Your  steady  freddy  asks  you  to  produce  a 
date  for  his  pal?  Here's  advice!  Choosing  a 
gal  less  winsome  than  you,  can  doom  the 
party.  It  flusters  your  guy;  disappoints  his 
friend.  Best  you  invite  Suave  Sally.  You 
can  stay  confident  —  regardless  of  the  day  of 


the  month  — with  Kotex  to  keep  you  com- 
fortable, to  give  you  softness  that  holds  its 
shape.  No  treachery  with  Kotex!  It's  the 
napkin  made  to  stay  soft  while  you  wear  it. 
And  your  new,  all-elastic,  Kotex  Sanitary 
Belt  is  so  snug-fitting!  Doesn't  bind! 


How  much  should  she  have 
tipped  him? 

D  10% 
D  25% 
n  15  to  20% 

Don't  wait  'til  a  waiter  wears  that  "why 
don't  you  do  right"  look.  Hone  up  on  tip- 
ping! 'Taint  what  it  used  to  be,  so  leave  a 
little  extra  on  that  silver  tray.  A  15  to  20% 
tip  pays  off,  in  good  service.  And  for  certain 
times  there's  a  special  service  Kotex  gives 
.  .  .  your  choice  of  3  absorbencies,  designed 
for  different  girls,  different  days.  It  pays  to 
try  all  3:  Regular,  Junior,  Super  Kotex. 
You'll  find  the  one  absorbency  that  suits 
your  needs  exactly! 


What  clan  does  her  plaid 
represent  ? 

n   Frazer 

□   Macpherson 

D   Black  Watch 

For  the  Highland  touch  in  togs— have  a 
fling  at  "ancient  tartans":  top-rating  plaids 
with  authentic  patterns,  representing  ac- 
tual clans.  A  genuwyne  Macpherson,  for 
instance,  as  shown.  And  when  your  own 
clan  meets,  have  fun  — even  at  calendar 
time.  Why  be  self-conscious,  with  Kotex 
preventing  telltale  outlines  ?  Those  fiat 
pressed  ends  don't  turn  traitor . . .  don^t  show. 
(As  if  you  didn't  know!).  And  that  exclu- 
sive safety  center  provides  extra  protection. 


Alo/'e  ivoMe/?  c/?oose  ^OTEK 
Y/ia^  a//  oY^^e/'  sa/7/Yary  r?a/?^/hs 

a  ABSORBBNCieSt  RB&UtAK..  UU/\f/OK.  SUJ>£lt 


People    like    to    see    as    well    as    hear    Chuck    Thompson     (upper   left).    Witness   this   crowd   gathered   in   front   of 
WIBG's  shop  window  studio  in  downtown  Philadelphia    where   Chuck  broadcasts  his   two   daily   sports   round-ups. 


10 


CHUCK  THOMPSON  has  a  high  neck,  because  C.T.  is  a 
tall  guy.  You'll  see  him  looking  over  a  microphone — 
a  sports  mike  that  is — practically  anytime — and  almost 
anywhere. 

He  does  the  play-by-plays  of  the  Philadelphia  Warriors 
basketball  team,  the  Philadelphia  Rockets  hockey  club,  and 
two  daily  sports  commentaries  for  WIBG. 

That  means  that  he  has  to  prepare  a  quarter  hour  com- 
mentary to  be  aired  at  5:30  P.M.  daily  and  another  ten-min- 
ute stint  to  be  broadcast  at  10:05  P.M.  Mondays  and  Fri- 
days. 

The  basketball  games  which  are  broadcast  from  the  Phil- 
adelphia Arena  every  Tuesday  and  Thursday  night,  and 
the  hockey  tilts  which  he  airs  every  Wednesday  and  Satur- 
day night,  add  to  that  work.  During  the  baseball  season  he 
spends  most  of  his  waking  hours  at  Shibe  Park,  from  which 
point  he  and  Byrum  Saam  air  the  A's  and  Phillies'  home 
games. 

During  the  fall  season,  along  with  football,  he  adds 
basketball  and  hockey  broadcasts. 

One  weekend  last  fall  he  spent  Friday  night  at  Temple 
Stadium  in  Philadelphia,  for  a  play-by-play  of  the  Temple- 
Boston  University  football  game,  after  which  he  left  for 
Baltimore  and  the  Navy-Missouri  game.  That  same  eve- 
ning he  broadcast  from  the  Philadelphia  Arena,  where  the 
Rockets  and  the  Providence  Reds  played  hockey. 

Consider  that  Temple,  Boston  University,  Navy  and 
Missouri  all  play  a  different  brand  of  football;  you  have  to 


know  the  names  and  numbers  of  all  the  players  to  be  able 
to  describe  the  game  properly;  you  have  to  know  your 
football,  and  you  realize  that  Cr.'s  life  is  a  complex  one. 

Hockey  is  about  the  most  difficult  game  to  broadcast. 
First,  the  action  is  exceptionally  fast.  Second,  whole- 
sale substitutions  are  made  frequently  by  both  clubs,  who 
invariably  have  three  interchangeable  teams;  and  last, 
the  sportscaster  gets  no  time  to  catch  his  breath. 

Baseball  is  a  fairly  slow  game  to  air.  There  is  time  be- 
tween innings  for  the  color  man  to  give  commercials  and 
scores  of  other  games;  in  football  and  basketball,  there  are 
time-outs;  but  when  you  hit  hockey,  in  which  the  clock  is 
stopped  frequently,  but  only  for  seconds  at  a  time,  it  often 
happens  that  the  announcer  races  at  top  speed  for  30  to  40 
minutes. 

Due,  perhaps,  to  all  this  vocal  practice,  Thompson  is  in 
great  demand  as  an  after-dinner  speaker,  and  as  a  guest 
speaker  at  boys'  clubs.  This  leaves  him  nowhere  near  the 
amount  of  time  he'd  like  to  spend  with  his  wife  and  two 
daughters.  Luckily  they,  too,  enjoy  sports,  for  even  his 
hobby  (golf)  is  a  sport.  He  works  hard  at  keeping  his 
score  in  the  seventies. 

Up  to  his  neck  in  'em?  Over  his  head  is  more  like  it.  62 
hockey  games,  64  basketball  games,  more  than  150  base- 
ball games,  and  14  visits  to  the  football  broadcasters  booth, 
plus  his  two  daily  sportscasts,  his  golfing  dates — and  oh, 
yes — two  boxing  bouts  from  Camden — make  this  26-ytar- 
old  veteran  of  the  Battle  of  the  Bulge  quite  a  busy  guy. 


Coast  to  Coast 

(Continued  from,  page  9) 

a  bit  more  than  most  other  singers  and 
she's  no  mean  actress. 

*  *         * 

Milton  Berle  appears  to  be  a  come- 
dian who  appreciates  the  value  of  a 
top-flight  sci-ipter.  His  writing  man  is 
Nat  Hiken,  who  used  to  be  chief  of  the 
Fred  Allen  writing  staif,  and,  with 
Berle,  Hiken  doesn't  get  any  salary. 
He  and  Berle  are  partners  in  the  own- 
ership of  the  new  Berle  airer.  Of 
course,  this  is  one  way  to  guarantee 
the  best  from  a  writer  and  it  might  be 
an  idea  for  other  comics  who've  been 
having  "material"  problems. 

Bet  you  didn't  know  that  practically 
the  first  radio  disc  jockey  to  turn  up 
was  Bob  Hawk.  He  had  a  turn  at  that 
about  ten  years  ago,  just  before  he 
started  on  a  "man  on  the  street"  pro- 
gram, which  found  him  popping  ques- 
tions and  making  laughs  early  in  the 
morning  in  Chicago,  interviewing  peo- 
ple on  their  way  to  work. 

*  *         * 

We're  told  that  Professor  Quiz  has 
had  to  change  his  telephone  number 
because  of  the  overwhelming  number 
of  bright  listeners  who  thought  he 
ought  to  be  able  to  give  them  the  an- 
swers to  the  questions  on  other  quiz 
shows.  Most  frequent  callers  were 
those  who  wanted  help  in  identifying 
the  mystery  melody  on  Stop  the  Music. 

*  *         * 

Vaughn  Monroe  and  his  orchestra 
don't  get  to  New  York  for  broadcasts 
very  often — their  road  schedule  is  too 
heavy.  But  when  they  do,  the  rehearsal 
studio  at  the  network's  station  is 
crowded  to  the  beams  by  women  and 
children.  As  a  rule,  visitors  are  barred 
from  most  rehearsals,  but  that  rule  is 
waived  in  this  case,  because  the  visitors 
are  the  wives  and  children  of  the  musi- 
cians in  the  orchestra.  Mos^  of  them 
live  in  New  York  and  these  rehearsals 
give  them  a  few  extra  hours  with  their 
husbands  and  fathers  during  Monroe's 
rare  New  York  sessions. 

*  *         * 

Happen  to  collect  really  odd  facts 
about  people?  Here's  one  that's  odd 
enough — about  Ross  Dowden,  who  sings 
with  the  Old  Hickory  Singers  on  Grand 
Ole  Opry.  He's  a  stewed-tomato  fan, 
some  days  having  them  at  all  three 
meals,  including  breakfast!  ■ 

*  *         * 

In  the  years  since  she  made  her  debut 
as  a  singer,  Kate  Smith  has  recorded 
more  than  2,000  songs.  She  features 
three  or  four  of  her  records  every  day 
on  her  new  program,  and,  at  that  rate, 
Kate  could  stay  on  the  air  five  days 
weekly  without  a  vacation  for  two  solid 
years  without  repeating  a  song.  The 
only  other  singer  who  can  match  that 
tremendous  backlog  of  records  is  Biqg 
Crosby,  no  mean  recorder  over  the 
years  himself. 

^  4:  ^ 

A  deal  is  a  deal — even  if  it  takes  elev- 
en years  to  put  it  into  effect.  Back  in 
1927,  when  Chet  Lauck  and  Norris  Goff 
first  went  to  Hollywood  with  their  Lum 
and  Abner  show,  they  happened  to  hear 
a  radio  adaptation  of  Walt  Disney's 
"Mickey  Mouse."  The  two  comedians 
were  so  pleased  with  the  music  on  the 
show  that  they  sat  right  down  and 
wrote  a  fan  letter  to  Maestro  Felix 
Mills.  The  letter  said  something  like 
this,  "We  liked  your  music  on  the 
'Mickey  Mouse'  show  last  night  very 
much  and  if  we  ever  need  an  orches- 
tra  for    our    (Continued    on   page   77) 


peftre  your  Jaugbter  marries,, 
should  you  tell  her 


BY  ALL  MEANS!  And  here  is  scientific 
up-to-date  information  You  Can  Trust  — 


The  time  to  speak  frankly  to  your 
daughter  is  before  she  marries.  She 
should  be  fully  informed  on  how  im- 
portant vaginal  douching  two  or  three 
times  a  week  often  is  to  feminine  clean- 
liness, her  health,  marriage  happiness, 
to  combat  odor,  and  always  after  men- 
strual periods. 

And  she  should  be  made  to  realize 
that  no  other  type  liquid  antiseptic- 
germicide  tested  for  the  douche  is  so 
POWERFUL  yet  so  SAFE  to  tissues  as 
modern  zonite! 

Warns  Girls  Against  Weak 
or  Dangerous  Products 

How  unfortunate  is  the  young  woman 
who,  through  ignorant  advice  of  friends, 
uses  such  'kitchen  makeshifts'  as  vine- 
gar, salt  or  soda.  These  are  not  germi- 
cides in  the  douche!  They  never  can 
give  the  great  germicidal  and  deodoriz- 
ing action  of  zonite. 

Won't  you  please  realize  how  very 
important  it  is  to  use  a  germicide  defi- 


Zonite 

FOR   NEWER 

Teminine  nuaiene 


nitely  intended  for  vaginal  douching — 
one  powerfully  germicidal  yet  one  safe 
to  tissues  as  zonite  has  proved  to  be 
for  years. 

ZONITE  positively  contains  no  phenol, 
no  bichloride  of  mercury,  no  harsh 
acids — overstrong  solutions  of  which 
may  damage  tissues  and  in  time  even 
hinder  functional  activity  of  the  mu- 
cous glands.  You  can  use  zonite  as 
directed  as  often  as  needed  without  the 
slightest  risk  of  injury.  It's  positively 
non-poisonous,  non-irritating. 

Truly  A  Modern  Miracle! 

zonite  destroys  and  removes  odor- 
causing  waste  substances.  Leaves  you 
feeling  so  sweet  and  clean.  Helps  guard 
against  infection,  zonite  kills  every 
germ  it  touches.  You  know  it's  not 
always  possible  to  contact  all  the  germs 
in  the  tract.  But  you  can  he  sure  amaz- 
ing ZONITE  DOES  KILL  every  reachable 
germ  and  keeps  them  from  multiplying. 
Buy  ZONITE  at  any  drugstore! 

FREE!    HW^\ 

For  amazing  enlightening  new 

Booklet  containing  frank  discussion 

of  intimate  physical  facts,  recently 

published — mail   this  coupon   to 

Zonite   Products,    Dept.    RM-I9,    370 

Lexington  Ave.,  New  York  17,  N.  Y. 


R 

Af1drf?s'? 

M 

ity                                            ^tn**» 

11 

Dean  Martin,  left,  and  Jerry  Lewis — 
making    their    first    Capitol    record. 


||NE  platter  that  should  make  a  pile  of  money  is  Capitol's 
waxing  of  "The  Money  Song" — first  recording  by  that 
wonderful  team  of  madcaps,  Dean  Martin  and  Jerry 
Lewis.  It's  hard  to  find  any  funnier  pair  in  show  business 
today,  and  this  disc  really  captures  the  spirit  of  their 
work.    We're   anxiously   awaiting   their   motion   picture 

debut. 

*  *         * 

Youthful  Elliot  Lawrence  gets  a  big  hand  from  audi- 
ences everywhere  these  days  with  his  baton  twirling, 
a  stunt  he  picked  up  when  leader  of  the  famed  University 
of  Pennsylvania  military  band.  It  seems  to  prove  that  a 
higher  education  really  pays! 

*  *         * 

It  -  could  -  only  -  happen  -in-  show  -  business  department: 
Recuperating  in  the  hospital  after  having  an  emergency 
appendectomy,  Tex  Beneke  was  handed  a  wire  from  his 
New  York  press  agent  informing  him:  "Your  operation 
big  success.  We  made  eight  major  newspapers!" 

*  *         * 

Without  a  doubt,  the  fellow  most  completely  surprised 
by  the  success  of  Tommy  Dorsey's  hit  platter,  "Until,"  is 
Bob  Crosby.  Bob  penned  that  tune  himself,  more  than 
six  years  ago,  and  then  did  little  more  with  it  than  hum 
it  to  himself  occasionally.  Somehow,  Dorsey  heard  it,  and 
now  Bob  is  a  bona  fide  songwriter. 

*  *         * 

We've  recently  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  a  musician 
for  whom  we've  had  a  great  admiration  over  the  years — 
Harry  Roy,  one  of  the  biggest  name  band  leaders  in 
England  for  oh,  so  many  years.  We  can  remember  way 
back  before  the  war  when  Roy  discs  in  the  United  States 
were  going  at  a  premium.  Always  a  fine  showman  as  well 
as  a  musician,  Harry  recently  brought  his  bride  to  these 
shores  for  a  vacation  and  look-see. 

*  *         * 

Biggest  laugh  in  musical  circles  these  days  is  the  little 
bit  that  took  place  on  the  first  Fred  Allen  program  of  the 
Fall  season,  when  Fred  told  about  the  be-bop  tambourine 
player  he  had  discovered!  The  boys  are  now  talking 
about  teaming  that  individual  with  a  be-bop  rhythm 
section  consisting  of  triangle,  maracas  and  zither! 

*  *         * 

Speaking  of  be-bop — as  who  isn't — reminds  me  of  the 
trouble  most  people  have  in  speaking  of  it:  the  vocabu- 
lary. I  got  my  good  friend  Lionel  Hampton  to  make  a 
few  statements  on  that  peculiar  subject,  and,  in  fact,  to 
list  a  lot  of  the  terms  you  have  to  know  to  talk  be-bop 
at  all.    See  right  for  the  Hamp's  helpful  hints. 


■til  gi^f-^ 


By 
PUKE 

lUINGTON 


'"         whose  disc  ihow  is  heard:  WLOW,  iVortolk,  Va.,  WFIL, 
FhiLa.lelphia,    P.i.    and    KALL.    «Lih    Lake    City,    Utah. 
12 


*'REAL  CRAZY" 

A  Be-Bop  Glossary  By  Lionel  Hampton 

It's  common  knowledge  that  music,  like  most  other 
things  in  life,  goes  through  periodic  changes.  No  one 
fad  ever  dies  out  completely.  In  the  field  of  hot  music 
alone,  my  generation  has  heard  Dixieland  give  way  to 
Swing,  which,  in  turn  is  now  menaced  by  Be-Bop.  And 
the  latter  may  soon  surrender  to  something  being  called 
the  New  Movement. 

These  changes  in  musical  taste  generally  bring  with 
them  new  words  and  expressions  which  are  often  more 
difficult  to  understand  than  the  music  itself. 

You're  a  real  "square"  (translation:  a  person  un- 
knowing or  uninformed)  to  millions  of  present-day 
youngsters  if  you  are  not  "hep"  (wise)  to  "jive  talk." 

But  if  you  think  that  such  talk  is  out  of  this  world,  just 
latch  on  to  some  of  the  following  conversation  which  came 
hand  in  hand  with  Be-Bop,  or  Re-Bop,  as  it's  known 
to  some   sticklers. 

You  don't  say  hello;  that  is  expressed  by  "Ooh  La 
Pa  Da  Pa."    So  long,  or  be  seeing  you  comes  out  "Blee 


In  the  film  "A  Song  Is  Born"  Danny  Kaye  succumbs  to  Lionel  Hampton's   (right)    contagious  abandon  and  joins  him  in 
a  kettle-pounding  session."  Background  (I  to  r),  are  Benny  Goodman,  Tommy  Dorsey,  Charlie  Barnet,  Louis  Armstrong. 


•v. 


me. 


I 


Blee  Lu  Lu."  When  you  like  something,  it's  "real  crazy." 
A  warning  not  to  be  a  phony,  or  cheap  comes  out  as 
"Don't  be  no  zircon."  "Her  future"  means  legs,  and  "the 
track"  is  Harlem's  famed  Savoy  Ballroom.  "Tom  O  Reni" 
is  one  who  feels  inferior,  and  "cool  breeze  in  the  knees" 
says  the  same  as  act  sharp,  he  sharp,  or  look  sharp.  A 
pretty  girl  is  known  as  "Hollywood  eyes,"  her  lips  as 
"chops." 

If  you  are  a  musician,  you  might  make  that  money  by 
doing  a  "gig"  (a  job  for  one  night),  "a  session  in  the 
sweat  shop"  (a  week  at  the  Apollo  Theater,  home  of 
Negro  headliners)  or  "torture  eyes"  (a  Southern  tour). 
While  on  the  latter,  you'd  be  sure  to  run  into  "the 
gestapo,"  or  out-of-town  union  delegates.  "That  couldn't 
possibly  happen  if  you  were  "cooling,"  or  unemployed. 

If  you  get  into  trouble  with  the  law,  the  officer  who 
makes  the  arrest  is  "the  nab,"  a  "sad  eyes"  (person  dis- 
liked) or  "bug"  (annoying  person).  When  things  get 
straightened  out  and  all  is  O.K.  you  breathe  "Ah  Lop 
Pow."  And  when  your  friends  want  to  hear  your  story, 
they  are  likely  to  ask  "Lu  E  Pa." 

Do  you  suppose  the  Secret  Service  is  overlooking  a 
good  bet  in  not  teaching  its  operatives  Be-Bop? 


Recent  Urban  League 
show  of  "Paintings  by 
Famous  Amateurs"  had 
Sinatra's  "Scrubby,  A 
Sad  Faced  Clown"  and 
Lena  Home's  oil  por- 
trait   of    her    secretary. 


ii 


JUST  BE 


99 


ED  DINSMORE  is  a  splendid  example  of  the  potential 
influence  of  a  disc  jockey  on  a  nation's  music — only 
in  the  WBEN  disc  jockey's  case,  the  influence  is  more 
than  potential. 

The  rotund  Ed  is  now  M.C.  of  WBEN's  hour-long 
Luncheon  Club  broadcast  Monday  through  Friday  after- 
noon at  12:30.  Ed  piloted  a  similar  music  show  in  Boston 
a  few  years  ago  when  Vaughn  Monroe  was  available  at 
a  bandbooking  office  as  a  trumpeter. 

It  seems  that  the  bookers  had  a  band  date,  but  no 
leader,  and  they  persuaded  Vaughn  to  front  an  orchestra. 
Ed  saw  him,  learned  that  he  had  made  a  record,  and 
interviewed  Monroe  on  his  show  after  playing  the  disc. 

"Vaughn  wasn't  anxious  to  lead  a  band — he  was 
content  as  a  singer  and  trumpeter,"  Ed  recalls.  Shortly 
after  that,  the  920  Club,  a  radio-fan  organization  con- 
nected with  the  Dinsmore  program,  sponsored  a  dance. 
The  well-known  Gene  Krupa  and  the  obscure  Monroe 
were  hired  for  a  band  battle. 

At  the  dance,  Krupa  told  Ed  that  Monroe  would  go 
far  with  voice,  appearance  and  ability  to  play,  instead 
of  merely  batoning.    Vaughn  zoomed  to  the  top. 

The  affable  Mr.  Dinsmore  was  born  in  Brookline,  New 
Hampshire,  and  attended  high  school  in  Maiden,  Mass. 
After  many  successes  in  high  school  dramatics,  he 
decided  on  the  stage  as  a  career  and  attended  the 
Bishop-Lee  Dramatic  School  in  Boston.  After  that  he 
toured  with  summer  stock  in  New  England,  Virginia, 
Ohio  and  other  states  and  settled  down  in  New  York 
in  1936.  There,  because  of  his  New  England  accent,  he 
received  many  character  assignments  on  many  NBC 
daytime  serials.  But  New  England  was  in  his  blood,  so 
he  returned  to  Boston  in  1938,  joining  WORL  there  as 
an  M.C.  and  disc  jockey.  He  had  five  top  years  there 
and  his  success  with  the  920  Club  was  outstanding. 

In  1943  Uncle  Sam  called  him  and  he  put  his  radio 
experience  to  good  use  in  the  Signal  Corps.  He  was 
connected  with  the  Armed  Forces  Radio  Service  in 
Hollywood  for  awhile  before  being  shipped  to  the  Pacific 
as  manager  of  a  1000-watt  Army  station  at  Espiritu 
Santo  in  the  New  Hebrides.  The  Army  Expeditionary 
station  had  the  call  letters  WVUR  and  Ed's  pleasant 
voice  and  know-how  as  to  soldiers'  wants  combined  to 
make  many  popular  programs  for  the  music  hungry  boys 
away  from  home. 

Ed  left  the  service  in  1946  as  a  technical  sergeant  and 
returned  to  WORL  for  nine  months.  In  February  1947, 
WCOP,  Boston,  made  him  an  attractive  offer  and  he 
joined  that  station  to  head  a  three-hour  morning  variety 
show  from  6  to  9  A.M. 

While  in  the  service  he  married  the  former  Bettina 
Roper  of  Gloucester,  Mass.,  in  1944. 

The  intimate  Dinsmore  style  was  immediately  recog- 
nized at  WBEN  and  he  was  chosen  as  television  host  for 
the  plays  telecast  from  the  Erlanger  Theater  over 
WBEN-TV.  Ed  also  is  announcing  other  studio  shows 
over  the  Buffalo  television  station,  in  addition  to  the 
handling  of  his  daily  Luncheon  Club  assignment  on 
WBEN. 

Ed  has  only  one  formula  for  radio  success — "just  be 
natural." 


Rotund  Ed  Dinsmore  acts  just  as  cheerful  as  he 
looks    when    he    pilots    WBEN's    Luncheon    Club. 


Ed    is    the    sergeant    at    the    right    with    the    three    stripes    and 
T.    This   picture   was   taken    on    Espiritu    Santo    during    the   war. 


Aohn   \-jlo 


ion 


On    CBS'   Crime  Photogra- 
pher,    Thurs.,     9:30     P.M. 


IiF  YOU'RE  a  fan  of  Ethelbert's— he's 
the  slow-tongued,  naively  humorous 
bartender  on  the  Crime  Photogra- 
pher show,  (CBS,  Thursdays  at  9:30 
PM,  EST)  you'll  be  glad  to  meet 
actor  John  Gibson,  who  plays  the  man 
behind  the  bar  on  the  weekly  episodes. 
John  has  been  interested  in  the  theater 
and  movies  ever  since  he  was  fifteen, 
but  what  intrigued  him  most  was  the 
technical  side. 

One  summer  Gibson  worked  with  a 
stock  company.  The  following  summer, 
he  worked  in  some  silent  pictures — 
".  .  .  none  of  them  very  good."  It  was 
then  that  the  technical  end  of  picture 
making  began  to  fascinate  him,  but, 
hang  around  the  directors  and  camera- 
men as  much  as  he  could,  he  was  still 
always  called  in  for  acting  jobs. 

"What  he  remembers  about  that  time 
is  that  then  he  played  straight  leads 
and  he  had  a  tough  job  overcoming  the 
stilted  speech  that  resulted  from  some 
elocution  lessons  that  had  been  forced 
upon  him  by  a  kindly  friend.  "I  had  to 
imdo  all  she'd  taught  me  and  learn  how 
to  talk  like  a  human  being,"  he  says. 
"She  was  very  upset  and  hurt,  when 
she  came  to  see  me  act." 

Gibson  also  worked  in  a  number  of 
silent  pictures  in  that  period.  Around 
1929,  Jimmy  Gleason  asked  Gibson  to 
make  a  series  of  recordings  for  radio 
with  him.  The  writer  of  the  Gleason 
series  remembered  him  when  he  began 
a  new  radio  show  and  Gibson  was 
started  on  his  successful  career. 

Once  started,  John  Gibson  kept  pretty 
busy.  "You  know,"  he  said,  explaining 
why  he's  never  gone  out  for  big  pub- 
licity splurges,  "in  those  days,  it  was 
better  not  to  be  too  well  known.  Actors 
became  so  easy  to  identify  that  listen- 
ers would  complain  because  the  same 
man  was  playing  too  many  of  their 
favorite  characters.  I  guess  they  like 
to  hang  on  to  the  illusion  that  the  char- 
acters are  real  peoole." 

From  the  looks  of  it,  it's  not  necessary 
to  be  well  known  by  listeners  in  order 
to  work.  In  his  16  years  in  radio,  Gib- 
son has  averaged  more  than  one  broad- 
cast or  recording  for  every  single  day. 

John  Gibson  is  a  free  lance  actor, 
appearing  regularly  in  True  Story  and 
Right  to  Happiness.  Besides  these  and 
other  stints,  he's  "Mr.  Coffee  Nerves" 
on  the  Portia  Faces  Life  show. 

In  spite  of  this  heavy  acting  routine, 
Gibson  has  had  a  chance,  at  last,  to 
satisfy  his  first  interest,  the  technical 
side  of  show  business.  He's  built  a 
model  theater  in  his  home  for  his  family 
— his  wife,  whom  he  met  in  Italy  when 
he  took  his  one  vacation  from  radio 
in   1938,    and   his   seven   year   old   son. 


Phoiu  by 

Underuiood  &  Underwood 


from  friendly  shelves  and  pages 

One  of  the  many  things  that  makes  home  the  best  place  in 
the  world  is  the  array  of  old  and  trusted  friends,  always  there 
to  greet  you  ...  in  the  kitchen  cabinet,  the  medicine  chest  and 
on  all  the  shelves  of  the  household. 

Every  family  has  its  coterie  of  favorite  brands,  familiar 
packages  and  products  that  have  made  life  comfortable  and 
enjoyable  for  many  years.  No  two  family  assortments  exactly 
match— and  that  is  as  it  should  be,  since  tastes  differ.  Your 
brand  friends  mirror  your  tastes  and  unique  requirements. 

The  circle  is  by  no  means  so  exclusive  that  new  brands  are 
not  always  welcome.  Every  so  often  another  name  joins  the 
trusted  group.  You  greet  new  candidates  for  your  loyalty  with 
open  minds  and  a  ready  welcome  if  they  "make  good." 

This  magazine,  too,  is  brighter  for  the  messages  of  many  of 
your  old  brand  friends  and  quite  a  number  of  new  ones  asking 
for  your  friendship. 


I V  lacPadden  f  ubllcation5,  Jj^ncorporated 

205  East  42nd  Street.  New  York  1 7,  N.  Y. 


15 


Your  loveliness 
is  Doubly  Safe 


Veto  gives  you 

Double 

Protection! 

C^C^  ^(^Ctu^  .  .  .  Veto  guards  your 
loveliness  night  and  day — safely  protects 
your  clothes  and  you.  For  Veto  not  only 
neutralizes  perspiration  odor,  it  checks  per- 
spiration, too !  Yes,  Veto  gives  you  Double 
Protection !  And  Veto  disappears  instantly  to 
protect  you  from  the  moment  you  apply  it! 


0(yaed^ 


R 
HI 

16 


)(y^r(A-a:y  .  .  .  Always  creamy  and 
smooth,  Veto  is  lovely  to  use  and  keeps  you 
lovely.  And  Veto  is  gentle,  safe  for  normal 
skin,  safe  for  clothes.  Doubly  Safe!  Veto 
alone  contains  Duratex,  Colgate's  exclusive 
ingredient  to  make  Veto  safer.  Let  Veto 
give   your  loveliness   double   protection! 


Veto 
leasts  and, 

leasts 

From  Bath 

to  Bath 


"^ 


By  Joe  Martin 


DANCING  OR  LISTENING 


FRANK  SINATRA  (Columbia)— A  beautiful  ballad  is  sung  beautifully  by  Frank  to  the 
accompaniment  of  Axel  Stordahl's  music.  It's  "Autumn  In  New  York"  that ,  gets  the 
superlatives  this  month.  "A  Moonlight  Night"  suffers  a  bit  by  comparison,  tfaongh  it's 
a  fine  song 

PRIMO  SCALA  AND  KEYNOTES  (London)— It's  not  very  often  that  a  recording  artist 
can  repeat  hit  after  hit,  but  this  imported  version  of  "Jingle  Bells"  and  "Th6  Mistletoe 
Kiss"  speaks  well  for  Primo  Scala.  Both  are  done  in  refined  string-band  versions,  a  la 
"Underneath  The  Arches." 

KING  COLE  TRIO  (Capitol)— "Kee-Mo  Ky-Mo"  comes  from  the  album  set  "King  Cole 
For  Kids,"  while  "Rex  Rhumba"  is  an  original  instrumental  written  and  played  by  Nat 
Cole's  group.  The  first-named  side  could  easily  become  a  national  hit,  but  then,  no  one 
would  sound  half  as  good  as  Nat  Cole.   You'll  like  both  sides. 

RAYMOND  SCOTT  (MGM)— Mark  Warnow's  kid  brother  presents  a  pairing  that  is 
mighty  easy  on  the  ears.  Dorothy  Collins  sings  "You'd  Be  Surprised"  in  a  blues  tempo. 
The  Scott  orchestra  plays  brightly  on  "Rub-Dub." 

JEAN  SABLON  (RCA  Victor) — You  will  probably  recognize  the  melody  as  Jean  sings 
"Tell  Me,  Marianne."  It's  the  famous  tango  with  new  lyrics.  The  French  crooner  uses 
his  appealing  accent  to  advantage  on  "Lillette"  a  tune  that  is  bidding  for  the  Hit  Parade. 
Toots  Camarata's  string-full  backgrounds  are  excellent. 

RED  NORVO'S  NINE  (Capitol) — Featuring  such  top  musicians  as  Dodo  Marmaroso, 
Ray  Linn,  Dexter  Gordon,  Red  Callender  and  Barney  Kessel;  Red  Norvo  leads  the  group 
with  his  vibes  in  the  very  modern  "Bop!"  and  a  fine  treatment  of  the  oldie  "Pll  Follow 
You." 

JOSEPH  FUCHS  (MGM)— Debussy's  "Clair  De  Lune"  and  Kreisler's  "La  Gitana"  are 
played  by  concert  artist  Joseph  Fuchs.  Macklin  Marrow  and  the  MGM  String  Orchestra 
supply  the  backgrounds  for  Mr.  Fuch's  exquisite  violin  technique. 

DESI  ARNAZ  (RCA  Victor) — Desi  sings  while  his  orchestra  plays  a  novelty  and  a 
romantic  Cuban-styled  ditty.  He  sounds  particularly  romantic  while  singing  "Perhaps, 
Perhaps,  Perhaps"  and  infectiously  gay  while  singing  "The  Matador." 


ALBUM  ARTISTRY 

I  CAN  HEAR  IT  NOW  (Columbia) — Here  is  a  very  unusual  album  that. belongs  in 
every  home.  This  Columbia  set  of  ten  sides  tells  the  story  of  the  years  from  1933  to  1945 
using  the  actual  voices  of  the  important  people  during  that  important  period  of  our  lives. 
Side  one  starts  with  Will  Rogers  talking  about  America  and  the  depression  in  1932  and 
includes  Franklin  D.  Roosevelt's  March  4th,  1933  speech,  "Nothing  To  Fear  But  Fear," 
and  the  Duke  of  Windsor's  abdication  for  "the  woman  I  love."  The  album  contains  such 
selections  of  documentary  history  as  speeches  by  LaGuardia,  Landon,  Roosevelt,  John  L. 
Lewis,  Chamberlain,  Hitler,  Mussolini,  Churchill,  Willkie,  Eisenhower,  Stalin,  Dewey, 
Truman,  Stettinius  and  MacArthur.  It  also  includes  such  on-the-spot  broadcasts  as  the 
Hindenburg  Disaster,  Louis-Schmeling  fight,  Nazi  Blitzkrieg,  French  Surrender,  Pearl 
Harbor  Announcement,  D-Day  and  Japanese  Surrender.  Edward  R.  Mnrrow  supplies  the 
narration.   It  is  truly  a  wonderful  set. 

CHRISTMAS  FANTASY  (RCA  Victor)— Al  Goodman  and  his  orchestra  supply  a  collec- 
tion of  the  most-loved  Yuletide  Songs.  Richly  orchestrated  selections  include  "Hark  The 
Herald  Angels  Sing,"  "First  Noel,"  "O  Come  All  Ye  Faithful,"  "Joy  To  The  World," 
"Silent  Night"  and  others. 

GENE  KELLY  (MGM) — Gene  interprets  the  most  famous  song  and  dance  men  of  all 
time,  by  singing  their  songs  and  dancing  their  dances.  Youll  love  Gene's  impressions 
of  George  M.  Cohan,  Fred  Astaire,  Bill  Robinson,  Pat  Rooney,  George  Primrose  and 
Eddie  Leonard.   It's  a  wonderful  album. 


i^oltecfor  6  L^ 


oriier 


By  Conrad  Thibault 


(This  month's  guest  collector  gave 
up  his  professional  musical  career 
at  the  outbreak  of  war  to  spend  his 
time  and  efforts  in  entertaining 
troops  all  over  the  world.  Once 
more,  now,  Conrad  Thibault  is  back 
in  radio  and  records  to  continue  his 
outstanding  vocal  work.  Best  re- 
membered, perhaps,  for  his  role  on 
the  famous  "Showboat"  program 
with  Charles  Winninger,  Mr.  Thi- 
bault had  the  distinction  of  making 
the  first  recording  of  the  meaningful 
"The  House  I  Live  In",  as  well  as 
such  Decca  discs  as  "I  Love  You 
Trulv".  "The  Lord's  Prayer"  and 
"Coin'  Home".) 

WHILE  it  was  a  bit  difficult  for  me  to 
sit  down  and  select  my  favorite 
type  of  music,  it  was  quite  easy  for 
me  to  choose  my  ten  favorite  operatic 
recoi'ds.  I've  always  been  torn  between 
two  loves — opera  and  simple  folk  music. 
I've  always  liked  the  kind  of  music  we 
call  "music  of  the  people."  That  per- 
haps, is  why  I  chose  as  my  first  Decca 
album  "Roustabout  Songs"  of  the  Ohio 
River  Valley;  and  "Bayou  Ballads," 
Creole  songs  of  Louisiana.  As  for  the 
latter,  I  am  told  that  the  Thibaults 
came  from  France  to  New  Orleans — so 
it  was  my  great  pleasure  to  discover, 
these  gems  of  folklore.  But  flipping  a 
coin  gave  me  the  opportunity  to  list  my 
favorite  operatic  selections.  My  list, 
mind  you,  is  not  in  order  of  preference. 
I  do  believe,  though,  that  the  following 
ten  records  will  make  for  the  basis  of  a 
fine  collection  of  recorded  music  from 
the  opera.  Some  of  the  ten  may  be  a 
little  difficult  to  find  these  days,  but 
they  will  be  well  worth  the  effort. 

1.  "Vesti  la  Giubba"  by  Enrico  Caru- 
so from  "Pagliacci." 

2.  "O  Paradiso"  by  Beniamino  Gigli 
from  "L'Africana." 

3.  "Credo"  by  Tito  Ruffo  from  "Otel- 
lo." 

4.  "Pace,  Pace  Mio  Dio"  by  Claudio 
Muzio  from  "La  Forza  del  Destino." 

5.  "II  mio   Tesoro"   by  John  McCor- 
mack  from  "Don  Giovanni." 

6.  "The  Bell  Song"  by  Lily  Pons  from 
"Lakme." 

7.  "Eri    Tu"     by    Lawrence    Tibbett 
from  "The  Masked  Ball." 

8.  "Evening  Star"  by  Lawrence  Tib- 
bett from  "Tannhauser." 

9.  "Habanera"  by  Gladys  Swarthout 
from  "Carmen." 

10.  "Elsa's  Dream"  by  Helen  Traubel 
from  "Lohengrin." 


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Your  dream  house  will  be  an  Industry-Engineered  home  provided 
by  the  National  Retail  Lumber  Dealers  Ass'n,  complete  with  modern 
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Corp.,  Clopay  Corp.,  Dan  River  Mills,  Dundee  Mills,  L  B.  Kleinert 
Rubber  Co.,  United  Wallpaper,  Apex  Electrical  Mfg.  Co.,  Certified 
Lamp  Makers,  NuTone  Door  Chimes,  Ozite  under-rug  cushions,  Bis- 
sell  Carpel  Sweeper  Co.,  Dirilyte  Flatware,  Ruzak  Co.,  Royledge  Co., 
Donnelly-Kelley  Glass  Co.,  Proctor  Electric  Co.,  Pro-Phy-Lac-Tic  Brush 
Co.,  Anchor  Hocking  Glass  Co. 

Today — get    your   January    issue    of   PHOTOPLAY   for   full    information    and 

contest   entry   blank 


PHOTOPLAY 


Step  up  and  ask  your  questions — ^we'U  try  to  find  the  answers 


FOR  YOUR  INFORMATION— If  there's  something  you  want  to  know  about 
radio,  write  to  Information  Booth,  Radio  Mirror,  205  E.  42nd  St.,  N.  Y. 
We'll  answer  if  we  can  either  in  Information  Booth  or  by  mail — but  be 
sure  to  sign  full  name  and  address,   and  attach  this  box  to  your  letter. 


Joe  E.  Brown 


Rita  Ascot 


A  HIT  IN 
"HARVEY" 

Dear  Editor: 

Will  you  please 
tell  me  whether  or 
not  Joe  E.  Brown 
will  have  a  program 
on  the  air  this 
winter? 

Mrs.  T.  B. 
Turnersville,  Texas 

This  seems  highly  unlikely  as  Joe  is  now 
very  busy  playing  the  title  role  in  the  long- 
run  stage  production,."Harvey."  And  from 
the  raves  he's  received  from  the  critics,  it 
looks  as  though  Joe  will  remain  in  this 
show  for  quite  a  while. 

PETITE  RITA 

Dear  Editor: 

Will  you  please 
tell  us  who  plays 
the  delightful  little 
Faye  on  Ma  Per- 
kins? She  has  the 
sweetest  voice  on 
the  air. 

Miss  J.  B. 
Ogden,  Utah 

The  little  lady  is  Rita  Ascot — and  little 
is  right — she's  only  4'  9"  tall. 

FROM  DERRY 
CITY 

Dear  Editor: 

Several  Sundays 
ago,  I  heard  a  pro- 
pram  of  Irish  mu- 
sic starring  Michael 
O'Duffy.  I  believe  it 
came  over  Mutual. 
Since  then  I  haven't 
been  able  to  get  it. 
Is    he    still    on    the 

air?  I  especially  liked  this  program  as  I 
am  fond  of  Irish  music.  Which  part  of 
Ireland  did  he  come  from? 

Miss  R.  J.  G. 
Clinton,  Iowa 

Michael  O'Duffy  is  still  on  the  air — tune 
in  Sunday  at  3:00  P.M.  EST  over  your 
Mutual  station.  This  Irish  tenor  comes 
from  Derry  City,  Eire,  where  he  was  born 
twenty-nine  years  ago.  Incidentally,  accord- 
ing to  a  recent  poll  conducted  by  Radio 
Review,  an  Irish  fan  magazine,  O'Duffy  was 
voted  "second  only  to  Beniamino  Gigli  as 
the  top-drawing  singer  in   Great  Britain." 

CAMERA-SHY 

Dear  Editor: 

I  would  like  to  know  a  few  facts  about 
Galen  Drake,  such  as  birthplace  and  date. 
Isn't  he  married  to  a  sister  of  Jo  Stafford? 


Michael  O'Duffy 


And  I  don't  recall  ever  seeing  a  pictuie  of 
him.    Could  you  print  one? 

Mrs.  J.  C. 
Hasbrouck  Heights,  N.  J. 

Galen  Drake  was  born  in  Kokomo.  In- 
diana. And,  yes,  he  is  married  to  a  sister 
of  Jo  Stafford — Pauline.  Sorry,  no  picture 
— Galen  Drake  is  camera-shy. 

IN   ONE   MAN'S 
FAMILY 

Dear  Editor: 

I  would  like  to  ask 
Radio  Mirror's  In- 
formation Booth  for 
some  information 
pertaining  to  radio 
actor  Barton  Yar- 
borough.  He  has 
long  been  a  favorite 
of  mine,  ever  since  I  Love  A  Mystery  was 
on  the  air  back  in  1945.  I  don't  hear  him 
anymore — could    you    tell    me    what    he's 


Barton  Yarborongh 


loing  now 


..? 


Miss  R.  H. 


Jinx  Falkenburg 


Charlotte,  N.  C. 

Last  summer.  Barton  Yarborough  was  in 
ABC's  I  Love  Adventure  in  which  he  por- 
trayed Doc  Long  to  Michael  Raffetto's  Jack 
Packard.  Both  Yarborough  and  Raffetto 
are  members  of  long  standing  of  the  cast 
of  One  Mans  Family — Yarborough  plays 
Cliff,  and  Raffetto  plays  Paul. 

THE  MYSTERY 
IS  SOLVED 

Dear  Editor: 

I  have  heard  that 
Tex  and  Jinx  are 
back  on  the  air,  but 
it's  certainly  a  mys- 
tery to  me  —  can't 
find  them. 

Mr.  M.  M. 
Bronx,  N.  Y. 

A  mystery  no  longer  —  Tex  and  Jinx 
broadcast  their  show  every  Sunday  at  Noon, 
EST,  over  your  NBC  station. 

STELLA  DALLAS 

Dear  Editor: 

I  have  been  tak- 
ing Radio  Mirror 
for  two  years  but 
so  far  I  haven't 
been  able  to  see  a 
picture  of  the  ac- 
tress who  plays  the 
title  role  in  Stella 
Dallas. 

Mrs.  C.  P. 
Farmington,  Ky. 

We've  printed  pictures  of  Anne  Elstner 
(Stella  Dallas)  several  times  in  past  issues 
of  Radio  Mirror,  but  fust  in  case  you 
missed  them,  here's  another  one. 


Anne  Elstner 


'^if^ 


TO  COMBAT  BAD  BREATH,  I  RECOMMEND 

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By 

FULTON 


Robert  Merrill:  no  extra 
mjkeap,    chipped    polish. 


Kenneth  Banghart:  wants 
a  well-groomed  career  girl. 


Fujibett  Q.Lewi^:  no  show- 
ii'_    .11', 1-.   i  I'Doked   seams. 


Jimmy  Blaine:  now 
he's  found  PhyJ  he's 
sorry  for  bachelors. 
She  has  that  well 
scrubbed,  much  ad- 
mired look  that  is  so 
typically     American. 


R 

M 

20 


F  1948  didn't  give  you  a  husband,  perhaps  1949  will. 

If  he's  still  too  elusive,  perhaps  you'd  like  to  know 

what  several  very  eligible  bachelors  in  radio  have  to 
say  about  why  they're  not  benedicts.  In  listing  the 
things  they  object  to  in  a  woman's  appearance  and  ac- 
tions, they  want  to  go  on  record  as  admitting  that  there 
are  many  things  that  they  do  like.  They  want  to  point 
out,  too,  that  they're  quite  willing  to  have  their  re- 
sistance broken  down. 

Robert  Q.  Lewis,  comedian,  now  has  his  own  Sunday 
afternoon  CBS  show.  He  says  that  when  he  takes  a 
pretty  date  to  dinner  he  doesn't  like  to  see  her  lipstick 
leave  smeary  traces  on  her  fork,  spoon,  coffee  cup,  and 
napkin.  Not  all  girls  do,  so  he  knows  there's  a  way 
to  get  it  on  so  it  doesn't  come  off  easily.  And  when  she 
repairs  her  lip  make-up  after  eating,  if  she  has  to  screw 
her  mouth  all  around  her  face  to  get  the  coloring  on 
exactly  right,  he  wishes  she'd  trot  off  to  the  powder  room 
to  do  the  job.  If  she  has  to  fish  around  in  an  overstuffed 
purse  to  find  a  "has-been"  compact,  and  then  powders 
her  nose  with  its  greasy,  soiled  puff,  he  immediately 
concludes  that  she's  the  kmd  of  girl  whose  bureau 
drawers  and  closets  are  always-  in  an  unruly  mess.  He 
also  doesn't  like  crooked  stocking  seams,  slips  showing, 
high-pitched  voices,  droopy  postures. 

Robert  Merrill,  singing  star  of  NBC's  RCA  Victor 
Show,  doesn't  care  whether  the  girl  turns  out  to  be 
beautiful  or  not.  He  just  wants  her  to  be  an  attractive 
eyeful,  and  not  go  in  for  extremes  in  clothes  and  make- 
up. For  if  a  girl  tries  to  look  like  a  sophisticated  woman 
of  the  world  when  she  isn't  the  type,  she  appears  ludi- 
crous. Bob  avoids  girls  like  this.  He  feels  sure  he  would 
never  fall  so  blindly  in  love  that  he'd  fail  to  notice 
chipped  nail  polish,  and  hands  that  aren't  soft  and  white. 
What  he  thinks  he  means  is  that  he  wants  her  always 
to  be  exquisitely  dainty,  ladylike  and  natural. 

Kenneth  Banghart,  announcer  for  the  same  show,  and 
also  an  NBC  newscaster,  definitely  favors  the  well- 
groomed  career  woman  type — who  can  cook.  He  hopes 
someday  to  find  one  who  has  the  intelligence  to  agree  or 
to  disagree  with  him  on  world  events,  without  being  too 
determined  or  too  sweet  about  expressing  her  opinions. 
He  wants  her  to  like  people  as  much  as  he  does,  so  that 
she'll  be  a  charming,  unruffled  hostess  to  his  many 
friends  who  like  to  drop  in  on  him  unexpectedly.  If  she 
has  plenty  of  "get  up  and  go,"  their  life  together  would, 
he's  sure,  never  be  monotonous,  but  forever  interesting. 
He  admits  this  looks  like  a  large  order  to  fill,  and  that 
he  may  someday  settle  for  less  providing  the  woman 
is  a  genuine,  understanding  person. 

Jimmy  Blaine,  ABC  announcer  on  the  Edwin  C.  Hill 
news  program,  says  he's  found  the  girl  who  has  all  the 
lovely  qualities  he's  been  looking  for,  and  even  more 
than  he  hoped  for.  His  recent  bride,  the  former  Phyl 
Fish,  was  personal  secretary  to  Harry  Wismer,  ABC's 
Director  of  Sports.  Besides  having  all  the  attractions 
Lewis,  Merrill,  and  Banghart  specify,  Phyl,  Jimmy 
proudly  boasts,  has  that  "well-scrubbed,"  typical  Amer- 
ican girl  look  he's  always  admired.  She  also  has  the 
knack  of  making  him  feel  as  though  he  could  go  out 
and  lick  the  world  with  only  one  hand. 


RADIO  MIRROR  for  REHER  LIVING 


lf^a.Lt;f    cJ-^^ 


\ 


Smiling   Patsy    Lee   sings 
with  the  Breakfast  Club. 

SONGSTRESS  Patsy  Lee  of  the 
Breakfast  Club  (ABC,  Monday 
through  Friday,  9  AM.  EST)  is  one 
girl  who  isn't  waiting  with  bated 
breath  to  go  to  California.  The  reason? 
Patsy  came  from  California  to  find  her 
fortune  in  Chicago. 

Patsy  has  just  turned  twenty  and  has 
been  singing,  or  dancing,  or  both  at  the 
same  time,  since  she  was  five.  Born  in 
Berkeley,  California,  she  was  an  only 
child  and  got  a  lot  of  attention  from 
parents  and  grandparents  alike.  The 
result  was  that  as  soon  as  she  could 
walk  without  wobbling,  she  was  sent  to 
dancing  school.  She  proved  a  natural 
for  it  and  started  dancing  profession- 
ally at  the  age  of  seven. 

While  in  grammar  school,  her  grand- 
father decided  she  ought  to  be  able  to 
sing,  too.  So  he  bought  her  a  piano 
and  started  her  on  singing  lessons.  It 
wasn't  long  before  she  found  singing 
much  more  fun  than  dancing  and  gave 
up  the  more  strenuous  part  of  her 
training.  . 

All  through  her  high  school  days, 
Patsy  sang  with  local  California  bands. 
"I  was  on  thousands  of  amateur  shows," 
she  says  with  a  grin.  "Everyone  in  the 
vicinity  of  San  Francisco  must  have 
recognized  me  and  wondered  when  I 
would  ever  reach  the  so-called  pro- 
fessional stage  in  my  singing  career." 

It  was  during  Patsy's  last  year  at  high 
school,  six  months  before  graduation, 
that  she  got  her  first  real  break.  She 
joined  the  CBS  station  in  San  Francisco 
as  a  staff  singer  and,  upon  graduation, 
worked  there  full  time  for  the  next 
two  years.  She  might  be  there,  yet,  if  it 
hadn't  been  for  a  lucky  fluke. 

There  was  another  girl  singer  on  the 
staff  and  a  friend  of  hers  knew  some- 
one connected  with  the  Breakfast  Club 
show  and  knew  the  club  show  people 
were  looking  for  a  singer.  The  other 
singer's  friend  planned  to  send  in 
one  of  her  recordings  as  an  audition. 
Hearing  of  this,  a  friend  of  Patsv's 
talked  the  other  girl's  friend  into  send- 
ing one  of  Patsy's  records  along,  too. 

The  other  girl  didn't  get  a  tumble, 
but  Patsy  was  shortly  notified  that  if 
she  wanted  to  come  to  Chicago  and  take 
a  chance,  she  would  be  placed  on  the 
show  for  one  week.  That  was  all  the 
inducement  Patsy  needed.  She  hopped 
the  first  plane  for  Chicago.  After  her 
first  week,  she  was  on  and  off  the  show 
for  about  ten  months.  Now  she  is  a 
permanent  member  of  the  cast. 

"It's  lots  of  fun  and  I  love  it.  I  just 
found  an  apartment  and  I'm  decorating 
it,  so  I'm  really  enjoying  Chicago.  Some- 
times, I  get  a  little  homesick  for  Cali- 
fornia weather  and  my  family,  but  I 
certainly  don't  hear  the  call  of  the  west 
as  far  as  a  career  is  concerned." 


// 


*?  existed 

DIAMONDS 


^^ 


says  Junior  Standish,  New  York's  most  ravishing 
chorus  girl. 

"A  man  doesn't  have  to  give  me  diamonds,"  she 
adds,  "but — it  helps!"  Junior  seems  to  know  how 
to  get  what  she  wants.  Both  Milton  Berle  and 
Joey  Adams  have  tried  the  diamond  treatment  and 
she  still  isn't  saying  which  one,  if  either,  is  making 
any  headway. 

Read  the  amazing  story  of  this  fabulous  girl  from 
the  south  who  got  her  first  chorus  job  in  a  New 
York  night  club  at  the  age  of  12  and  is  still  going 
strong. 

In  January 

TRUE    EXPERIENCES 

the  woman's  magazine  of  fact  not  fiction 


Also  in  this  exciting  issue: 


^  "I  CAN'T  WALK  AND  I  DON'T  CARE" 

Singer  Connee  Boswell's  story  of  courage  and 
determination  that  has  brought  her  fame  and 
happiness. 

*  "I  AM  A  LADY  CABBY" 

The  thrills,  humor  and  just  plain  hard  work 
that  go  with  driving  a  hack  in  Manhattan  are 
part  of  cabby  Betty  Fishbein's  story. 

*  "MY  DECISION  MEANT  LIFE  AND  DEATH" 

Her  husband  and  baby  boy  were  both  drown- 
ing! Which  one  would  she  save  was  Hannah 
Myers',  grim  choice. 


Read  the  25  thrilling  fact-features  in  January 

TRCE 
EXPERIENCES 

magazine  now  on  sale  at  all  newsstands. 

Listen  to 

"THE  RIGHT 
TO   HAPPINESS" 

every  day  Monday  through  Friday  over  NBC. 


Read  Carolyn  Kramer's  "Right  To  Happiness"  column  every  month  in  TRUE 


EXPERIENCES  magazine  and  win  $50. 


R 
M 

21 


LIFE  CAN  BE  BEAUTIEUL 


X 


^;^ 


/?.  -' 


Radio  Mirror's  Best  Letter  of  the  Month 
MORE  BLESSED  TO  GIVE 

Dear  Papa  David: 

Several  years  ago,  my  husband,  small  daugh- 
ter and  I  lived  in  a  little  Tennessee  town.  I 
took  my  little  girl,  eight  years  old,  to  see  a 
Negro  boy  of  about  the  same  age  who  was 
suffering  from  an  incurable  ailment  from 
which  he  died  a  few  months  later. 

A  few  days  after  our  visit  I  suggested  to  my 
daughter  that  she  and  her  best  girl  friend  get 
up  a  Sunshine  Basket  for  the  little  boy.  I 
typed  a  note  explaining  about  the  child,  and 
the  girls  took  the  note  from  house  to  house  in 
our  town,  asking  for  a  small  donation  of 
money,  food,  or  anything  that  might  give 
pleasure  to  a  sick  child  whose  parents  were 
very  poor.  The  girls  walked  for  two  hours  and 
brought  in  many  gifts  and  several  dollars. 
Under  my  supervision  they  purchased  candy, 
cookies,  fruit,  toys  of  many  kinds,  and  even 
a  new  pair  of  pajamas.  When  they  had  bought 
everything  they  could  think  of  there  was  a 
little  more  than  a  dollar  left. 

We  took  the  dollar  bill  to  the  bank  and 
changed  it  for  one  hundred  pennies;  then  we 
bought  a  large  leather  coin  purse.  The  girls 
wrapped  all  their  gifts  lovingly  and  attrac- 
tively in  bright  paper.  Then  they  washed  the 
pennies  in  hot  soapsuds  with  a  little  vinegar 
added,  until  the  copper  shone  like  gold.  When 
the  big  basket  was  all  packed,  I  took  the  girls 
out  to  the  edge  of  town  where  the  little  boy 
lived.  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  his  face  as 
he  opened  those  gifts,  especially  the  purse.  As 
those  pennies  poured  out  he  momentarily  for- 
got his  pain.  He  counted  them  over  and  over, 
his  face  bright  and  happy.  But  brighter  even 
than  the  invalid's  face  were  the  faces  of  those 
two  little  girls. 

They  learned  that  day  that  it  is  more  blessed 
to  give  than  to  receive,  and  I  think  the  lesson 
will  go  with  them  through  life.  It  impressed 
on  them,  too,  that  God  is  no  respecter  of 
persons,  regardless  of  color  or  race;  that  people 
should  be  color-blind,  too,  and  that  our 
"neighbor"  is  every  human  being  in  the  world! 

Mrs.  L.  W.  C. 


The  ten-dollar  letters  follow: 
NEW  IDEA,  NEW  HOPE 

Dear  Papa  David: 

I  had  been  brought  up  as  an  only  child, 
surrounded  by  a  circle  of  doting  relatives. 
After  I  grew  up  and  had  been  married  a  few 
years,  my  whole  world  came  crashing  down 
around  me.  My  husband  ran  away  with  an- 
other woman,  leaving  me  with  two  small 
children  to  raise  and  educate.  My  father,  who 
had  lost  most  of  his  money  in  the  crash  of  '29, 
was  drinking  heavily  and  disappearing  mys- 
teriously at  intervals.  My  beloved  mother, 
weakened  by  these  blows,  lost  her  mind  and 
had  to  be  placed  in  an  institution,  where  she 
died  a  few  months  later. 

Dazed  and  bewildered,  I  felt  unable  to  go 
on  living.  I  decided  that  the  only  solution  to 
my  problem  was  suicide.  Just  as  I  had  my 
plans  almost  completed,  our  family  doctor 
came  to  me  and  asked  me  if  I  would  take  a 
new-born  baby  into  my  home  temporarily.  I 
would  be  well  paid,  he  said,  and  he  would 
consider  it  a  personal  favor.  He  was  a  very 
wise  and  discerning  man;  since  he  had  been 
kind  to  me,  alnnost  beyond  belief,  I  consented. 
He  brought  the  baby — a  sweet,  appealing  little- 
mite  who  not  only  crept  into  my  heart  but  was 
instantly  claimed  by  my  own  two  as  "baby 
sister." 

When,  six  months  later,  we  had  to  give  her 
into  other  hands,  new  hope  and  a  new  idea 
sprang  into  life  for  me.  I  suddenly  came  to  my 
senses.  Why  not  take  in  other  needy  children 
and  give  them — and  my  own  girls — the  loving 
care  so  necessary  to  their  well-being,,  and  at 
the  same  time  provide  an  adequate  living 
without  having  to  leave  my  home?  And  judg- 
ing from  the  joy  that  first  baby  brought,  my 
life  would  be  made  over. 

All  that  was  sixteen  years  ago.  My  girls  are 
married  and  I  have  recently  become  a  grand- 
mother. I  have  health,  happiness  and  peace  of 
mind — all  because  I  learned  the  "life  can  be 
beautiful"  lesson  before  it  was  too  late. 

Mrs.  V.  B. 

(Continued  on  page  78) 


R 

M 

22 


RADIO  MIRROR  OFFERS  $50  EACH  MONTH  FOR  YOUR  LETTERS 

Somewhere  in  everyone's  life  is  hidden  a  key  to  happiness.  It  may  be  a  half-forgotten  friend, 
a  period  of  suffering,  an  unimportant  incident,  which  suddenly  illuminated  the  whole  meaning 
of  life.  If  you  are  treasuring  such  a  memory,  won't  you  write  to  Papa  David  about  it?  For  the 
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Can  Be  Beautiful  letter  tcPapa  David,  Radio  Mirror  Magazine,  205  East  42  Street,  N.  Y.  17,  N.  Y. 


LIFE  CAN  BE  BEAUTIFUL,  written  by  Carl  Bixby  and  Don  Becker,  is  heard  Mon.-Fri.  on  NBC  at  12  Noon,  PST;1  P.M.  MST;  2  P.M.  CST;  3  P.M.  EST. 


Peggy  Monroe  shows  Terry  Burton  how  the 
bricked-up  chimneys  became  fireplaces,  how  built- 
in  storage  space  covered  up  cracked  walls. 


Even  a  warehous 


with  planning,  be  a  home 


WHILE  in  New  York  a  while  ago,  I  met  Peggy  Monroe, 
who  invited  me  to  see  what  I  like  to  call  Monroes'  Miracle 
— the  apartment  she  and  her  husband,  Paul,  transformed 
into  very  attractive  living  quarters  from  a  dingy  Manhattan 
warehouse. 

Knowing  that  many  listeners  would  like  to  hear  how  one 
ingenious  young  couple  solved  the  housing  problem,  I  invited 
Peggy  Monroe  to  visit  us  as  a  Family  Counselor.  The  story 
she  told,  and  the  pictures  on  this  page,  go  to  prove  that  any 
sort  of  house — even  a  warehouse — can  be  made  a  home. 

It  started  as  a  storage  room,  sixty-five  by  twenty-three  feet. 
Workmen  installed  utilities — there  was  no  plumbing — parti- 
tioned, kitchen  and  bath.  Paul  caulked  the  floors  with  white 
lead  containing  DDT  and  used  a  special  rubber  paint  to  guard 
against  mice,  insects  and  damp.  The  original  mustard-colored 
walls  were  painted  with  seven  coats  of  dark  green  to  help  hide 
imperfections.  Biggest  surprise  of  all  was  finding  two  closed 
chimneys  which,  when  opened,  were  turned  into  two  delight- 
ful fireplaces.  One  dollar's  worth  of  packing  cases  became 
window  seats,  upholstered  in  foam  rubber  and  covered  in  gay 
zebra-striped  material. 

"If  a  young  couple,"  Peggy  told  us,  "must  live  with  in-laws, 
or  in  crowded  quarters,  or  call  a  hotel  a  home,  or  can't  afford 
high  rent  or  building  costs,  they'd  be  wise  to  do  as  we  did. 
Any  tov^Ti  might  offer  a  warehouse,  barn  or  shop  to  be  trans- 
formed with  planning  and  hard  work.  Working  together — 
that's  what  counts.    And  that's  what's  fun!" 


Just  outside  the  door  of  the  compact 
kitchen  is  the  breakfast  bar,  only  one  of 
the  step-saving  plans  of  Monroes'  Miracle. 


fiv    TERRY    RURION     • 


'VUv  St*tH>ittl  Mrs.  Burton,  with  Fan>il>  <U>u«i*«-lor  ui*  a  \***<'kiy  feature, 
is  heard  Monelu)  through  Fritlaj  al21'.JVl.,  KS'I'.ovrr  the  (^BS  network. 


R 

■1 

^  23 


%TnUTH  dvst 


By 

RALPH 
EDWARDS 


BACK  on  the  farm  when  I  was  a  boy  in  Colorado,  enter- 
tainment, like  food,  was  a  homegrown  product. 
There  was  no  radio  in  our  house  in  those  days  and  no 
trucking  out  after  dark  to  go  into  town  for  a  Coke  or 
the  movies. 

My  mother  believed  in  the  fireside  family,  thank  heavens. 
For  it  was  out  of  games  played  by  our  big  old  range  that 
Truth  or  Consequences  was  born. 

Many  were  the  rainy  nights  when  mother  and  dad  and 
three  of  us  boys  racked  our  brains  over  guessing  games, 
dressed  up  for  Charades,  spun  scarey  stories  for  Ghosts, 
but  the  best  nights  of  all  were  with  a  gang  around  when 
we  sing-songed  "Heavy  Heavy  Hangs  Over  Thy  Head  .  .  . 
Is  it  Fine  or  Superfine?  Tell  the  truth  or  pay  the 
consequences." 

The  consequences  were  pretty  simple  in  those  pre-radio 
days,  usually  involving  kissing  Cousin  Sue  or  the  girl  next 
door.  Even  then,  you  see,  it  was  more  profitable  to  take 
the  consequences. 

I  can  remember  the  exact  second  when  that  old  game 
flashed  into  my  mind  as  possibly  convertible  to  radio. 

It  was  late  on  a  Thursday  afternoon,  November  13,  1939. 


r^ 


J\ 


Hilarious   consequence:    "Donkey   Serenade"   with   proper   accompaniment! 

74e  mcut  u/^  ^Ptade  it  €i  ^  ^u^i^e^^  tM^  ^^^  ^^  u^ 

t^  c^cic(Aa<^  ^^^ame  ^^^  cAa^t^cC  ^mce  t^  da^^  u^a€  cf<Mn. 

ccH^^acccttcc  cu^^  ta  ^U^  t^  io^  (text  do<n 


I  had  just  taxied  home  from  the  network  studios  where  I 
spent  my  days  seUing  soap — same  as  now,  except  that  then 
I  was  strictly  an  announcer,  on  a  flock  of  daytime  shows. 

In  the  taxi — as  in  recent  weeks  wherever  I  had  been, 
at  the  dinner  table,  in  front  of  the  microphone,  or  in  my 
dreams — I  was  kicking  around  The  Big  Problem. 

Half  of  the  radio  people  in  New  York  were  fretting 
over  The  Big  Problem  in  those  days.  The  Big  Chance  it 
was,  too:  to  come  up  with  a  program  idea  for  an  important 
sponsor  who,  scuttlebutt  had  it,  would  buy  a  nighttime 
radio  show  if  they  could  latch  onto  a  really  fresh  idea. 

A  family  type  show  was  wanted,  something  friendly  and 
folksy.  Could  be  a  quiz  show — Professor  Quiz  and  the 
brand  new  Information  Please  were  the  radio  sensations  of 
the  moment — but  it  had  to  be  homey.  This  was  all  we  knew. 

Quizzes,  contests,  games — as  I  say,  I  was  dreaming  about 
them;  trying  to  come  up  with  something — as  my  wife, 
Barbara,  and  I  had  decided  in  hashing  it  over — which  gave 
the  contestant  a  little  more  of  a  run  for  his  money. 

And  then,  just  as  I  threw  my  hat  on  the  foyer  table  and 
started  down  the  hall  to  say  Hi  to  Barbara  and  her  parents 
who  had  come  to  town  for  a  visit,  it  hit  me. 

Truth  or  Consequences,  with  Ralph  Edwards  as  M 
This  Is  Your  Life.  Ralph  Edwards'  ne-w  program. 


"Heavy,  Heavy  Hangs  Over  Thy  Head!" 

Truth  or  Consequences. 

I  said  Hi,  I  guess.  I  went  through  the  usual  motions  of 
entering  a  room  and  acknowledging  the  presence  of  the 
other  people  in  it.  But  for  half  an  hour  I  didn't  hear  a  word 
that  anybody — including  myself — said. 

At  the  end  of  that  half  hour  I  went  to  the  phone  and 
called  John  MacMillan,  at  that  time  Radio  Director  at  the 
Conipton  agency. 

"I  think  I  have  it,"  I  said.  "It's  gamey."  I  meant  game-y. 
I  told  him  my  idea  for  Truth  or  Consequences. 

John  didn't  say  anything  until  I  had  finished.  I  had  out- 
lined half  a  dozen  ideas  for  stunts,  including  one  with  a 
telephone  tie-up,  I  remember.  I  even  recalled  some  of  the 
old  stunts  I  had  performed  on  the  radio  while  still  in  col- 
lege. Jokes,  angles  had  rushed  into  place  as  I  filled  the 
story  out. 

"This  is  it,"  I  was  thinking,  even  with  the  long  silence  at 
the  other  end  of  the  line. 

Then  John  said,  "When  can  you  audition  it?" 

This  was  it,  all  right. 

"Oh,"  I  said  as  casually  as  I    (Continued  on  page  86) 

C,  is  heard  Saturdays  at  8:30  P.M.  EST,  over  NBC. 
is  heard  Tuesday  nights  at  8,  EST,  also  over  NBC. 


R 
H 

25 


With  Jimmy:  Eddie  Jackson  (left),  part  of  the  old  team 
of  Clayton,  Jackson  and  Durante,  and  Jack  Roth  (right), 
old   friend   who's   now   the   partnership's   business   aide. 


WHEN  Jimmy  Durante  boxes  the  compass,  he  doesn't 
just  board,  nail  and  ship  it.  He  goes  with  it.  Jimmy 
has  pointed  the  famous  schnozzola  north,  east,  west, 
south  and  in  multoodinous  other  directions,  including 
straight  up  into  the  wild  blue  yonder. 

Through  it  all — off  stage  and  on  stage,  on  trains  and 
planes,  in  Turkish  baths  and  London  fogs,  I've  been  with 
Jimmy  for  thirty-four  years.  And  that's  a  record  for 
show  business  or  any  other  business.  When  you  can 
laugh  and  cry,  eat  and  work  with  the  same  man  for  over 
three  decades,  brother,  you  know  he's  not  the  ordinary 
celebrity.   Jimmy  is  a  real  human  being. 

There  are  two  more  of  us  who  make  up  the  Durante 
Thirty  Year  Club — ^Lou  Clayton,  now  Jimmy's  business 
manager,  and  Jack  Roth,  drunxmer  and  business  aide. 
Compared  to  us,  the  Rover  Boys  are  nodding  acquain- 
tances. Until  late  night  or  early  morning,  whenever  our 
work  is  over  and  we  separate  to  our  own  families,  we're 
not  out  of  each  others'  sight.  When  Jimmy  gets  a  hair- 
cut, everyone  gets  a  haircut.  When  Jimmy  goes  to  the 
home  of  a  big  shot,  everyone  goes.  When  Jimmy  guzzles 
corn  flakes,  everyone  guzzles  corn  flakes.  When  Jimmy 
gets  seasick,  everyone  gets  seasick.  That's  the  way  it  is 
now  and  that's  the  way  it  was  when  we  first  got  started 
and  things  were  tough. 


After  three  decades.  Durante 


is   still  friends  with  his   partners, 


partners    with    his    friends. 


That  tells  plenty  ahout  all  of  them! 


By   EDDIE   JACKSON 


The  thin  days  back  in  the  early  twenties  when  we 
worked  for  bread  without  butter  are  gone  and  better 
off  forgotten.  The  turning  point  in  Jimmy's  career  and 
ours  came  in  1922  when  he  scraped  enough  money 
together  to  open  his  own  night  club.  And  believe  me, 
it  was  a  very  humble  beginning.  I  remember  the  last 
thing  to  be  ordered  was  an  electric  sign  to  read  "Club 
Durante." 

The  day  the  electricians  arrived  found  Jimmy  proudly 
watching  the  men  slide  the  sign  off  a  truck.  Suddenly 
the  grin  fell  from  his  face.  The  sign  read,  "Club  Durant." 

"No  c.  It's  uh  catastroscope,"  Jimmy  gasped.  "I'm 
practically  nekid." 

He  turned  to  the  electricians. 

"Youse  misconstrudled  me,"  he  said.  "Yuh  left  the  e 
off  Durante." 

The  boss  electrician  stepped  forward. 

"Look,  Mr.  Durante,  you  gave  us  $250  to  make  a  sign," 
he  said.  "We  charge  you  $25  a  letter.  For  twenty-five 
bucks  more  we  put  on  the  e." 

Jimmy  dipped  into  his  very  empty  pockets  and  came 
up  with  air.  Then  slowly  the  broad  grin  crept  over  his 
face. 

"Fuhgit  it,  gennumen,"  he  said  magnanimously  and 
tossed  his  schnozzola  aloft.   "To  (Continued  on  page  70) 


Jimmy  Durante  is  heard  Friday  nights  at  8:30  EST,  on  NBC  network  Ktations. 


^ 


#-'i 


For  a  lot  of  people  all  over  the 

world,  the  words  "Durante"  and  "comedy" 

are  interchangeahle.  This  story  by 

one  of  Jimmy's  oldest  friends  shows  another 

side  of  Jimmy the  man  who  rarely 

has  time  for  breakfast  in  bed,  or  a  friendly 
game,  because— for  example- 
he's  loo  busy  sandwiching  benefits  into  a 
schedule  already  bursting-full. 


2.  Most  days.  Ridge  helps  the  maid  with  the  breakfast 
dishes.  When  Dorothy  is  home  she  takes  over  that 
chore  so  Ridge  can  be  with  her  and  still  not  feel 
he's  been  cheated  of  his  nimaber  one  honsehold  doty. 


WHEN,  on  January  8, 1946,  John  Ridge- 
ly  Howard  was  "bom  to  William  Ross 
Howard  III  and  his  wife  (known  else- 
where, but  not  at  home,  as  Dorothy 
Lamour)  the  Howards  made  a  pact.  He'll 
be  just  Ridge  Howard,  they  decided,  and 
not  the  son  of  a  famous  movie  star  and  a 
wealthy  Social  Registerite  advertising  ex- 
ecutive. He'll  be  a  little  boy  like  a  million 
other  little  boys.  They've  kept  the  pact. 
Dorothy  and  Bill  met  during  the  war 
when  Bill  was  a  Major  in  the  Army  Air 
Forces.  Now,  five  years  later,  they're  more 
in  love  than  ever.  The  Howard  house 
operates  on  schedule — ^has  to,  with  so 
many  busy  people  part  of  it.  Bill  has  his 
advertising  business.  Dorothy  has  her  pic- 
ture career,  a  dress  designing  bxisiness,  and 
now  her  very-important-to-her  radio 
program,  Variety  Theatre,  on  NBC  Thurs- 
days at  9:30  P.M.,  EST. 

The  Howards  manage  to  keep  "office 
hours"  like  any  other  working  couple, 
with  nothing  allowed  to  interfere  with  the 
time  spent  with  Ridge.  A  maid,  Ridge's 
nurse,  and  Dorothy's  mother,  Mrs.  Castle- 
berry  (called  by  her  grandson  "Mrs.  Cof- 
feepot" for  reasons  known  only  to  him) 
complete  the  household — ^as  normal  and 
happy  a  one  as  if  it  were  on  Main  Street 
in  any  town,  instead  of  in  Beverly  HiUs. 


5.  Ridge's  day,  under  the  watchful  eye  of  his  nurse,  follows 
a  strict  schedule,  with  meals,  naptime,  playtime,  bedtime  at 
set  hours  by  the  clock.  When  Dorothy's  home,  playtime  takes 
the  form  of  helping, mother,  more  fun  than  little-boy  pastimes. 


28 


To  Young  Ridge  Howard, 

she's  not  Dorothy  Lamour.   She's  his 

mother,  and  it's  a  great  day 

when  he  can  help  her  "do"  the  house 


:  The  Howard.^'  hou.-e  iV  a  large  but  not 
spectacular  one — not  a  guard  in  sight,  no 
swimming  pool,  no  "frojit."  But  it  is  just 
what    thev    want    it   to    be — a    home    for   Ridge. 


6.  Sometimes,  dinner's  early  enough  for  Ridge  to  share,  and 
weather  permitting,  his  favorite  eating  is  outdoor-  eating, 
with  just  enough  Howard  cooks  not  to  spoil  the  broth.  After 
supper  comes  Daddy's  romp  with  Ridge.   Bedtime  is  seven. 


7.  No  bath-resistance  here.  Ridge  loves  it,  and  he's  very 
proud  of  his  after-bath  robes,  especially  the  ones  Mommy 
made  for  him.  His  favorite  is  a  man-tailored  terry  cloth 
number    with    bunny    fur    scuffs    completing    the    ensemble. 


2.  Most  days.  Ridge  helps  the  maid  with  the  breakfast 
dishes.  'Wheii  Dorothy  is  home  she  takes  over  that 
chore  so  Ridge  can  be  with  her  and  still  not  feel 
he's  been  cheated  of  his  nnmber  one  household  duty. 


To  Young  Ridge  Howard, 

she's  not  Dorothy  Lamour.   She's  his 

mother,  and  it's  a  great  day 

when  he  can  help  her  "do"  the  house 


28 


WHEN,  on  January  8,  1946,  John  Ridge- 
ly  Howard  was  bom  to  William  Ross 
Howard  III  and  his  wife  (known  else- 
where, but  not  at  home,  as  Dorothy 
Lamour)  the  Howards  made  a  pact.  He'll 
be  just  Ridge  Howard,  they  decided,  and 
not  the  son  of  a  famous  movie  star  and  a 
wealthy  Social  Registerite  advertising  ex- 
ecutive. He'll  be  a  Bttle  boy  like  a  million 
other  little  boys.  They've  kept  the  pact. 
Dorothy  and  BiU  met  during  the  war 
when  Bill  was  a  Major  in  the  Army  Air 
Forces.  Now,  five  years  later,  they're  more 
in  love  than  ever.  The  Howard  house 
operates  on  schedule — ^has  to,  with  so 
many  busy  people  part  of  it.  BiU  has  his 
advertising  business.  Dorothy  has  her  pic- 
ture career,  a  dress  designing  business,  and 
now  her  very-important-to-her  radio 
program.  Variety  Theatre,  on  NBC  Thurs- 
days at  9:30  P.M.,  EST. 

The  Howards  manage  to  keep  "office 
hours"  like  any  other  working  couple, 
with  nothing  allowed  to  interfere  with  the 
time  spent  with  Ridge.  A  maid,  Ridge's 
nurse,  and  Dorothy's  mother,  Mrs.  Castle- 
berry  (called  by  her  grandson  "Mrs.  Cof- 
feepot" for  reasons  known  only  to  him) 
complete  the  household — as  normal  and 
happy  a  one  as  if  it  were  on  Main  Street 
in  any  town,  instead  of  in  Beverly  HiUs. 


5.  Ridge's  day,  under' the  watchful  eye  of  his  nnrse,  follows 
a  strict  schediile,  with  meals,  naptime,  playtime,  bedtime  at 
set  hours  by  the  clock.  When  Dorothy's  home,  playtime  takes 
the  form  of  helping.mother,  more  fun  than  little-boy  pastimes. 


6.  Sometimes,  dinner's  early  enough  for  Ridge  to  share,  and 
weather  permitting,  his  favorite  eating  is  outdoor  eating, 
with  just  enough  Howard  cooks  not  to  spoil  the  broth.  After 
supper  comes  Daddy's  romp  with  Ridge.   Bedtime  is  seven. 


7.  No  bath-resistance  here.  Ridge  loves  it,  and  he's  very 
proud  of  his  after-bath  robes,  especially  the  ones  Mommy 
made  for  him.  His  favorite  is  a  man-tailored  terry  cloth 
number    with    bunny    fur   scuffs    completing    the    ensemble. 


■ 

-  r  ^ ' 

■^■^■1! 

1 

1 

BT^INGING  U 


By 

HARRIET 

MILLIARD 

NELSON 


A  "HALF-NELSON"  is,  as  you 
probably  know,  a  wrestling  hold. 
An  effective  one,  I  understand. 
Sometimes,  when  Ozzie  thinks  that 
he  has  deciphered  some  of  the  more 
obscure  behavior  of  one  of  our  young 
sons,  he  says  he  has  a  half-Nelson 
on  the  boy.  But  he  always  adds, 
quickly,  "Of  course,  the  other  half  is 
Hilliard" — ^meaning  that  there  is  no 
telling  what  will  happen  next. 


I  certainly  wouldn't  set  myself  up 
as  an  expert  on  the  training  of  sons, 
despite  the  fact  that  a  great  many 
mothers  write  to  me  to  inquire  how 
I  have  handled  such-and-such  a 
problem  in  our  family.  Sometimes  I 
am  greatly  reUeved  to  discover  that 
the  problem  outlined  by  a  troubled 
mother  is  one  I  have  never  been 
called  upon  to  face;  sometimes  I 
can  write  to  give  my  version  of  the 


,)r  is  it,  perhaps,  the  boys  who  are  bringing  up  Ozzie  a 


let?  That's  a  question  that  arises 


TH  E  BOyS 


same  difficulty  described  by  my 
correspondent. 

If  one  were  to  attempt  to  confine 
our  "fun"  family  life  to  the  yardstick 
of  one  cardinal  rule,  I  suppose  he 
would  say  that  we  have  always  re- 
garded one  another  as  individuals 
with  individual  needs,  aims,  and 
personalities.  Mutual  respect  is  our 
iinchanging  motto. 

We  enjoy  one  another. 


At  the  present  time,  for  instance, 
we  are  deep  in  daily  playing  of  the 
word  game.  At  dinner  every  night 
the  whole  family  joins  in.  We  learn 
several  new  words,  how  to  spell 
them,  how  to  pronounce  them,  and 
how  to  use  them  in  a  sentence.  It's 
true  that  this  practice  is  aiding  the 
boys'  school  work  because  words 
are  the  keys  to  every  door  of  human 
knowledge,  but  sometimes  Ozzie  and 


t 

4 

>      r 

V,, 

^^^ 

Like  other  voung  parents,  Harriet  and  Ozzie  are  beKinning  to 
think  that  with  what  they've  learned  from  David,  12  (left)  and 
Ricky,  8,  they  conld  fill  a  textbook.  But  they're  too  busy  to  write  it. 


I  SO  regularly  in  the  Nelson  household  that  father  Ozzie  has  become  a  master... at  evading  it 


BT^INaiNG  UT 


By 

HARRIET 

MILLIARD 

NELSON 


A  "HALF-NELSON"  is,  as  you 
probably  know,  a  wrestling  hold. 
An  effective  one,  I  understand. 
Sometimes,  when  Ozzie  thinks  that 
he  has  deciphered  some  of  the  more 
obscure  behavior  o£  one  of  our  yoting 
sons,  he  says  he  has  a  half -Nelson 
on  the  boy.  But  he  always  adds, 
quickly,  "Of  couise,  the  other  half  is 
Hilliard" — meaning  that  there  is  no 
telling  what  will  happen  next. 


I  certainly  wouldn't  set  myself  up 
as  an  expert  on  the  training  of  sons, 
despite  the  fact  that  a  great  many 
mothers  write  to  me  to  inquire  how 
I  have  handled  such-and-such  a 
problem  in  our  family.  Sometimes  I 
am  greatly  relieved  to  discover  that 
the  problem  outUned  by  a  troubled 
mother  is  one  I  have  never  been 
called  upon  to  face;  sometimes  I 
can  write  to  give  my  version  of  the 


THEBOys 


same  difficulty  described  by  my 
correspondent. 

If  one  were  to  attempt  to  confine 
our  "fun"  family  life  to  the  yardstick 
of  one  cardinal  rule,  I  suppose  he 
would  say  that  we  have  always  re- 
garded one  another  as  individuals 
with  individual  needs,  aims,  and 
personalities.  Mutual  respect  is  our 
unchanging  motto. 

We  enjoy  one  another. 


Ukr  olhrr  roung  parcni.'i,  Harrit'l  and  Ozzie  arc  bcniiiiiiiiy  lu 
lliiiik  Ihal  wilh  whal  they've  Irariird  from  David,  12  (l.-fl)  and 
Rirk.v,  8,  lliey  could  fill  a  lexUiook.  But  they're  loo  busy  to  write  it. 


>r  IS  It,  perhaps,  the  boys  who  are  bringing  up  Ozzie  and  Harrjet?  That's  a  question  that  arises  ■        regularly  in  the  Nelson  household  that  father  Ozzie  has  become  a  master... at  evading  Ti 


Ozzie's  petty  cash  system  is  simple:  he  'disposes  cur- 
rency here  and  there  among  his  pockets.  Harriet  is 
always  richer  the  day  she  sends  a  suit  to  the  cleaner. 


■■■^^ 

^^■■■JI^H 

^H| 

^^^^^^^^^^1^1 

H 

Hg 

1 

I 

MP 

PiH«r-  y^^r    \ "' 

^^^^^^^T^l 

WkJ^SM 

'  -^jU-j. 

H      -^           ■mi 

1 

1 

^H  %^[^^^ 

1 

^H^^  .^jl 

1 

1 

BRINGING 


•^y^ii'^Tsm^^m 


I  are  amazed  to  discover  how  much  the  game  is 
helping  us. 

I  grew  up  in  a  trunk  because  my  parents  were 
theatrical  people,  so  I'm  usually  good  at  geo- 
graphical names;  Ozzie  shines  when  the  word  has 
a  legal  tinge  because  he  took  his  law  degree  from 
New  Jersey  Law  School.  He  had  pleinned  to  con- 
tinue with  his  band  until  he  had  ten  thousand 
dollars;  then  he  was  going  to  sink  this  fund  into 
a  law  office  and  hang  out  his  shingle.  By  the 
time  he  had  ten  thousand  dollars,  he  couldn't 
afford  to  quit  the  band  business  and  start  over 
again  as  a  struggling  young  attorney.  Little  did 
he  think,  when  he  was  struggling  through  "con- 
tracts" and  "real  property"  that  the  day  would 
come  when — at  a  Hollywood  dinner  table — ^he 
woiild  be  able  to  explain  the  phrase  "time  is  of 
the  essence"  to  his  two  sons! 

Some  very  funny  dialogue  sometimes  results 
from  our  attempts  to  advance  the  boys'  vocab- 
vdary  power.  A  few  years  ago  an  eimbulance,  its 
siren  screaming,  scorched  down  Hollywood  Botde- 
vard  only  a  few  htindred  feet  from  our  front  lawn. 

Said  David  (aged  seven  at  the  time)  "Look  at 
that  old  'amblience'  go,  ■will  you!" 

Ricky  (then  four)  corrected  him  loftUy.  "You 
mean  an  'anulope,'  don't  you?" 

I  rather  like  that  word  "anulope."  It  sounds  like 


Oszie  and  Harriet  are  heard 


Harriet's  own  version  of  the  Hat  Dance — ^performed 
when  she  has  to  stake  a  new  claim  for  her  hat  collec- 
tion, which  periodically   outgrows   its   allotted   quarters. 


UT  THE  BOYS 


a  cross  between  an  antelope  and  an  ambulance. 
David,  now  nearly  12,  can  be  lofty  about  his 
multi-syllable  words,  too.  He  glanced  out  of  his 
bedroom  window  the  other  day  and  noticed  that 
Ricky  and  some  of  his  friends  were  pushing  one 
another  in  the  pool  and  getting  a  little  rough 
about  it  as  boys  wUl.  When  David  decided  that 
the  fim  had  gone  far  enough,  he  shouted,  "All 
right,  all  right,  let's  suspense  with  that  stuff." 

RICKY  has  trouble  with  transposing  the  letters 
n  and  m.  Berlin,  in  our  family,  is  located 
firmly  in  "Gemamy,"  and  when  my  hair  needs 
attention,  I  get  a  "pemament"  wave.  Sometimes 
we  think  we  like  the  words  better  that  way. 

Also  in  observance  of  our  intention  of  enjoying 
one  another  is  the  plan  Ozzie  and  I  have  made 
for  recreation  with  the  boys.  Twice  a  week  I  take 
them  ice-skating  at  Hollywood's  Polar  Palace, 
and  twice  a  week  Ozzie  coaches  them  at  tennis. 

Both  boys  are  lucky  in  that  they  have  excellent 
coordination.  Things  seem  to  come  very  easy  to 
Ricky,  but  David  is  more  persevering.  Each  boy 
knows  what  the  other's  personahty  advantage  is, 
and  each  tries  to  be  mutually  helpftil.  David  has 
taught  Ricky  not  to  quit  when  things  get  a  httle 
too  comphcated  for  his  impatient,  facile  ^asp, 
and  the  younger  boy  has  taught  the  older  to  relax, 


that  things  will  be  easier  if  he  doesn't  try  too  hard. 

From  the  mail  I  receive,  I'm  inclined  to  believe 
that  in  some  famihes  the  children  suffer  from  corn- 
parigon  with  one  another  instead  of  benefiting 
from  their  perfectly  natural  differences.  That 
seems  such  a  tragedy  when  it  is  possible  to  point 
out  that  each  hxmian  being  excels  in  some  way. 
This  excellence  should  be  regarded  as  a  family 
possession  in  which  everyone  shares  and  from 
which  everyone  can  learn. 

Once  in  awhile,  one  of  our  boys  develops  inter- 
est in  a  hobby  that  we  approve,  but  which  we 
simply  can't  gratify.  Two  years  ago  David  decided 
that  he  wanted  a  horse  for  Christmas.  His  closet 
was  loaded  with  full  cowboy  regalia,  and  he  had 
steeped  himself  in  the  Saturday  movies  at  The 
Hitching  Post  Theatre.  He  potired  over  magazines 
containing  pictures  of  and  stories  about  Gene 
Autiy  or  Roy  Rogers,  and  he  covdd  recite  the  life 
of  Buffalo  Bill  backward.  His  favorite  comic  was 
Red  Ryder,  and  I  think  he  saw  "My  Friend  Flicka" 
half  a  dozen  times.  He  pawed  through  ovir  en- 
cyclopaedia to  learn  all  he  could  about  horses, 
and  confided  his  discoveries  to  us — at  length — at 
dinner  every  night.  He  had  it  bad. 

It's  easy  enough  to  tell  a  child  an  unexplained 
"no,"  but  we  have  made  it  a  practice  never  to  do 
it.   We  always  say,  "No,  {Continued  on  page  73) 


Sunday  nights   at  6:30  EST,  on  NBC  Network  Stations. 


33 


...i^^^ :  '-  i   \i: 


i 


Oizie's  petty  cash  system  is  simple:  he  -diaposes  cur- 
rency here  and  there  among  his  pockets.  Harriet  is 
always  richer  the  day  she  sends  a  suit  to  the  cleaner. 


^mets  own  version  of  the  Hal  Dance-performed 
when  she  has  to  slake  a  new  claim  for  her  hat  coUec- 
tion,  which  periodically   outgrows   its   allotted   quarters. 


BKIN^INa  '  UTTHEBOys 


I  are  amazed  to  discover  how  much  the  game  is 
helping  us. 

I  grew  up  in  a  trunk  because  my  parents  were 
theatrical  people,  so  I'm  usually  good  at  geo- 
graphical names;  Ozzie  shines  when  the  word  has 
a  legal  tinge  because  he  took  his  law  degree  from 
New  Jersey  Law  School.  He  had  planned  to  con- 
tinue with  his  band  until  he  had  ten  thousand 
dollars;  then  he  was  going  to  sink  this  fund  into 
a  law  office  and  hang  out  his  shingle.  By  the 
time  he  had  ten  thousand  dollars,  he  couldn't 
afford  to  quit  the  band  business  and  start  over 
again  as  a  struggling  young  attorney.  Little  did 
he  think,  when  he  was  struggling  through  "con- 
tracts" and  "real  property"  that  the  day  would 
come  when — at  a  Hollywood  dinner  table — he 
would  be  able  to  explain  the  phrase  "time  is  of 
the  essence"  to  his  two  sons! 

Some  very  funny  dialogue  sometimes  results 
from  our  attempts  to  advance  the  boys'  vocab- 
ulary power.  A  few  years  ago  an  ambulance,  its 
siren  screaming,  scorched  down  Hollywood  Boule- 
vard only  a  few  hundred  feet  from  ovir  front  lawn. 

Said  David  (aged  seven  at  the  time)  "Look  at 
that  old  'amblience'  go,  will  you!" 

Ricky  (then  fovir)  corrected  him  loftily.  "You 
mean  an  'anulope,'  don't  you?" 

I  rather  Hke  that  word  "anulope."   It  sounds  like 


Ozzie  and   Harriet  i 


a  cross  between  an  antelope  and  an  ambulance. 
David,  now  nearly  12,  can  be  lofty  about  his 
multi-syUable  words,  too.  He  glanced  out  of  his 
bedroom  window  the  other  day  and  noticed  that 
Ricky  and  some  of  his  friends  were  pushing  one 
another  in  the  pool  and  getting  a  little  rough 
about  it  as  boys  will.  When  David  decided  that 
the  fvm  had  gone  far  enough,  he  shouted,  "AU 
right,  all  right,  let's  suspense  virith  that  stuff." 

RICKY  has  trouble  with  transposing  the  letters 
n  and  m.  Berlin,  in  our  family,  is  located 
firmly  in  "Gemamy,"  and  when  my  hair  needs 
attention,  I  get  a  "pemament"  wave.  Sometimes 
we  think  we  like  the  words  better  that  way. 

Also  in  observance  of  our  intention  of  enjoying 
one  another  is  the  plan  Ozzie  and  I  have  made 
for  recreation  with  the  boys.  Twice  a  week  I  take 
them  ice-skating  at  Hollywood's  Polar  Palace, 
and  twice  a  week  Ozzie  coaches  them  at  tennis. 

Both  boys  are  lucky  in  that  they  have  excellent 
coordination.  Things  seein  to  come  very  easy  to 
Ricky,  but  David  is  more  persevering.  Each  boy 
knows  what  the  other's  personality  advantage  is, 
and  each  tries  to  be  mutually  helpful.  David  has 
taught  Ricky  not  to  quit  when  things  get  a  little 
too  complicated  for  his  impatient,  facile  grasp, 
and  the  yoimger  boy  has  taught  the  older  to  relax. 


Sunday  nights    at  6:30  EST,  on  NBC  Networlt  Stations. 


that  things  will  be  easier  if  he  doesn't  try  too  hard. 
From  the  mail  I  receive,  I'm  inclined  to  believe 
that  in  soine  families  the  children  suffer  from  com- 
parison with  one  another  instead  of  benefiting 
from  their  perfectly  natural  differences.  That 
seems  such  a  tragedy  when  it  is  possible  to  point 
out  that  each  human  being  excels  in  some  way. 
This  excellence  should  be  regarded  as  a  family 
possession  in  which  everyone  shares  and  from 
which  everyone  can  learn. 

Once  in  awhile,  one  of  oiu-  boys  develops  inter- 
est in  a  hobby  that  we  approve,  but  which  we 
simply  can't  gratify.  Two  years  ago  David  decided 
that  he  wanted  a  horse  for  Christmas.  His  closet 
was  loaded  with  full  cowboy  regalia,  and  he  had 
steeped  himself  in  the  Saturday  movies  at  The 
Hitching  Post  Theatre.  He  poured  over  magazines 
containing  pictures  of  and  stories  about  Gene 
Autry  or  Roy  Rogers,  and  he  could  recite  the  life 
of  Buffalo  Bill  backward.  His  favorite  comic  was 
Red  Ryder,  and  I  think  he  saw  "My  Friend  Flicka" 
half  a  dozen  times.  He  pawed  through  our  en- 
cyclopaedia to  learn  all  he  could  about  horses, 
and  confided  his  discoveries  to  us — at  length — at 
dinner  every  night.  He  had  it  bad. 

It's  easy  enough  to  tell  a  child  an  unexplained 
"no,"  but  we  have  made  it  a  practice  never  to  do 
it.    We  always  say,  "No,   (Continued  on  page  73) 


33 


Jack  is  his  own  carpenter,  plumber  and  handynitin.  finds  a 
jeep   useful  for  carting  the  tools  of  his  assorted  trades. 


The  Heart  to  Heart  Hookup  is 
more  to  Jack  Berch  than  a 
part  of  his  program— 
it  is  his  honest  philosophy  of  life 


■<v-.  *>i 


"^     i: 


f 


'Hj 


!•  .i  .  ,  ,  •HBJH* 


///^ 


Son  Jon,  and  Jon's  dog — now  dead,  but  not  lost  to  the 
boy — helped  Jack  understand  childhood's  viewpoint. 


A  song,  some  fun,  some  seriousness,  a  bountiful  help- 
ing of  good  fellowship — this  is  the  Jack  Berch  show. 


By  JACK  BERCH 


THE  TROUBLE  with  a  typewriter  is  that  it  can't  sing. 
It  can't  even  whistle.  Take  my  word  for  it,  the  type- 
writer will  never  replace  the  microphone. 
Perhaps  the  best  way  to  explain  myself — ^my  program, 
and  my  attitude  toward  life,  and  even  why  I  want  a 
whistling  typewriter — is  to  tell  you  why  I  like  to  start 
my  radio  show  each  morning  with  a  whistle  and  a  song. 
It  all  began  like  this: 

I  was  riding  into  town  one  morning  on  my  way  to  a 
broadcast.  In  company  with  a  few  milUon  other  com- 
muters, I  was  reading  the  morning  paper.  Suddenly  I 
reahzed  that  the  whole  front  page  was  full  of  disaster — 
fires,  murders,  political  troubles,  jealousy  and  strife 
between  persons  and  between  nations.  Leafing  through 
the  rest  of  the  paper,  I  discovered  that  most  of  the 
editorial  coltimns  were  filled  with  more  of  the  same. 
There  were  only  a  couple  of  stories,  and  those  very  short 
and  well-hidden,  that  dealt  with  nice  things,  friendly 
things — ^man's  humanity  to  man,  instead  of  his  in- 
humanity. 

"Now,"  I  said  to  myself,  "something  ought  to  be  done 
about  this.  And,  in  my  small  way,  I'm  the  guy  to  do  it." 
Then  and  there,  in  theory  at  least,  the  Heart  to  Heart 
Hookup  and  the  Good  Neighbor, Club  came  into  being. 
Very  shortly  they  were  practice,  not  theory.  And  those 
two  features  of  the  program  can  tell  you,  if  you  listen, 
exactly  the  way  I  feel  about  life,  and  exactly  the  way  I 
feel  about  what  a  radio  program  ought  to  give  the  people 


Singing  is,  in  the  Berch  fam- 
ily, a  friendly,  heart-warming  thing 
to  do — just  as  it  is  on  the 
Jack  Berch  Show,  heard  Monday 
through    Friday,    11:30    A.M., 
EST,  over  NBC  network  stations. 


who  listen  to  it.  FriendUness,  neighborliness,  the  spirit 
of  goodness  which  prompted  a  person  to  do  another  a 
good  turn — those  are  the  things  that  make  the  world  go 
'round  for  everyday  people  like  you  and  me.  Of  course, 
the  other  things  are  important,  too.  But  it's  the  every- 
day things  that  get  overlooked.  They  need,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  radio,  a  sponsor. 

So  I  elected  myself  sponsor  of  friendliness,  a  sort  of 
town  crier  for  the  small  good  deeds  that  are  likely  to 
pass  imnoticed.  I've  got  a  great  many  co-sponsors,  too — 
all  those  swell  people  who  send  in  their  letters  and  clip- 
pings for  the  Heart  to  Heart  Hookup  and  the  Good 
Neighbor  Club. 

Of  course,  there  are  other  parts  cf  the  program,  too. 
We  sing  a  little,  talk  a  little,  tell  a  few  jokes.  By  and 
large,  we  have  a  pretty  good  time,  the  boys  and  I. 

The  boys — ^I'd  better  tell  you  something  about  them. 
They  are,  believe  me,  tops  in  their  professions.  Eddie 
Dunn  is  the  announcer.  Besides  his  regular  chores  on 
the  show  he  has  the  self-imposed  one  of  trying  to  "break 
me  up" — ^make  me  laugh  in  the  middle  of  a  song,  that  is. 
A  good  portion  of  his  salary,  to  say  nothing  of  a  lot  of 
time  and  energy,  goes  into  this  project. 

Masks  and  funny  faces  are  his  particular  dehght.  There 
was  the  morning,, for  instance— how  could  I  forget  it? — 
when  he  slipped  a  set  of  Mortimer  Snerd  teeth  (the  kind 
that  come  down  over  your  lower  lip)  into  his  mouth,  and 
started  to  suck  on  a  lemon  just  as  I  was  singing  "Yours 
Is  My  Heart  Alone."  If  you  heard  that  particular  pro- 
gram, and  have  always  wondered  why  I  never  did  finish 
the  song,  there's  your  answer. 

I  remember— why  I  can  even  laugh  at  it,  now — ^what 
I  thought  at  the  time  was  the  low  point  of  my  career.  It 
was  a  day  early  last  summer,  when  the  Republican 
national  convention  was  in  progress.  Now  I'll  have  to 
admit  that  what  happened  was  (Continued  on  page  83) 


.?fi     ''. 


Although  the  apartment's  furnishing  is 
not  completed,  Spike  and  Helen  will  cheer- 
fully whip  up  brunch  for  company  any  day. 


Helen  and  Spike,  of 
course,  have  a  full 
collection  of  City 
Slicker  records.  He  is 
a  great,  if  somewhat 
devil-may-care,  help 
around    the   house. 


Spotlight  Revue 
ivith  Spike  Jones, 
the  City  Slickers, 
and  Dorothy  Shay, 
is  heard  every  Fri- 
day night,  10:30 
P.M.,  EST,  on  CBS. 


By  Helen  Greco  Jones 


1  SUPPOSE  you  think  being  married  to  Spike  Jones 
would  be  like  living  with  a  three-ring  circus.  I  can 
understand  that.  I  would  have  thought  so  myself  at 
one  time,  and  if  anyone  had  told  me  that  I,  Helen  Greco, 
a  quiet,  reasonable  girl  who  sang  soft,  sensible  music, 
would  end  up  as  Mrs.  Spike,  I  would  have  promptly 
told  them  they  had  whole,  notes  in  their  heads. 

That  was  until  I  met  him. 

To  my  utter  amazement  I  discovered  that  Spike  Jones, 
private  citizen,  is  as  different  from  Spike  Jones,  zany 
band  leader,  as  any  two  people  could  possibly  be.  He's 
all  the  things  you'd  never  dream  he  could  be  after 
listening  to  him  make  musical  mayhem  with  his  City 
Slickers.  He's  a  very  qiiiet  fellow.  Dignified,  compas- 
sionate and  thoughtful.   And  very  business-like. 

I  remember  how  surprised  I  was  to  find  this  out, 
because  when  I  first  went  to  see  him,  I  half  expected 
to  find  him  swinging  from  a  chandelier  waving  a  string 
of  cowbells.  But  it  wasn't  like  that  at  all. 

In  the  first  place,  I  never  dreamed  I'd  be,  the  kind 
of  singer  Spike  would  want.    (Continued  on  page  89) 


Marriage  to  Spike  Jones,  Helen  reports,  in  no  way  resembles  the  three-rin^  circus  you  mi^ht  Imagine 


36 


ii 


^lL<bining    Cyersonal   — ike   siori; 
V  oj    a  young    man    tcnose 
lije    teas   fylannecl—unitl 
lie    iried    io    buy    a    house  I 


1.  Doug  Fleming  protests  that  he  hasn't  time  to  go 
to  Pinesville  to  purchase  the  Kimball  house  for  his 
boss,  W.  D.  Bennett.  After  all,  in  three  days  Dong 
and  Flo,  Bennett's  secretary,  are  to  be  married.  But 
Bennett  insists,  and  Flo — knowing  that  Doug  is  the 
Bennett  heir,  but  that  wills  can  be  changed — sides 
with  their  employer.  At  last,  Doug  says  he  will  go. 


!ls  you  do  every  Wednesday  at  10: 30  P.M.J  EST, 
NBC  stations,  you'll  hear  on  December  15 

lie  familiar  invitation  to  "join  the  gay  throng 
at  Chicago's  Merchandise  Mart,"  That  inight. 
Curtain  Time  will  present  "Nothing  Personal," 
the  same'  story  told  here  in  pictures.  la  the 
pictures.  As  on  the  air,  Dong  Fleming  is  pjayed 
by  Harry  Elders;  Flo,  Margaret  Brayton;  W. 
rD.  Bennelt,  Arthur  Peterson;  Marcey,  Beverly 

Fonnger;    Cyrus   Kimball,   Art   Van   Harvey. 


4.  After  dinner,  a  walk  in  the  moonlight.  Marcey 
tells  Doug  about  the  house  and  that  grandfather 
will  get  out  his  shotgun  if  "those  low-down  back- 
stabbing  Bennetts  try  to  buy."  Ever  the  opportun- 
ist,  Doug   asks   her   to    sell   to   him   and   she   agrees. 


2.  Bennett  has  explained  that  the  Kimball  house  symbolizes 
all  that  he  missed  in  his  impoverished  childhood.  Because 
the  Kimballs  hate  him,  they  will  not  sell  directly  to  him. 
Doug  misses  his  train,  is  rescued  by  a  pretty  girl.  But 
he  tells  her  Pinesville  is  a  ceipetery,  says  he's  going  to 
pull  a  fast  deal  and  get  out.  He  can,  she  says,  get  out  now 
— and  walk.  She  loves  the  town  and  hates  city  smart  alecs. 


3.  Too  late,  Doug  learns  her  name — Marcey  Kimball.  In  des 
peration,  Doug  remembers  Bennett's  warning:  "no  house,  no 
job."  Flo,  he  is  sure,  shares  her  employer's  views.  What 
Flo  likes  best  about  Doug  is  Bennett's  money.  So  Doug  arms 
himiself  with  orchids  and  goes  to  call  on  Marcey.  Finally 
she  forgives  him.  Old  Cyrus  Kimball  invites  Doug  to  dinner, 
Things  seem  at  last,  Doug  tells  himself,  to  be  looking  up. 


5.  Doug  encounters  a  hitch  in  his  plans — ^in  the  form  of  Kimball's  shotgun.  A  bellhop  at  the  hotel,  it  seems,  has  informed  Cyrus  that 
Doug  works  for  Bennett.  Marcey  says  it's  not  true,  that  Doug  wants  the  house  for  himself,  and  the  old  man  points  out  that  it's  much 
too  large  for  a  single  man.  "But  I'm  planning  to  marry,"  Doug  explains — and  this  is  interpreted  as  a  proposal  to  Marcey,  who  accepts 
on  the  spot.   A  telephone  call  interrupts.   It  is  Flo,  who  says  that  she's  on  her  way  to  Pinesville.      "My  sister,"  Doug  tells  the  Kimballs. 


■^Q       L. 


:;n!W:*f»tt 


6.  At  the  hotel,  Flo  reserves  the  church  in  Doug's  name,  orders  the 
flowers.  Completes  her  plans  to  be  married  in  Pinesville.  Vainly,  Doug 
protests  that  there  is  something  he  must  tell  her.  In  love  now  with 
Marcey,  but  stiU  engaged  to  Flo,  Doug  reaUy  finds  himself  in  trouble. 


8.  Re-enter  Flo.  Marcey,  believing  her  to 
be  Doug's  sister,  invites  her  to  the  wed- 
ding. Indignantly,  Flo  explains  that  she 
is  the  one  who's  marrying  Doug — ^here  in 
Pinesville,  because  Doug  has  not  yet  com- 
pleted negotiations  for  the  house  he  is  , 


7.  Flo  leaves;  Marcey  comes  in.  Grandfather  Kimball  has  found  that 
the  church  is  reserved  for  Doug.  Though  surprised,  Marcey  promises  to 
be  ready.  A  call  tells  Doug  that  W.  D.  Bennett  is  in  the  lobby.  Asking 
Marcey  to  wait  a  moment,  Dong  races  downstairs  to  head  Bennett  off. 


40 


9.  Cyrus  Kimball  has  heard  that  Bennett  is  in  town,  learned  the  whole 
story.  Taking  his  shotgnn,  he  goes  hunting  for  Bennett  and  Doug.  The 
two  are  confronted  at  the  elevator,  but  as  Cyrus  fires,  Marcey  pushes 
him.    The  shot  goes  wild,  hitting  the  chandelier — which  falls  on  Doug. 


I 


buying  for  W.  D.  Bennett.  Marcey  an- 
nounces she'll  bum  the  house  before  shell 
let  Doug  buy  it  now.  When  Doug  and 
Bennett  return,  Flo  tells  them  what  Mar- 
cey has  said.  Bennett  fires  Doug.  Flo 
follows  his  lead,  breaking  the  engagement. 


10.  While  grandfather  takes  off  after  the  fleeing  Bennett,  Marcey  com- 
forts Doug.  Returning  to  find  his  granddaughter  holding  the  victim's 
head  and  announcing  to  all  and  sundry  that  they're  going  to  be  married 
at  once,  Cyrus  realizes  the  Kimballs  won  after  all,  gives  his  blessing. 


41 


I 


6.  At  the  hotel,  Flo  reserves  the  church  in  Doug's  name,  orders  the 
flowers,  completes  her  plans  to  be  married  in  Pinesville.  Vainly,  Dong 
protasis  that  there  is  something  he  must  tell  her.  In  love  now  with 
Marcey,  but  slill  engaged  to  Flo,  Doug  really  finds  himself  in  trouble. 


8.  Re-enter  Flo.  Marcey,  believing  her  to 
be  Doug's  sister,  invites  her  to  the  wed- 
ding. Indignantly,  Flo  explains  that  she 
is  the  one  who's  marrying  Doug — ^here  in 
Pinesville,  because  Doug  has  not  yet  com- 
pleted  negotiations  for  the   bouse  he  is 


7,  Flo  leaves;  Marcey  comes  in.  Grandfather  Kimball  has  found  that 
the  church  is  reserved  for  Doug.  Though  surprised,  Marcey  promises  to 
be  ready.  A  call  tells  Doug  that  W.  D.  Bennett  is  in  the  lobby.  Asking 
Marcey  to  wail  a  moment,  Doug  races  downstairs  to  head  Bennett  off. 


buying  for  W.  D,  Bennett.  Marcey  an- 
nounces she'll  burn  the  house  before  she'll 
let  Doug  buy  it  now.  When  Doug  and 
Bennett  return,  Flo  tells  them  what  Mar- 
''^y  has  said.  Bennett  fires  Doug,  Flo 
follows  his  lead,  breaking  the  engagement. 


;  ^''"'^  ^.'"''',''"  '','"  '•^"■•<'  """  ^'""'^"  i^  i"  >ow..,  lenrncd  .he  whole 
story.    Jak.ng  h,s  shotgun,  he  goes  huming  for  Be.mett  and  Doug.   The 

wo  are  confronted  m  the  elevn.or,  hut  a,,  CyruB  fires.  Maroey  pushes 
I.im.    Ihe  shot  goes  wild,  hitting  the  .handelicr-which  falls  on  Doug. 


10.  While  grandfather  takes  off  after  the  fleeing  Bennett,  Marcey  com- 
forts Doug.  Returning  to  find  his  granddaughter  holding  the  victim's 
head  and  announcing  to  all  and  sundry  that  they're  going  to  be  married 
at  once,  Cyrus  realizes  the  Kiraballs  won  after  all,  gives  his  blessing. 


Hello  There: 

Every  time  a  new  year  turns  the  cor- 
ner .  .  . 

we  try  to  make  certain  resolutions  . . . 

Some  of  them  toe  may  have  made  be- 
fore ,  .  .  Mwy  back  there  .  .  . 

and  didn't  keep. 

Some  are  brand  new,  like  every  new 
day. 

But  I  guess  the  year  or  the  day 
doesn't  matter  much 

as  long  as  there  is  at  least  one  worth- 
while resolution  to  make 

every  time  the  clock  strikes  midnight 
on  a  new  beginning. 

The  .best  resolution  I  know  of 

was  made  thousands  of  years  ago  — 

and  is  so  ancient  you  may  think  it  as 
worn  out 

as  the  cover  of  the  book  it  came 
from  ... 

but  it  needs  no  brand  new  date  to 
make  it  worth  our  while. 

If  we  resolve  to  DO  UNTO  OTHERS 
AS  WE  WOULD  HAVE  THEM 
DO  UNTO  US 

we  have  begun  the  year  with  the 
clearest  of  high  hopes 

for  the  future. 

— Ted  Malone. 


UNTO  THE  HEART 

A  ghost  can  be  a  little  thing  .  .  . 
Like   a    tennis   racquet   without   a 
.  string, 

A  cigarette  case,  a  pair  of  glasses. 
An  old  brown  hat,  two  season 
passes. 

A  ghost  can  be  a  tender  thing  .  .  . 
'Like  baby  hands  too  small  to  cling. 
An   old  love  letter,   lines   from   a 

book. 
Words  to  a   song,  a   remembered 

look.  ' 

A  ghost  can  be  a  silent  thing  .  .  . 
Like    a    telephone    that    does    not 

ring  .  .  . 
Books  on  a  shelf,  an  easy  chair. 
Guns  on  the  wall,  suits  pressed  to 

wear. 

A  ghost  can  be  a  welcome  thing  . .  . 
Like  memories  a  moonlit  night  can 

bring, 
A  picture's  smile,  a  dream  that  is 

wanted. 
The  kiss  of  a  child— (MY  HOUSE 

IS  HAUNTED!) 

— Robbie  L.  Donaldson 


END  OF  THE  BOOK 

LKe's  pap«p-cov*r*d  novel 
May  pall  a  bH  with  age — 

Bui  oh,  I  shall  be  »orry 
To  hirn  the  final  page. 

— L.  R.  Und 


TO  A  CALENDAR 

You  have  no  power  over  winds  nor  xain. 
Nor  snow  upon  the  evergreens,  nor  sleet. 
And  yet  we  turn  a  page,  and  think,  "Now 

sweet 
The  zephyrs  oi  the  spring  will  blow  again," 
Or   "Summer   goes,    here,   in   a   blaze   oi 

glory," 
Or  "This  will  be  a  sombre  time  at  best," 
And  we  take  care  to  turn  you  carefully, 

lest 
The  year  be  interrupted  in  her  story. 

But  have  I  not  known  chillest  winds  to 

blow 
Through  warmth,  and  found,  in  laughter 

oi  a  child. 
Spring  in  November's  gray?  Do  I  not  know 
Peace  oi  an  autunm  night  can  bloom  in 

wild 
Snow-storms,  and  have  I  not  perceived  the 

glow 
Of  summer  in  me,  whenever  he  has  smiled? 
— Elaine  V.  Emans 


THE  MIRROR  IS  YOURSELF 

There  is  a  time  when,  nothing  said  at  all, 
AH  words  are  possible — no  action  made. 
All  choice  is  ours;  whatever  course  we  call, 
We  dare  to  follow  on  it  unafraid. 
But  every  choosing  points  the  newer  one — 
The  north  leads  farther  north  with  every 

day. 
The  south  leans  ever  closer  to  the  sun — 
We  speak  tomorrow's  thought  with  all  we 

say. 

In  vain  we  ask  the  mirror  not  to  note 
The   choices   post   which   lend   the  future 

fear — 
To   smooth   each  line   of   record   that  we 

wrote 
Day  by  swift  day,  slow  year  by  crawling 

year. 
Now,  all  our  thoughts  made  visible  at  last. 
We  are  our  future,  we  ourselves  our  post. 
— ^Virginia  Scott  Miner 


1 


GROWTH 

I'm  growing  older,  there's  no  doubt. 
And  furthermore,  I'm  growing  stout. 
But  luckily  for  my  peace  of  mind, 
I'm  growing  wiser  and  resigned! 

— Thomas  Usk 


PRAYER  FOR  THE 
ESSENTIAL 

Give  every  man  his  dream — and 

let  it  be 
His  star   to   guide  through   vast 

immensity 
Of  doubt  and  shadow;  light  to 

penetrate 
The  gloom  dark  circumstance 

may  well  create; 
A  gleam  rekindling  hope's  sweet 

sorcery. 

The  dream  will  be  for  each  the 

magic  key 
To    liberate    him    from    life's 

tyranny. 
To  swing  for  him  enchantment's 

jewelled  gate — 

Give   every  man   his   dream. 

Having  his  dream  for  open-sesame 
To  Happy  Isles,  let  each  go  fear- 
lessly 
With    banner   high    and    faith 

inviolate  .  .  . 
That  we  have  private  courage 
for  his  fate 
Nor    fall    before    each    new    in- 
clemency, 

Give  every  man  his  dream. 
— B.  Y.  WilUams  ' 


IT'S  NICE  TO  FEFL  N ICE- 
ABOUT  NOTHING 

There  is  no  sun — in  fact,  it's  snowing! 
I've  no  idea  where  I'm  going 
To  spend  the  day;  it's  only  Monday, 
And  nothing  special  happened  Sun- 
day, 
And  yet  I  feel  a  strange  elation — 
As  if  I'd  had  an  invitation 
To  someone's  wedding,  or  a  shower. 
And  this  is  growing  by  the  hour. 
There   is   no   reason   for   it — really! 
My  baked  potato  wasn't  mealy; 
My  favorite  fruit  is  out  of  season. 
But  if"  the  world  must  have  a  reason, 
Say  of  my  beautiful  Sensation, 
That,  though  it  has  no  real  founda- 
tion, 
I   most  emphatically  endorse  it. 
And,  were  it  law,  I  should  enforce  it. 
And,  were  it  not,  I'd  still  adore  it 
Because  there  is  no  reason  for  it. 
— Faye  Chilcote  Walker 


HILL  CALL 

Radio  Mirror's  Prize  Poem 

I  would  go  back  le  the  dreaming  hillc 

And  the  fields  below 
When  the  land  is  hushed  and  the  valley  fills 

With  the  drifted  snow, 
Birf  my  i/ioes  ore  Vightur  than  f/mse  I  wore 
When  I  c/unbed  tfie  Uontrcf ed  hi//t  before. 

I  would  go  bock  when  the  spring  awakes. 

As  the  heart  has  planned. 
For  the  river  thaws  and  the  green  blade  breaks 

Through  the  wailing  land, 
Birf  my  gown  h  (jg/ifer  fhan  one  I  wore 
Wimn  I  crossed  awakening  streams  before. 

I  would  go  back  to  the  summer  hills 

Where  the  skylarks  nest. 
For  the  daisies  blow  by  the  languid  rills 

And  the  land  is  blessed, 
Bvf  my  skirt  is  fonger  than  when  I  came 
Throogh  the  clover  Held  and  the  sfonebed  lane. 

I  would  return  to  the  amber  hills 

With  the  autumn  breeze. 
For  the  fields  are  poled  as  the  color  spills 

Through  the  sunloved  trees. 
But  the  wind  would  tang/e  my  lacquered  hair, 
For  the  braids  were  cut  that  I  used  to  wear, 
As  the  ties  were  cut  when  the  land  was  sold. 
I  would  go  back,  but  the  heart  is  old. 

— Pegasus  Buchanan 


RADIO  MIRROR  wiii pa^  flft^  doiLi-s 

for  the  best  original  poem  sent  in  each  month  by  a  reader.  Five  dollars  will  be  paid  for 
each  other  original  poem  used  on  dae  Between  the  Bookends  pages  in  Radio  Mirror. 
Limit  poems  to  30  lines,  and  address  to  Ted  Malone,  Radio  Mirror,  205  E.  42,  N.  Y.  17, 
N.  Y.  When  postage  is  enclosed,  every  effort  will  be  made  to  return  unused  manuscripts. 
This   is   not  a  contest,   but  an  offer  to  purchase  poetry   for  our   Bookends   pages. 


Be  Bare  to  listen  to  Ted  Malone's 
morning  program,  Monday  through 
Friday    at    11:30    EST,    over    ABC. 


r^ 


Hello  There: 

Every  time  a  new  year  turns  the  cor- 
ner .  .  . 

we  try  to  make  certain  resolutions  . . . 

Some  of  them  toe  may  have  made  be- 
fore .  .  .  ivay  back  there  .  .  . 

and  didn't  keep. 

Some  are  brand  new,  like  every  new 
day. 

But  I  guess  the  year  or  the  day 
doesn*t  matter  much 

as  long  as  there  is  at  least  one  worth- 
while resolution  to  make 

every  time  the  clock  strikes  midniglu 
on  a  new  beginning. 

The  best  rejiolution  I  know  of 

tvas  made  thousands  of  years  ago  . . . 

and  is  so  ancient  you  may  think  it  as 
worn  out 

as  the  cover  of  the  book  it  came 
from  ... 

but  it  needs  no  brand  new  date  to 
make  it  ivorth  our  while. 

If  we  resolve  to  DO  UNTO  OTHERS 
AS  WE  WOULD  HAVE  THEM 
DO  UNTO  US 

tve  have  begun  the  year  with  the 
clearest  of  high  hopes 

for  the  future. 

— Ted  Malone. 


UNTO  THE  HEART 

A  ghost  can  be  a  little  thing  .  .  . 
Like   a   tennis   racquet    without   a 
.  string, 

A  cigarette  case,  a  pair  of  glasses, 
An  old  brown  hat,  two  season 
passes. 

A  ghost  can  be  a  tender  thing  .  .  . 
'Like  baby  hands  too  small  to  cling, 
An   old  love  letter,  lines   from   a 

book. 
Words   to  a   song,  a   remembered 

look. 

A  ghost  can  be  a  silent  thing  .  .  . 
Like    a    telephone    that    does    not 

ring  .  .  . 
Books  on  a  shelf,  an  easy  chair. 
Guns  on  the  wall,  suits  pressed  to 

wear. 

A  ghost  can  be  a  welcome  thing  .  .  . 
Like  memories  a  moonlit  night  can 

bring, 
A  picture^s  smile,  a  dream  that  is 

wanted. 
The  kiss  of  a  child— (MY  HOUSE 

IS  HAUNTED!) 

— Robbie  L.  Donaldson 


END  OF  THE  BOOK 

Llfe*spap«rwcover«d  novel 
May  pall  a  bit  with  age — 

Bui  oh,  I  sholl  be  sony 
To  turn  the  final  page. 

—I.  R.  Und 


TO  A  CALENDAR 

You  have  no  power  over  winds  nor  zain. 
Nor  snow  upon  the  evergreens,  nor  sleet. 
And  yet  we  turn  a  page,  and  think,  "Now 

sweet 
The  zephyrs  of  the  spring  will  blow  again," 
Or   "Summer   goes,   here,   in   a  blaze   of 

glory," 
Or  "This  will  be  a  sombre  time  at  best/' 
And  we  take  core  to  turn  you  carefully, 

lest 
The  year  be  interrupted  in  her  story. 

But  have  I  not  known  chillest  winds  io 

blow 
Through  warmth,  and  found,  in  laughter 

of  a  child. 
Spring  in  November's  gray?  Do  I  not  know 
Peace  of  an  autumn  night  can  bloom  in 

wild 
Snow-storms,  and  hove  I  not  perceived  the 

glow 
Of  summer  in  me,  whenever  he  has  smiled? 
— Elaine  V.  Emans 


THE  MIRROR  IS  YOURSELF 

There  is  a  time  when,  nothing  soid  at  all. 
All  words  are  possible — no  action  made. 
All  choice  is  ours;  whatever  coiuse  we  call. 
We  dare  to  follow  on  it  unaircdd. 
But  every  choosing  points  the  newer  one — 
The  nortii  leads  farther  north  with  every 

day. 
The  south  leans  ever  closer  to  the  sun — 
We  speak  tomorrow's  thought  with  all  we 

say. 

In  vain  we  ask  the  mirror  not  to  note 
The   choices   past   which   lend   the  future 

fear — 
To   smooth   each  line   of   record   that   we 

wrote 
Day  by  swift  day,  slow  year  by  crawling 

year. 
Now,  all  our  thoughts  made  visible  at  last. 
We  are  our  future,  we  ourselves  our  past. 
— Virginia  Scott  Miner 


GROWTH 

I'm  growing  older,  there's  no  doubt. 
And  furthermore,  I'm  growing  stout. 
But  luckily  for  my  peace  of  mind, 
I'm  growing  wiser  and  resignedl 

— Thomas  Usk 


PRAYER  FOR  THE 
ESSENTIAL 

Give  every  man  his  dream — and 

let  it  be 
His  star   to   guide   through   vast 

immensity 
Of  doubt  and  shadow ;  light  to 

penetrate 
The  gloom  dark  circumstance 

may  well  create; 
A  gleam  rekindling  hope's  sweet 

sorcery. 

The  dream  will  be  for  each  the 

magic  key 
To    liberate    him    from    life's 

tyranny, 
To  swing  for  him  enchantment's 

jewelled  gate — 

Give  every  man   his   dream. 

Having  his  dream  for  open-sesame 
To  Happy  Isles,  let  each  go  fear- 
lessly 
With    banner   high    and    faith 

inviolate  .  .  , 
7hat  we  have  private  courage 
for  his  fate 
■  or    fall    before    each    new    in- 
clemency, 

Give   every  man  his  dream. 
i-B.  Y.  Williams 


IT'S  NICE  TO  FEFL  NICE- 
ABOUT  NOTHING 

There  is  no  sun— in  fact,  it's  snowing ! 
1  ve  no  idea  where  I'm  going 
lo  spend  the  day;  it's  only  Monday, 
And  nothing  special  happened  Sun- 
day, 

i"  v'lfj  ,'  '?^'  "  ^'""8«  elation- 
As  11  1  d  had  an  invitation 

To  someone's  wedding,  or  a  shower. 
And  this  is  growing  by  the  hour. 

'""«  ,'S   no   reason   for   it— really  l 
VJ"  ,^°  P"'"'"  w«S"''  mealy; 
My  favorite  fruit   is  out  of  season. 
But  il-the  world  must  have  a  reason, 
Say  of  my  beautiful  sensation, 

Ihat,  though  it  has  no  real  founda- 
tion, 
I  most  emphatically  endorse  it. 
And,  were  it  law,  I  should  enforce  it 
And,  were  it  not,  I'd  still  adore  it 
Because  there  is  no  reason  for  it. 
— Faye  Chilcote  Walker 


HILL  CALL 

Radio  Mlnror's  Prize  Poem 

I  would  go  iMck  to  the  dreaming  hlllt 

And  the  Aelds  below 
When  the  land  1%  huihed  and  Ihe  valley  fllli 

With  Ihe  drifted  mow, 
Bm  my  •(»..  are  //steer  fliaii  tliaie  I  wore 
Wke»  I  c/imked  Ik.  blmkttKl  hiiU  iiefere. 

I  would  go  back  when  Ihe  ipring  awaket, 

Ai  Ihe  heart  hai  planned. 
For  Ihe  river  thaw>  and  Ihe  green  blade  breaks 

Through  Ihe  walling  land, 
Sifl  my  gown  h  ffg/iler  llran  one  I  wore 
Wken  I  croKed  awolening  >lream>  before. 

I  would  go  back  lo  Ihe  lummtr  hllU 

Where  Hie  ikylarki  neil. 
For  the  daiilei  blow  by  Ihe  languid  rllli 

And  Ihe  land  It  bleMed, 
Sul  my  skirl  »  fong.r  Ihan  wfieo  I  came 
ftroug/i  iIm  c/over  Ae/d  and  Ik*  ifonebecf  fane. 

I  would  return  lo  Ihe  amber  hllli 

With  Ihe  autumn  breeie, 
For  Ihe  fleldt  are  paled  ai  Ihe  color  apllU 

Through  Ihe  lunloved  trees, 
Bui  llie  wind  weufd  fangfe  my  lacquered  /Wr, 
For  file  broidi  were  cut  (kof  I  uied  lo  wear, 
Af  (lie  Mei  were  cut  when  Ike  land  wot  told. 
I  would  go  back,  bul  the  heart  It  old. 

— Pegaiui  Buchonon 


RADIO  MIRROR    wiii pa^  (i(i^  doitar^ 

for  the  best  original  poem  sent  in  each  month  by  a  reader.  Five  dollars  will  be  paid  for 
each  other  original  poem  used  on  the  Between  the  Bookends  pages  in  Radio  Mirror. 
Limit  poems  to  30  lines,  and  address  to  Ted  Malone,  Radio  Mirror,  205  E.  42,  N.  Y.  17, 
N.  Y.  -When  postage  is  enclosed,  every  effort  will  be  made  to  return  unused  manuscripts. 
This   is    not  a  contest,   but  an  offer   to  purchase  poetry   for  our    Bookends   pages. 


Be  sore  to  listen  to  Ted  Malone's 
morning  program,  Monday  through 
Friday    al    11:30    EST,    over    ABC. 


D 


A 


IL-TV 


Jack  Steck  is  the  video  "operator"  of  WFIL-TV's  Swap 
Shop,  on  which  lookers-in  can  trade  things  they  don't 
want  for  things  they  do.  The  little  girl  with  an  embar- 
rassment of  puppies  will  keep  one,  swap  the  remainder. 


With  the  advent  of  television,  the  old-time  "kiddie  revne" 
has  come  back  into  its  own,  oCPeriug  a  showcase  for  yoang 
talent.  WFIL-TV's  Starlet  Stairway  presents  juvenile  en- 
tertainers to  the  viewing  audience  once  a  week,  Tuesdays. 


i 


W 


ITH  well  over  60,000  sets  in  operation,  Philadel- 
phia is  the  number  two  television  town  in  the 
country. 


The  three  stations  carry  programs  from  the  four 
video  networks,  plus  clever  and  vigorous  local  pro- 
gramming. WFIL-TV  is  owned  by  The  Philadelphia 
Inquirer,  WCAU-TV  is  owned  by  The  Philadelphia 
Bulletin,  and  station  WPTZ  is  owned  by  Philco,  so  it 
is  not  too  surprising  that  the  Quaker  City  is  very 
Tv  conscious. 

They  have  more  advertisers  by  actual  cotmt  than 
any  other  video  station  in  the  country;  some  of 
them  are  small  accounts  that's  true,  but  it's  a  healthy 
sign. 

WPTZ  was  experimenting  with  television  ten  years 
ago  and  got  its  commercial  Ucense  in  1940,  making  it 
one  of  the  oldest  Tv  stations  in  existence.  They  tele- 
vised the  1940  conventions  in  Philadelphia  and  re- 
layed pictures  to  New  York,  but  since  the  television 
sets  at  that  time  numbered  only  a  few  hundred  not 
many  people  saw  Willkie  and  Roosevelt  in  their 
video  debuts. 


WCAU-TV  has  been  going  less  than  a  year,  but 
has  made  remarkable  progress.  They  have  been 
doing  a  very  popular  show  in  the  early  afternoon 
for  several  months,  so  they  are  out  front  in  the 
Philadelphia  field  as  far  as  daytime  video  is  con- 
cerned. 

WFIL-TV  has  pulled  a  very  neat  trick.  They 
bought  their  own  sport  arena — stage  fights  and  other 
.events  for  live  as  well  as  Tv  audiences.  If  the  Tv 
rights  to  sporting  events  keep  climbing,  who  knows 
how  many  Tv  stations  wUl  follow  their  lead? 

On  this  and  the  opposite  page  are  pictures,  two 
for  each  of  the  three  Philadelphia  television  sta- 
tions now  in  operation,  of  outstanding  programs  of 
"looking-in"  fare  that  the  city  offers  owners  of  Tv 
sets  in  the  area. 

There  are,  of  course,  many  othei's  on  each  of  the 
stations.  Some  of  these  programs  are  carry-overs 
from  radio,  which  are  gaining  even  wider  audiences 
now  that  they  can  be  seen  as  well  as  heard.  Others 
are  brand  new  shows  designed  specifically  for  the 
newer  mediimi. 


RADIO 


MIRROR 


TELEVISION 


SECTION 


V 


WCAU 


Dr.  Armand  Spitz  is  a  man  who  not  only  talks  about  the 
weather  but  does  everything  about  it  that  is  in  his  power 
to  do.  Using  authentic  weather  instruments,  he  has  a 
large  foUowing  for  his  predictions  each  night,  WCAU-TV. 


"Uncle  Wip"  is  a  favorite  with  Philadelphia  youngsters — 
those  who  watch  and  those  who  participate  in  his  popu- 
lar program  for  children.  He  and  his  small  fry  talent 
are  heard  three  times  a  week,  at  6  P.M.,  over  WCAU-TV. 


Ted  Steele,  for  many  years  a  favorite  with  listeners, 
can  now  be  seen  as  well  as  heard  in  Philadelphia.  He 
brings  his  one-man  show  of  music  and  fun  to  the  viewing 
audience  of  "WPTZ  twice  a  week.  It's  called  Piano  Patter. 


WPTZ 


MAN 


^ 


WPTZ's  Jack  Creamer — ^the  Handy  Man — ^has  the  oldest 
commercial  television  program.  Jack  is  a  radio  old-timer, 
now  brings  to  viewers,  too,  his  household  hints  and  gadget 
demonstratons,  with  the  assistance  of  pretty  Carol  Reed. 


45 


O^MWijd&i,  1^11 


JOHN  HOWARD  is  well  known  to  evei-y  movie  fan 
as  the  handsome  leading  man  of  some  fifty-four 
motion  pictures,  and  he  made  millions  of  radio  friends 
when  he  created  the  charming  Dr.  Leslie  Foster  in  the 
serial  Those  We  Love.  Now  John  has  combined  his 
movie  and  radio  techniques,  thrown  in  his  stage  expe- 
rience, and  emerges  as  the  first  top -flight  star  to  do  an 
important  television  series. 

He  will  soon  be  coming  in  over  the  nation's  television 
receivers  as  video's  first  two-fisted  serial  hero.  He  has 
recently  completed  the  first  twenty-six  films  in  the 
Public  Prosecutor  series  for  Jerry  Fairbanks  and  NBC 
Television. 

Public  Prosecutor  is  one  of  the  most  discussed  (and 
most  expensive)  deals  in  Tv  history,  and  is  the  first 
whodunit  to  be  written,  directed,  enacted  and  photo- 
graphed especially  for  television.  Howard,  playing  the 
title  role,  engages  in  gun  battles,  cracks  fists  with  under- 
world thugs,  stalks  clever  criminals,  fights  his  way  out 
of  death  traps  and  even  tussles  with  savage  lions  in  one 
episode.  His  weekly  encotmters  with  danger  almost 
equal  those  of  the  early  movie  serial  kings  and  queens. 

Many  of  his  fellow  actors  and  actresses  in  Hollywood 
have  been  cornering  John  to  find  out  just  how  acting 
techniques  for  television  differ  from  those  used  for  the 
stage  and  motion  pictures.  Since  John  is  not  only  an 
accomplished  actor,  but  also  a  Phi  Beta  Kappa,  who 
was  voted  the  most  outstanding  student  in  his  class 
when  he  graduated  Magna  Cum  Laude  from  Western 
Reserve  University  in  1934,  he  is  able  to  give  a  thorough- 


going analysis  of  the  points  of  likeness  and  difference. 

"The  first  thing  that  must  be  said,"  John  points  out, 
"is  that  television  acting  is  a  combination  of  stage,  screen 
and  radio  acting."  That  has  been  said  before,  but  John 
can  explain  in  interesting  detail:  "Video  long  shots,  for 
instance,  require  the  broad  acting  of  the  legitimate  stage, 
otherwise  facial  and  body  expressions  would  be  lost 
entirely  on  the  small  Tv  screens.  Close-ups,  on  the 
other  hand,  demand  the  underacting  of  the  cinema." 

John  was  amazed  at  first  because  the  stage  sets  used 
for  television  are  so  small.  This  is  also  due  to  the  small 
size  of  the  video  screen — there  must  be  a  close  grouping 
of  the  actors.  This  fact,  he  says,  is  one  of  the  most 
difficult  aspects  of  acting  in  Tv  films. 

"I  had  been  accustomed  to  the  large  stage  sets  and 
the  spacious  motion  picture  sets,  where  you  have  plenty 
of  room  to  roam  about  and  plenty  of  space  for  mad 
gesturing.  I  suddenly  found  myself  acting  in  what 
seemed  to  be  a  two-by-four  box.  At  first  I  felt  ham- 
pered but  gradually  adapted  my  movements  and  ges- 
tures to  the  tiny  area." 

The  camera  takes  on  added  importance  in  television 
John  finds.  The  video  film  actor  does  not  move  about 
as  much  as  the  motion  picture  or  stage  actor — due  again 
to  the  small  screen.  In  Tv  films  the  camera  is  moved 
about  and  this  gives  the  viewer  the  feeling  he  is  seeing 
more  action  than  is  actually  photographed. 

"In  PubUc  Prosecutor,"  he  explained,  "we  used  the 
stage  technique  of  talking  directly  to  the  audience.  The 
camera  was  our  audience.  This  (Continued  on  page  74) 


n 


46 


RADIO        MIRROR 


*5^' 


V 


VS  ^tf ■/ 


^ 


Sonja  Henie  and  skating  partner 
talk  to  Danton  Walker;  Doris 
Brown,  narrator  on  Lucky  Pup. 


^«r 


^i 


J 


Tops  in  their  fields,  eager  to  learn  about  the  new  medium:  Lee  Bowman, 
Leon  Ames,  George  Chandler,  William  Holden,  Walter  Pidgeon,  Walter  Abel, 
get  instructions  from  James  Pollack,  director  of  WPIX's  film  department. 


\         \ 


DUMONT'S  New  York  outlet, 
WABD,  started  the  ball 
rolling  on  full-scale  day- 
time television  by  scheduling 
fifteen  hours  of  telecasting  each 
day.  Commander  Mortimer 
Loewi,  executive  assistant  to 
Dr.  Dumont,  said  when  making 
the  announcement:  "It  is  ridic- 
ulous for  television  broadcasters 
to  ignore  the  women  in  the 
home  who  want  news,  informa- 
tion and  entertainment,  and  to 
deprive  them  of  the  opportunity 
to  use  their-  television  sets  dur- 
ing the  day." 

.The  daytime  operation  is  pri- 
marily instruction  —  programs 
dedicated  to  sewing,  cooking, 
shopping-  and  baby  tending.  Of 
course,  big  sports  events  are  still 
carried.  Although  they  realize 
at  Dtimont  that  no  woman  can 
sit  and  watch  her  video  set  all 
day,  when  she  does  have  some 
leisure,  there  is  always  some- 
thing worthwhile  for  her  to  see. 
The  programs  are  worked  out 
in  a  way  that  makes  them  in- 
teresting to  listen  to  without 
seeing  the  screen;  the  housewife 
can  be  off  doing  some  chore  and 
still  be  able  to  follow  the  pro- 
grams {Continued  on  -page  85) 


Funny  man  Joe  E.  Brown   guests   on  Du- 
mont's  Zero  Mostel-Joey  Faye  Tuesday  show. 


tiS& 


E    V    I    S    I    0    N 


S    E    C    T    I 


47 


mm. 


By   TOMMY   BARTLETT 


Monday  tlirough  Friday  at  12  i 


EST.  on  ABf: 


A  BLINDED  Navy  veteran  marrying  the  girl  he  loved, 
other  sightless  ex-servicemen  from  all  over  the 
country  sending  along  their  congratulations  on  tape 
recordings,  a  middle-aged  couple  from  Philadelphia 
weeping  quietly  through  the  ceremony — those  are  the 
things  that  touch  the  heart  in  this  story  about  our 
Travelers  of  the  Month. 

Our  travelers  were  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Russell  Thiel,  of  2542 
Cleveland  Ave.,  Philadelphia.  The  bUnd  boy  is  Edward 
Rankin,  Jr.,  of  4253  W.  21st  St.,  Chicago.  And  the  story 
that  the  Thiels  told  us  about  Rankin  and  aU  of  those 
other  blind  young  men  is  one  of  the  most  inspiring 
reports  ever  presented  at  our  Welcome  Travelers  party. 
First,  I'd  like  to  describe  the  Thiels  as  they  appeared 
to  me  when  they  stepped  up  to  our  ABC  microphone 


Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thiel  might  be  anyone's  Mom 
and  Dad.  Prompted  by  the  goodness  of  their 
hearts,   they   turned    out   to   be   everyone's ! 


\ 


^ 


rv,*i 


at  the  Hotel  Sherman,  Chicago.  Mr.  Thiel  is  tall,  slightly 
grayed — a  construction  foreman  who  needs  nobody's 
help  in  taking  care  of  himself  and  his  family.  Mrs.  Thiel 
is  a  large,  motherly  woman,  with  a  broad  Eastern  accent. 
Real  people,  the  Thiels.  Warm-hearted,  simple,  down 
to  earth. 

When  I  asked  the  Thiels  why  they  were  traveling, 
Mr.  Thiel  said:  "We're  here  to  attend  the  wedding  of 
an  ex-sailor.  He's  blind,  and  we're  very  happy  about 
the  wedding." 

I  wondered  if  the  bride,  too,  was  blind,  and  asked  this 
natural  question. 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Mrs.  Thiel.  "What's  more,  the  boy 
leads  a  perfectly  normal  life.  He  has  a  job,  he  travels 
by  himself  and  gets  a  big  kick  out  of  life." 

Then  the  Thiels  started  telling  our  Welcome  Travelers 
radio  party  the  story  of  Ed  Rankin — and  forty  or  fifty 
other  Ed  Rankins.  It  seemed  that  Rankin  was  one  of 
a  large  number  of  blind  veterans  who  have  visited  the 
modest  Thiel  home  since  1945. 

The  boys  have  been  coming  for  Sunday  dinners,  for 
weekends,  for  one-month  stays  and  even,  in  one  case, 
as  a  permanent  guest.  With  only  three  bedrooms,  the 
Thiels  have,  on  some  w^eekends,  put  up  as  many  as 
twenty  young  men.  With  only  Mrs.  Thiel  doing  the 
cooking,  there  have  been  meals  in  three  shifts  over  a 
three-day  span. 

The  Thiels  didn't  volunteer  this,  but  I  found  out  that 
they've  paid  for  this  entire  hospitality  program  them- 
selves. It  includes  gifts  at  Christmas,  big  night  club 
and  ball  game  parties,  and  long  distance  phone  calls  to 
find  out  how  some  of  the  boys,  who  have  been  released 
from  the  Philadelphia  Naval  Hospital,  are  getting  along. 

Ed  Rankin  was  one  of  them — a  kid  from  Chicago  who 
got  the  Big  Blackout  one  day  in  the  Pacific  when  his 
own  gim  blew  up  in  his  face.  One  of  their  boys,  who  was 
back  out  in  the  world  now,  and  getting  married.  And 
the  Thiels  didn't  think  it  was  at  all  unusual  that  they 
would  travel  one-third  of  the  way  across  the  country 
to  be  at  his  wedding. 

I  couldn't  help  thinking  how  wonderful  it  was  that 
those  sightless,  hospitalized  veterans  had,  somehow,  run 
into  as  fine  a  couple  as  the  Thiels.  I  asked  how  they 
had  started  their  grand  work. 

"It  happened  sort  of  fxmny,"  Mrs.  Thiel  said.  "Just  an 
accidental  meeting  that  gave  real  purpose  to  our  lives. 
We  were  going  fishing  one  day,  and  three  young  men 
along  the  road  had  their  thumbs  up.  They  wanted  a 
lift  to  the  Naval  Hospital.    They  were  in  our  car  for 


some  time  before  we  realized  they  were  blind." 

Mr.  Thiel  took  up  the  story. 

"When  we  let  the  boys  off,  we  invited  them  around 
to  our  house  for  Svmday  dinner.  We  told  them  to  bring 
a  few  friends.  That's  how  the  whole  thing  started. 
Those  friends  brought  other  friends,  and  the  whole 
process  was  repeated  time  and  time  again.  Soon,  our 
home  didn't  seem  natural  without  some  of  the  boys 
arovmd." 

Who  were  these  young  men?  Boys  of  all  faiths,  of  all 
places  in  the  social  scheme.  Also,  in  some  cases,  boys 
with  horribly  maimed  faces,  and  with  a  fear  of  going 
home. 

"You  see,"  Mrs.  Thiel  said,  "we  treat  them  rough.  If 
they  want  something,  we  say,  'Go  and  get  it.  You're  a 
big  boy.'  In  their  own  homes,  their  famiUes  sometimes 
pamper  them,  make  them  feel  helpless.  I  guess  they  like 
the  free  and  easy  atmosphere  at  our  house." 

What  goes  on  at  the  Thiel  home?  Well,  there's  a 
Braille  card  deck,  a  radio,  lots  of  home-cooked  food. 
But  mostly,  there's  a  place  where  a  kind,  considerate 
family  is  getting  a  kick  out  of  life — a  contagious  feeling. 

Quite  often,  couples  who  give  themselves  so  freely 
to  such  young  men  are  people  without  children,  people 
trying  to  fill  a  void  in  their  own  lives  and  to  find  an 
outlet  for  lots  of  stored-up  love. 

The  Thiels,  in  contrast,  have  three  children  of  their 
own:  Francis,  fifteen;  Donald,  thirteen;  Peggy,  seven- 
teen. The  Thiel  yotmgsters  pitch  in  on  the  party,  escort- 
ing their  sightless  friends  to  ball  games,  taking  them  on 
long  walks,  calling  for  them  at  the  hospital. 

The  Thiel  kids  have  known  quiet  suffering,  and  they've 
seen  great  big  doubts  hidden  behind  the  grin  of  a  boy 
from  Tennessee,  the  laugh  of  a  lad  from  Virginia.  Also, 
though,  they've  seen  their  parents  get  great  joy  from 
making  these  yovmg  men  happy.  And  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Thiel  feel  that  their  children  are  being  well  prepared 
for  life. 

As  the  boys  leave  the  hospital  and  return  to  civilian 
life,  their  contact  with  "Mom  and  Dad"  Thiel  remains 
imbroken.  They  phone  often,  and  Mrs.  Thiel  says,  "On 
Mother's  Day  my  parlor  is  like  a  florist's  shop." 

There's  another  way  that  the  boys  and  the  Thiels  keep 
in  touch  with  each  other.  They  do  it  by  "talking  a 
letter"  on  a  wire  recorder.  The  tape  is  passed  arovmd 
the  country,  like  a  chain  letter,  and,  in  a  sense,  the 
whole  gang  from  the  Thiel  house  is  still  together. 

One  person  who  did  a  lot  of  thinking  when  he  got 
those  talking  letters   was   a    {Continued   on  page  79) 


)^w  t^/i^^Jii^ 


Nothing,  even  happiness,  comes  easily — like  all  things  worth  having,  it  must  be  fought  for,  and  won 


1.  At  last  Connie  Wakefield  has  found,  if  not  happi- 
ness, the  stepping-stones  to  it.  One  of  them  is  peace, 
here  in  her  home  town  of  Westwood.  A  second  is  the 
security  she  finds  in  the  house  her  parents  left  her.  A 
third  is  the  friendship  of  her  neighbor,  Carolyn  Kramer, 
who,  remembering  her  own  long  search  for  happi- 
ness, listens  with  sympathy  to  the  story  Connie  tells. 


i 


2.  At  seventeen,  Constance  Wakefield  fell  in  love — 
with  the  theater.  She  was  fascinated  by  everything 
connected  with  it.  When  a  troupe  of  traveling  play- 
ers came  to  Westwood,  Connie  managed  to  attend  each 
performance,  and  at  last  began  to  go  to  rehearsals, 
drinking  in  every  word  and  action  on  the  bare  stage. 


Then  Connie  tried  out  for  a  part  with  the  play- 
ers and  fell  in  love  all  over  again — this  time  with 
suavely  handsome  Alex  Delavan,  the  director  of  the 
troupe.  Connie's  cup  of  happiness  was  full  when  Alex 
made  both  her  dreams  come  true.  He  gave  her  a  part, 
and  he  told  her  he  loved  her,  asked  her  to  marry  him ! 


In  thes«  pictures,  as  you  hear  them  on  the  air,  Carolyn  Kramer  is  played  by  Claudia  Morgan,  Constance  Wakefield  hy  Louise  Barclay.  The  Right  to 
Happiness  is  written  by  John  M.  Young,  and  is  heard  every  Monday  through  Friday,  3:45  P.M.,  EST,  over  stations  of  the  National  Broadcasting  Company. 


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4.  Connie  was  well  aware  of  all  that  she  was  giving  np, 
that  night  she  slipped  out  of  her  parents'  house  to  elope 
with  Alex.  But  what  were  comfort,  security,  compared  to 
the  joy  of  being  Alex's  wife,  the  wonderful  opportunity 
for  a  career  on  the  professional  stage  that  the  life  with  Alex 
Delavan   and  his   traveling   stock   company   offered   her? 


5.  The  company  left  Westwood,  and  Connie,  married  now 
to  Alex,  went  along.  For  a  year  they  toured;  Connie 
proved  an  apt  pupil — she  had  great  talent,  great  promise, 
Alex  said.  By  the  end  of  that  year,  Connie  was  sure  she 
had  everything  in  the  world — Alex,  her  career,  and  now, 
to  make  life  complete,  perfect,  her  wonderful  baby  boy. 


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8.  Connie's  lucky  slar  still  rode  high  in  the  sky.  She 
and  Alex  had  two  ihildren.  no^\ — Ted  and  his  si>ler. 
Susan,  a  year  younger  than  he.  The  Delavan-  lived  in 
a  luxnrious  apartment:  l)oth  of  tlieiti  were  famous  in  .\ew 
York,  heart  of  the  theater.  This.  Connie  told  her=elf. 
was     happiness     to      last     any     woman     for     a     lifetime. 


6.  But  even  greater  things  beckoned.  Shortly  after  little 
Ted  was  born,  Alex  was  offered  an  important  position  as 
a  director  in  New  York — New  York,  the  mecca  of  hope 
for  everyone  in  show  basiness.  The  new  opportunities 
that  this  job  held  for  Alex  meant  a  great  step  forward 
for  Connie,  too,  for  she  was  offered  a  part  in  the  play. 


7.  Only  a  few  short  years  ago,  Connie  had  had  many  a 
daydream  of  herself  in  a  star's  dressing  room,  a  snccessfol 
actress,  surrounded  by  all  the  panoply  of  greatness — 
telegrams,  flowers,  wonderful  reviews  in  the  papers,  people 
anxious  to  congratulate  her.  And  now  dreams  become 
reality,    with    her    success    as    the    star    of    Alex's    play. 


9.  Then  came  change.  A  Hollywood  offer  for  Constance, 
another  for  Alex.  But  in  Hollywood  Alex's  success  didn't 
keep  pace  with  Connie's  meteoric  rise  to  motion  picture 
stardom,  nor  did  his  love  for  Connie  keep  pace  with  the 
passing  of  the  years.  Alex  turned  to  other  women,  and 
then '  Connie  knew  bitterly  that  happiness  is  not  forever. 


10^  Connie  and  her  children  faced  the  future  alone.  She 
finishes  her  story,  telling  how  she  divorced  Alex,  left 
Hollywood,  returned  to  her  home  town,  to  the  house  her 
parents,  now  dead,  left  to  her.  Here  she  seeks  for  her- 
self and  her  children,  she  tells  Carolyn  Elramer,  the 
happiness — blasting  and  secure — that  is  every  woman's  right. 

53 


f  m ! 


•^>- 


V 


5^at  ^<w,  ^adc(^  T^crtot  le^CKAC^  t^  6€<it  ^<xt  Ctt  t^ 

THE  pale  sea-green  walls  and  carpeting  of  the  big  NBC  studio  in 
New  York's  Radio  City  form  the  backgrovmd  for  the  Fred  Waring 
programs,  almost  as  interesting  to  watch  as  they  are  to  hear.  The 
audience,  in  gay  tangerine-colored  seats,  upholstered  in  the  same 
green,  adds  a  brightness  almost  matching  that  on  the  stage.  The 
daytime  program  finds  the  performers  in  everyday  clothes,  but  at 
night  the  cast  is  more  formal — dinner  jackets  for  the  men,  lovely 
evening  gowns  for  the  women. 
Left  to  right,  as  you'd  see  them  from  the  front  row:  Penny  Perry, 


n 


/ft 


Gloria  Mudell,  Joan  Wheatley,  Daisy  Bernier,  Jane  Wilson,  Joe 
Marine.  Behind  the  girls,  announcer  Bill  Biven;  behind  him,  the 
men  of  the  Glee  Club.  Fred  Waring  himself  stands  at  the  front  of 
the  stage;  on  either  side  of  him  are  Livingston  Gearhart  and  Virginia 
Morley,  duo-piano  team.  Stuart  Churchill  stands  to  the  right  of 
the  Glee  Club.  Far  right,  the  orchestra,  with  "Uncle  Lumpy" 
Brannum  at  his  bass  fiddle  and  Foley  McClintock  above  and  to  the 
right  of  him.  Fred  Waring's  morning  program:  Monday  through 
Friday  at  10,  EST;  night  show  Thursdays  at  10: 30  EST.  Both  on  NBC. 


\.„ 


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^at  t^au,  l^euCca  "TUcriai  xcAcrved-  t^  6c4i  <xea,t  in  tk 

THE  pale  sea-gi-een  walls  and  carpeting  of  the  big  NBC  studio  in 
New  York's  Radio  City  form  the  background  for  the  Fred  Waring 
programs,  almost  as  interesting  to  watch  as  they  are  to  hear.  The 
audience,  in  gay  tangerine-colored  seats,  upholstered  in  the  same 
green,  adds  a  brightness  almost  matching  that  on  the  stage.  The 
daytime  program  finds  the  performers  in  everyday  clothes,  but  at 
night  the  cast  is  more  formal — dinner  jackets  for  the  men,  lovely 
evening  gowns  for  the  women.  | 

Left  to  right,  as  you'd  see  them  from  the  front  row:  Penny  Perry,       I 


Gloria  Mudell,  Joan  Wheatley,  Daisy  Bemier,  Jane  Wilson,  Joe 
Marine.  Behind  the  girls,  announcer  BiU  Biven;  behind  him,  the 
men  of  the  Glee  Club.  Fred  Waring  himself  stands  at  the  front  of 
the  stage;  on  either  side  of  him  are  Livingston  Gearhart  and  Virginia 
Morley,  duo-piano  team.  Stuart  Churchill  stands  to  the  right  of 
the  Glee  Club.  Far  right,  the  orchestra,  with  "Uncle  Lumpy" 
Brannum  at  his  bass  fiddle  and  Foley  McClintock  above  and  to  the 
k  right  of  him.  Fred  Waring's  morning  program:  Monday  through 
I         Friday  at  10,  EST;  night  show  Thursdays  at  10: 30  EST.  Both  on  NBC. 


'% 


Breakfast  in  bed,  served  by  Edna,  is  Todd's 
idea  of  a  busy  quizmaster's  heaven.  But  a 
quizmaster's  busy  wife  likes  pampering,  too; 
for  her,  dinner  out— cooked  by  someone  else! 


Double  role  for  Edna :  wife,  at  home ; 
at  work,  severest  (and  dearest)  critic 

By  EDNA  RUSSELL 


Good  music  means  more  than  good  listening  for 
Todd  and  Edna — it's  soothing  and  relaxing  too. 


TODD  always  isays,  "Almost  everybody  can  use  some 
money." 
That's  why  he  gets,  such  a  kick  out  of  being  a  Santa 
Claus  every  Sunday  as  the  M.  C.  of  the  CBS  show.  Strike 
It  Rich.  Think  of  it,  nearly  a  hundred  thousand  dollzirs 
have  already  been  given  away  by  Todd's  sponsor,  and 
some  three  hundred  people  have  gained  their  dearest 
wishes,  or  got  a  start  toward  them. 

"I  like  this  show  better  than  anything  I  have  ever 
done,"  Todd  tells  everyone.  "It  has  such  a  human  angle. 
The  people  are  so  real." 

I  love  my  husband's  show,  too.  Todd  says  he  is  his 
own  best  critic  and  I'm  the  second  best,  but  I'm  not  so 
sure  I  agree.  He  will  coftie  home,  or  we'll  meet  after 
the  broadcast,  and  do  our  usual  post  mortem.  "I  didn't 
like  it  so  well  tonight,"  he'U  start.  "Oh,  I  don't  know," 
I'll  say,  "maybe  it  wasn't  the  best,  but  it  sounded  good 


/i 


RUSSELL 


/ 


W' 


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% 


If  Edna  stood  at  the  microphoine 
with  Todd,  she  couldn't  have  a 
greater  interest  in  Strike  It  Rich. 


uf 


X 


to  me."  I  always  think  Todd's  work  is  fine. 

When  Strike  It  Rich  started,  more  than  a  year  ago, 
we  were  living  in  Scarsdale,  near  New  York  City.  I 
spent  Siuiday  evenings  playing  solitaire  and  listening  to 
the  radio  (a  combination  we  both  go  for)  while  Todd 
was  working  from  the  CBS  Playhouse  in  New  York. 
A  little  while  before  he  was  due  home  I  would  be  out 
in  the  kitchen  fixing  the  after-broadcast  supper  he  likes, 
leaving  the  card  table  in  the  hving  room  with  my  sig- 
nals set.  If  the  show  had  sounded  super  I  would  have 
an  Ace  turned  up  to  greet  him;  a  Queen  meant  it  was  a 
good  average  show;  and  a  Jack  meant,  well — "Thank 
heaven  I  don't  see  that  Jack  often,"  Todd  tells  our 
friends. 

He  says  I  always  work  harder  on  the  show,  listening 
at  home,  than  he  does  on  the  air.  It's  true  I  get  myself 
worked  up  about  the  people  who  seem  mike-shy,  al- 


though I  have  watched  my  husband  during  broadcasts 
and  if  anyone  can  put  a  contestant  at  ease  I  know  he 
can.  Considerately,  he  has  them  face  sUghtly  away 
from  the  studio  audience  and  directly  toward  him,  and 
he  looks  right  at  them  and  engages  their  interest  at 
once,  so  they  have  Httle  time  for  stage  fright.  He  doesn't 
play  it  for  gags  either,  to  make  the  audience  laugh  and 
the  contestant  stand  uncertainly  and  wait  for  the  laughs 
to  subside.  When  a  contestant  chokes  up  with  emotion 
— and  remember,  many  wha  want  to  Strike  It  Rich  are 
facing  pressing  and  serious  problems — ^he  covers  for 
them  with  conversation  until  they  get  hold  of  themselves. 

"Todd,  you  handled  that  beautifvilly,"  I'll  say  to  him 
silently^  knowing  that's  about  the  toughest  thing  he 
can  be  called  upon  to  do.  Like  most  men,  my  htisband  is 
scared  and  embarrassed  by  tears. 

I  remember  the  time  a  woman  {Continued  on  page  75) 


Strike  It  Rich. 


yeiUrililllliyyiiyiifldiifiilililiillM^^ 


57 


\**W- 


'k'.r^' 


/*  X'.v' 


THIS  is  -such  a  happy  season! 
Around  the  holidays,  the  house  always  seems  to  be 
full  of  people.  At  this  time  of  year,  I  try  to  make 
every  day  open  house.  Half  the  job  is  keeping  a  few 
things  always  ready  in  the  pantry  and  the  ice-box.  I 
like  to  have  several  boxes  of  ready -mixed  products  on 
hand.  Biscuit  mix  can  be  used  to  make  not  only  biscuits, 
but  fruit  desserts,  coffee  rings,  loaves  and  muffins.  I  use 
pancake  mix  to  make  my  New  Year  Loaf.  It  has  an 
unusual  flavor  when  served  hot  with  a  light  glaze.  Hot 
rolls,  muffins  or  gingerbread  can  make  a  party  too. 

Nuts  and  fruits  are  good  to  munch  on,  and  fun  to  turn 
into  decoration  for  special  foods.  An  extra  loaf  of  bread. 
a  gallon  of  cider  and  plenty  of  crackers  help  out  when 
guests  are  unexpected,  and  I  keep  plenty  of  cheese  of 
various  kinds  on  hand.  The  fun  comes  in  putting  all 
these  things  together  in  unusual  ways. 

I  make  cookies  well  in  advance — they  keep  wonder- 
fully. For  hot  chocolate  I  make  a  syrup  to  store  in  the 
refrigerator.  When  there  are  teen-agers  in  the  party, 
I  add  a  double-decker  sandwich  of  sliced  American 
cheese  and  canned  chopped  ham  with  lettuce  and  may- 
onnaise. I  toast  and  salt  nuts  for  my  young  married 
friends  and  serve  them  with  spiced  cider  and  crackers. 
Often  I  make  up  onion  cheese  spread,  thin  enough  to 
dip  out  of  the  bowl  with  a  potato  chip. 

Sometimes  an  entire  family  drops  in  for  a  visit,  and 
I  hke  to  invite  them  to  lunch  or  dinner.  I  find  it  easy 
with  the  help  of  some  of  the  recipes  I'm  going  to  give 
you.  They  add  the  glamour  and  the  "little  extra"  that 
you  need  when  you're  making  a  meal  for  two  serve  six. 


Every  day  can  be  a  party  at  your  house  during 
the  holiday  season  if  yon  follow  Kate  Smith's  sug- 
gestions for  no-fuss-and-bother  entertaining. 


By 

KATE  SMITH 


RADIO    MIRROR    FOOD    COUNSELOR 

Listen  each  Monday  througli  Friday  at  12  Noon 
when  Kate  Smith  Speaks  on  the  M utuaJ  network. 


Sugar  Cookies 


2  cups  sifted  all-purpose 
flour 
1^2  tsps.  baking  powder 
1/2  tsp.  salt 
%  cup  shortening 
1  cup  sugar,  white  or 
brown    (firmly  packed) 


1  egg 

1  tsp.  vanilla 

1  tbsp.  milk 
colored  sugar 
chopped   cherries, 
citron 


Sift  together  dry  ingredients.  Cream  shortening;  beat 
in  sugar,  egg,  vanilla,  milk.  Stir  in  flour  mixture.  Mix 
well.  Divide  dough  into  portion  and  roll  Vs"  thick  on 
lightly  floured  board.  Cut  with  floured  cutter.  Place 
on  ungreased  baking  sheet.  Decorate  with  colored  sugar, 
chopped  cherries  and  citron.   Makes  4 — 5  dozen. 

To  Color  Sugar:  Place  V4:  cup  sugar  on  square  of  wax 
paper.  Sprinkle  2  or  3  drops  red  or  green  vegetable 
coloring  on  sugar.  Fold  wax  paper  over  and  rub  until 
'sugar  absorbs  color. 


Chocolate  Cookies 


31/2 

1 

1/2 

1 

1 

11/2 


cups   sifted   enriched 

flour 

tsp.  baking  powder 

tsp.  salt 

tsp.  cinnamon 

cup  shortening 

cups   sugar 


2  eggs,  well  beaten 

3  tbsps.  milk 

3  squares,   unsweetened 
chocolate,    melted    and 
cooled 

1  tsp.  vanilla 


Sift  flour,  baking  powder,  salt  and  cinnamon.    Cream 
shortening;  add  sugar  gradually  (Continued  on  page  93) 


RADIO         MIRROR 


F    O    R 


BETTER 


L    I    V    I    N    G 


m^ 


^  dof  m)fiAa^^j  tmi/i  i/ie  v^ie  on  m/ucA  a  i(w-mmi  6.fieaM  /fe/^  m^im^ta^^ 


This  story,  written  especially  for  Radio  Mirror,  retells  in  fiction  form 
an  episode  from  the  life  of  Wendy  Warren.  Wendy  Warren  and  the  News  is 
heard  every  Monday  through  Friday  at  12  noon,  EST,  over  the  CBS  network. 


60 


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louu 


w  (M^9ni  a 


v-^ 


f'tm  fjici/ii  ^Ae  to 


(me6 


The  story  of  the  marriage 
of  Wendy  Warren  (played 
by  Florence  Freeman)  and 
Gil  Kendal  (Les  Tremayne). 


ON  a  brisk  February  afternoon  Sam  Warren  resumed 
the  editorial  chair  of  the  Elmdale  Clarion. .  Wendy 
made  quite  a  little  ceremony  of  returning  the  office 
to  her  father.  Gil  was  there,  having  come  down  from 
New  York  with  her;  Johnny  Ennis,  reporter-  and  man  of 
all  work  around  the  Clarion,  was  on  hand,  and  the  type- 
setter and  the  printer;  even  Aunt  Dorrie  walked  over 
from  the  house  to  watch  the  proceedings. 

Outside,  crisp  winter  sunlight  sparkled  on  a  thin  crust 
of  snow  in  the  streets  of  Elmdale,  and  on  the  boarded-up 
front  of  the  Clarion  office — boarded  up  because  a  bomb 
had  been  tossed  there  only  a  few  weeks  before. 

"We  tried  to  keep  the  Clarion  serving  Elmdale  in  your 
absence,"  said  Wendy,  speaking  of  the  long  and  fruitless 
political  battle  that  had  brought  about  the  throwing  of 
the  bomb.  "Although  the  town  wasn't  with  us,  we  felt 
that  we  were  serving  the  cause  of  right  and  justice.  But 
—but—" 

"We  fought  a  good  fight,  but  we  lost,"  Johnny  Ennis 
put  in  dryly. 

"That's  right,"  Wendy  laughed  shakily.  "And  now 
I'm  resigning  in  favor  of  the  best  editor  I  know.  Dad — " 
She'd  been  standing  beside  the  ancient  swivel  chair  by 
the  battered  roll-top  desk.  Now  she  stepped  aside,  mo- 
tioned her  father  toward  the  chair.  Sam's  eyes  were  wet 
as  he  sat  down,  and  for  a  moment  his  poise  deserted  him. 

"Well,"  he  said  clearing  his  throat.  "Well — it  isn't 
every  old  fellow  who  can  afford  to  be  sick  for  weeks  at  a 
time,  and  still  know  that  his  business  is  being  run  the 
way  he  wants  it  run.  You  didn't  lose  that  fight,  Wendy. 
You  got  on  the  side  you  thought  was  right  and  stayed 
there,  even  though  everyone  else  was  against  you.  I'm 
proud  of  you.   The  Clarion's  losing  a  real  editor  and — " 

Momentarily,  his  eyes  went  to  Gil  Kendal,  rested  on 
the  face  of  his  prospective  son-in-law.  "And  you,"  he 
was  thinking,  "are  getting  a  real  woman."  But  he  didn't 
say  it  aloud.  Instead  he  finished  hastily,  "And  now — you 
people  get  yourselves  out  of  here.  In  case  you  forget, 
I've  got  a  newspaper  to  put  to  bed!" 

Wendy  left  with  her  aunt  and  Gil.  She  walked  be- 
tween them,  her  serene  profile  turned  toward  Gil,  her 
smile  all  for  him,  and  she  did  not  look  back.  Dorrie 
marveled.  For  weeks  until  the  Elmdale  election  a  day  or 
two  before,  Wendy  had  put  her  heart  and  soul  into  bat- 
tling the  political  machine  that  threatened  the  town.  She 
had  lost;  Mayor  Dexter  was  still  in  office;  Charles  Lang 
was  still,  for  all  Wendy's  efforts  to  expose  him,  the  town's 


respected  banker  and  big  business  man.  And  now 
Wendy  seemed  not  to  have  a  thought  in  the  world  but 
for  Gil  and  for  their  wedding,  which  was  only  a  few 
days  away. 

But  that  was  Wendy,  Dorrie  thought — making  her 
choice  and  putting  everything  she  had  into  it,  putting 
everything  else  behind  her.  Her  fight  against  the  Dexter- 
Lang  machine  was  past  history  now,  along  with  the  other 
things  she  had  once  done  and  been,  along  with  her  war- 
time days  as  a  foreign  correspondent,  along  with  her 
engagement  to  Mark  Douglas.  .  .  .  Resolutely,  Dorrie 
swung  her  thoughts  away  from  Mark.  Gil,  this  mar- 
riage, had  to  be  right  for  Wendy.  And  after  all,  why 
shouldn't  it  be?  They  loved  each  other,  which  was  the 
important  part.  Besides  that,  there  were  trimmings,, 
luxurious  trimmings.  Gil  was  the  son  of  a  very  im- 
portant, very  rich  family;  he  was  important  in  his  own 
right,  the  publisher  of  the  Bulletin,  one  of  New  York's 
largest  newspapers.  He  was  charming  and  likable,  and 
his  devotion  to  Wendy  was  touching  to  see. 

That  evening,  when  the  four  of  them  were  having 
after-dinner  coffee  in  the  comfortable  old-fashioned  liv- 
ing room  of  the  Elmdale  house,  Dorrie  watched  Gil's 
face  as  Wendy  talked  of  her  wedding  plans. 

"And  we'll  have  a  whole  week  together  at  the  Long 
Island  house,"  Wendy  was  saying,  her  eyes  glowing. 
"It's  such  a  dream  of  a  place — but  then,  you'll  see  it 
when  you  come  down  for  the  weddin?!  It's  real]y  my 
idea,  and  I'm  afraid  Gil  is  only  humoring  me,  but  I  do 
want  us  to  be  alone." 

She  was  sitting  on  the  hassock  at  her  father's  feet,  as 
usual.  Gil  was  lounging  on  the  sofa.  Now  he  reached 
out  to  touch,  gently,  the  top  of  her  shining  head. 

"My  darling,  it's  not  a  case  of  humoring  you.  I  think 
it's  a  wonderful  idea." 

"So  do  I,"  said  Sam.  "It's  a  pity,  Wendy,  that  you'll 
have  to  go  in  to  the  city  every  day  for  the  broadcast." 

"We  won't  mind,"  Wendy  assured  him.  "We'll  drive 
in — and  it  only  means  an  hour  and  a  half." 

"What  will  you  do  with  your  apartment,  dear?"  Dorrie 
asked. 

"Sublet,"  Wendy  answered,  and  tilted  her  head  to  look 
up  at  Gil.  "Gil,  will  you  mind  a  few  dainty  feminine 
touches  in  your  extremely  masculine  apartment?" 

Gil  smiled  mysteriously.  "We  won't  be  living  there, 
sweet.  I've  a  surprise  for  you.  I  think  Mother  wanted 
to  spring  it  herself,  but  I  can't  resist.    She's  turning  over 


m 


ONE        WONDERFUL        DAY 


the  town  house  to  us  for  a  wedding  present." 

"Your — "  Wendy  stopped,  looking  rather  as  if  the  town 
house,  with  its  servants  and  its  multitudinous  rooms,  had 
toppled  over  on  her  then  and  there.  "Your  mother's 
house?" 

He  nodded.  "It's  too  much  for  her.  She's  taking  an 
apartment,  leaving  us  the  staff,  everything." 

"But  Gil!"  Her  eyes  were  wide,  almost  pleading  with 
him.    "It's  so — I  mean,  it's  so  big!" 

Didn't  he  see?  Dorrie  thought  in  bewilderment.  He 
was  still  smiling  as  if,  instead  of  distressing  Wendy,  he'd 
just  granted  her  her  dearest  wish. 

"It's  not  really  big,"  he  said.  "And  it's  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  residences  in  the  city." 

"Yes,  I  know."  Wendy  swallowed.  "It's  a  lovely 
house.  It's — breath-taking.  I — "  She  jumped  up  sud- 
denly and  went  to  the  window.  "What's  the  night  like? 
Gil,  there's  a  full  moon  on  the  snow — do  you  want  to 
take  a  walk?" 

He  rose  obligingly.  "It's  cold."  Dorrie  warned  them. 
"Better  wrap  up  well,  both  of  you." 

Sam  chuckled.  "Don't  forget  your  overshoes;  wear 
some  ear-muffs;  take  along  an  umbrella  and  an  oil 
stove,"  he  mimicked. 

Dorrie  didn't  smile.  She  waited,  concentrating  on  her 
knitting  until  the  young  people  had  left.  Then  she  said 
intensely,  "Sam,  that's  the  second  thing  that's  happened." 

"Second  what?"  asked  Sam  blankly. 

"First  was  the  wedding."  Dorrie  looked  at  him  with 
troubled  eyes.  "Wendy  didn't  really  want  it  that  way, 
all  big  and  formal.    It  was  Gil's  mother,  and  Gil—" 

"Mm,"  said  Sam,  onlv  half  agreeing.  "But  I  think 
she's  just  as  glad,  now  it's  been  decided  that  way." 

"But  the  house,  Sam!  Another  woman's  house!  It'll 
never  be  really  hers.  It's — oh,  you  wouldn't  understand. 
Only  a  womian  would  really  understand." 

Sam  smiled  at  her  fondly.  He  might  not  understand 
about  the  house,  but  he  understood  Dorrie.  His  mother- 
less daughter  was  the  only  child  Dorrie'd  ever  had,  and 
for  the  size  of  her  heart,  Dorrie  should  have  had  a  dozen. 
"At  the  same  time,"  he  told  her,  "Wendy  can  hardly  look 
a  wedding-gift  horse  in  the  mouth,  if  you'll  pardon  the 
inelegant  expression.  Besides,"  he  added  thoughtfully, 
"Gil's  got  a  position  to  keep  up,  you  know.  Wehdy'll 
be  moving  into  quite  a  niche  in  society  as  his  wife." 

Dorrie  bent  over  her  knitting,  took  several  stitches 
before  she  spoke.  "Does  Wendy  realize  that?"  she  asked 
in  a  low  voice. 

"She's  not  a  child,  Dorrie.  She's  an  adult,  and  a  darned 
smart  one.  She's  not  walking  into  marriage  with  her  eyes 
closed." 

"But  she's  in  love,  Sam,"  said  Dorrie  softly.  "When 
you're  in  love  as  much  as  that,  it's  no  help  to  your  eye- 
sight." 

"Um."  He  frowned  a  little.  "You  like  Gil,  don't  you, 
Dorrie?" 

She  looked  up,  facing  him  squarely.  "Yes,  I  do,  Sam. 
But  I  wonder  if  we  really  know  him.  I  wonder  if  Wendy 
does.  It's  come  over  me  bit  by  bit — that  there's  much 
more  to  his  life  than  we  have  any  notion  of.  I — I'm 
afraid  I  can't  put  it  into  words  very  well,  Sam.    This  big 

house  of  his  is   an 


Aunt  Dorrie 
(played  by  Tess  Sheehan) 


Nona  Marsh 
(played  by  Anne  Burr) 


example,  with  the 
servants  and  the  so- 
cial life  that  goes 
with  it.  It's  what 
he's  always  been 
used  to,  and  it's 
something  we  don't 
know  anything 
about  at  all." 

Sam  frowned  and 
lifted  his  coffee  cup. 
Finding  it  cold,  he 
set  it  down  again 
with  a  little  grimace 
of  distaste.  Dorrie 
reached  over  and 
warmed  it  from  the 
pot  before  he  re- 
plied. 

"I  know  what  you 
mean,"  he  said  fi- 
nally. "I  think  per- 
haps I'm  inclined  to 
agree  with  you.  But  even 


one  thing  we  must 
always  remember, 
Dorrie.  It's  Wendy's 
life,  not  ours.  We 
want  all  the  happi- 
ness in  the  world  for 
her,  but  if  she 
shouldn't  find  it,  we 
can't  be  any  help — 
unless  she  asks  us. 
We  must  never  in- 
terfere. Never,  Dor- 
rie." 

Neither  of  them 
mentioned  Mark 
Douglas,  who  had 
known  Wendy  since 
high  school,  who  had 
worked  with  her  on 
the  high  school  paper, 

and  who  had  been  engaged  to  her  before  the  war.  Neither 
of  them  mentioned  that  it  was  a  long  time  after  Mark's 
plane  had  crashed  and  Mark  himself  had  been  supposed 
dead  that  Wendy  had  begun  to  respond  to  Gilbert 
Kendal's  ardent  suit.  And  when  Mark  had  been  found 
finally  in  a  remote  Lolo  village,  and  had  come  back  after 
a  five-year  absence  from  the  civilized  world  .  .  .  well, 
it  was  only  a  few  months  ago  that  Wendy  had  come  to 
Sam  with  a  personal  problem.  Mark  still  loved  her  and 
wanted  her  and  was  doing  his  best  to  win  her  away  from 
Gil.  And  she  wasn't  sure  of  her  own  feelings.  Sam  had 
given  her  the  only  answer  he  knew — that  only  she  could 
be  sure. 

And  what  was  it  she'd  said  when  she'd  decided  to  stay 
with  Gil? — That  it  was  he  who  needed  her  more,  that  in 
spite  of  his  wealth  and  his  worldliness,  he  was  a  very 
lonely  man.  Whatever  happened  to  him,  Mark  could 
stand  on  his  own  feet.    He  could  take  it.  .  .  . 

Mark  had  taken  a  lot  in  the  past  months.  Losing 
Wendy,  and  then  discovering  that  the  backer  for  the 
play  he'd  been  working  on  was  his  rival,  Gil.  He'd 
blown  up  at  first,  refused  to  let  the  play  be  produced, 
and  had  gone  into  hiding,  working  out  his  misery  on 
the  run-down  family  farm  outside  of  Elmdale.  But  he 
couldn't  stay  in  hiding  long,  not  when  Wendy'd  needed 
him  in  her  fight  against  Dexter  and  Lang.  He'd  nearly 
got  himself  killed,  and  he'd  certainly  been  well  smeared 
in  the  political  mud  that  was  slung  .  .  .  and  now  in  a  few 
days  he  would  be  going  to  Wendy's  wedding,  seeing  her 
married  to  Gil  .  .  . 

ON  the  day  after  Wendy  had  returned  the  Clarion  to 
her  father,  Mark  sat  in  the  farmhouse  living  room, 
energetically  typing  a  letter.  There  was  a  good  fire 
going  in  the  fireplace;  his  friend  and  co-worker,  Bob 
Evans,  warmed  himself  at  the  flames  and  watched  Mark 
curiously. 

"Well?"  he  asked  finally,  when  Mark  had  ripped  the 
sheet  from  the  typewriter,  signed  it  with  a  flourish,  and 
folded  it  into  an  already  addressed  envelope. 

"My  resignation  as  Chairman  of  the  Independent 
Voters'  League  of  Elmdale,"  said  Mark  succinctly. 

Bob  shook  his  head.  "I  thought  so.  But  I  don't  see 
whv  you're  doing  it." 

"Are  you  crazy?"  Mark  inquired.  "After  the  smear- 
ing I  took  at  that  last  meeting  before  the  election?" 

"But  it  was  a  frame-up!"  Bob  exploded.  "Of  course 
the  membership  doesn't  know  that — but  they  won't 
think  more  of  you  if  you  resign.  If  they  want  you  out  of 
the  chair,  let  'em  kick  you  out.  Then  you  can  step  up 
on  your  little  soapbox  and  tell  'em  the  truth." 

"And  who'd  believe  me?  I'd  be  just  a  sorehead,  yell- 
ing sour  grapes.  Oh,  no — "  He  broke  off,  listening  for  a 
moment  as  the  sound  of  a  motor  broke  the  country  still- 
ness. 'Then  he  went  on,  "No,  Bob,  I'm  resigning  from 
the  League,  but  I'm  not  resigning  from  the  fight.  Only 
it's  got  to  be  played  slow  and  easy — my  way.  This  time 
I  don't  want  to  make  any  mistakes." 

Bob  had  gone  to  the  window  to  peer  out  at  the  yard. 
"Company,"  he  announced.  "Who — ?  Oh,  it's  your 
beautiful  ex." 

It  was  a  moment  before  Mark  realized  that  Bob  meant 

Nona.    That  Nona  Marsh  had  ever  been  anything  of  his, 

much  less  a  fiancee,  even  casually,  even  for  a  few  weeks, 

was  still  not  quite  believable.     In  a  sense  they  weren't 

friends — allies,  rather,  as  it  had  suited  Nona.    Mark 


ONE        WONDERFUL        DAY 


Sam  Warren 
(played  by  Rod  Hendrickson) 


I 
I 
I 


wanted  Wendy,  and 
Nona  wanted  Gil — 
with  some  justifica- 
tion, Mark  had  al- 
ways thought.  She 
was  part  of  Gil's 
world — rich,  social, 
even  distantly  re- 
lated to  Gil  through 
his  mother. 

Mark  went  to  the 
door  to  meet  her, 
and  saw  her  picking 
her  way  through 
the  packed  and 
piled  snow  of  the 
farm  yard,  well 
wrapped  in  a  mink 
coat,  with  a  bit  of 
mink  on  her  ex- 
quisite little  head,  and  with  her  feet  encased  in  the 
sheerest  of  stockings  and  the  lightest  of  slippers  with 
four-inch  heels.  "I'll  rustle  up  coffee  and  sandwiches," 
Bob  offered  and  tactfully  disappeared. 

"Welcome  to  Little  America,"  Mark  called  to  Nona. 
"Can  you  manage  in  those  spike  heels?" 

"I've  been  walking  for  years,  dear,"  she  assured  him, 
and  finally  gained  the  farmhouse  steps.  "Why  don't  you 
sweep  all  this  white  stuff  into  a  neat  little  pile,  some- 
where out  of  sight?    Hello." 

Her  cheek  brushed  close  within  a  few  inches  of  his 
face,  a  gesture  which  might  or  might  not  have  been  the 
offer  of  a  kiss. 

"Hello  yourself,"  he  greeted  her,  and  reached  to  help 
her  with  her  coat.    "What're  you  doing  up  here?" 

"Looking  for  a  fireplace,"  she  said,  going  to  it  and 
standing  gratefully  close  to  its  warmth.  "I'm  frozen. 
Also,  I  thought  we  might  be  friends  again.  Do  you 
mind?" 

"Not  at  all.  I'm  a  friendly  sort.  I  like  to  be  friends 
with  everybody." 

"What   a   repellent   thought.    Me,   I'm   choosy."    She 
picked  up  the  thick,  engraved  white  card  that  stood  on 
the  mantel.    "An  invitation  to  the  wedding,"  she  mur- 
mured.  "The  unkindest  cut  of  all." 
"No,"  said  Mark,  "I  asked  for  one." 
"You —  You're  really  going?"  Her  eyebrows  rose. 
"Yes,  dear,"  he  answered,  falling  into  her  idiom. 
"But  why?    A  slight  case  of  self-torture?" 
"I  wouldn't  say  that."   But  he  didn't  offer  to  tell  her 
why  he  was  going — couldn't  have  told  himself  why,  for 
that  matter.  It  was  just  that — well,  if  there  was  anything 
he  wanted  in  this  world,  it  was  to  remain  friends  with 
Wendy,  and  perhaps  to  stay  as  close  to  her  as  he  decently 
could  without  getting  in  her  way.  And  a  little  of  it  was 
the  feeling — ridiculous,  of  course — that  if  Wendy  needed 
help,  he  would  be  there. 

Nona  was  looking  at  him  speculatively.  "You're  a 
queer  one,"  she  observed.  "I  never  thought  I'd  see  you 
at  Wendy's  wedding." 

He  grinned  crookedly.  "You  never  thought  you'd  see 
Wendy's  wedding — that's  what  you  really  mean." 

"Touche."  She  made  a  little  mocking  bow,  and  sat 
down  in  the  corner  of  the  sofa.  "Where's  your  fellow- 
eskimo?" 

"Making  like  a  hostess  in  the  kitchen,"  said  Mark. 
"Well,  Miss  Marsh?   Spill." 

"Mark — "  she  leaned  forward  earnestly — "Wendy's 
going  to  be  very  unhappy  married  to  Gil.  She  doesn't 
know  it  yet.  but  she's  marrying  Mother  Kendal  as  well 
as  Gil.  And  as  you  and  I  both  know,  Gil  isn't  quite  the 
plumed  knight  on  horseback  she  thinks  he  is.  There's  a 
lot  more  to  him  than  that." 

"So,"  said  Mark,  "what's  there  to  do  about  it?" 
"We  could  have  done  something  about  it,"  said  Nona 
intensely.  "We  could  have  let  her  know  that  Gil  was 
in  with  Charles  Lang  on  that  paper  mill  thing,  that  it 
was  Gil's  money  she  was  really  fighting  all  the  while 
she  thought  she  was  fighting  Lang  and  Mayor  Dexter. 
I  said  let  her  know,  Mark.  You  needn't  have  told  her, 
nor  I,  but  we  could  have  seen  that  she  found  out." 

He  moved  restlessly.  "We've  been  all  through  that. 
Maybe  the  marriage  of  hers  is  the  equivalent  of  her 
jumping  over  a  cliff — but  I'd  have  jumped  over  a  cliff 
myself  before  I  destroyed,  or  let  you  destroy,  what  she 
thinks  of  Gil.    For  that  matter,  I  did  stick  in  an  oar. 


indirectly.  I  didn't  say  anything  to  Wendy,  but  I  did 
tell  Gil  what  I  thought  of  him." 

"You  told  Gil?    When?" 

"After  that  sneak  bombing  attack  on  the  Clarion. 
Oh,  I  know  Gil  didn't  order  it,  wouldn't  have  had  it 
happen  for  the  world — but  that's  the  kind  of  people  he's 
mixed  up  with.  I  told  him — "  Mark  went  on  with  bitter 
relish,  because  telling  Nona  these  things  was  a  little  like 
telling  them  to  Gil  a  second  time — "that  he'd  cut  his 
mother's  throat  to  feed  his  own  ego.  That  his  newspaper 
ideals  were  incorruptible,  but  that  he  wasn't.  I  told  him 
that  he  and  Charles  Lang  were  cut  from  the  same  bolt 
of  cloth." 

Nona  sat  very  still,  her  eyes  wide.  "And  what  did 
he  say?" 

"Nothing,"  said  Mark.  "Oh,  he  told  me  to  get  out, 
but  that  was  all.  Otherwise,  he  took  it.  I  rubbed  that  in, 
too.  I  told  him  that  although  he  was  twenty  poiinds 
heavier  than  I  and  right  in  the  pink,  he  didn't  have 
the  stuff  to  throw  me  out.  He  didn't  even  have  the  stuff 
to  push  a  buzzer  and  let  the  strong-arm  boys  throw  me 
out.  I  told  him  that  I  could  scratch  matches  on  his  desk 
or  spit  on  his  rug — and  he'd  take  that,  too,  because  he's 
hollow,  he's  a  figure  stuffed  with  sawdust." 

Nona  was  very  pale;  Mark  felt  a  twinge  of  pity.  "I'm 
sorry,  Nona,"  he  said  more  gently.  "I  know  you  love 
him.  But  that's  what  I  think  of  him,  and  that's  why,  if 
you've  come  here  with  any  last-minute  tricks  or  plots 
or  machinations  to  stop  the  wedding  up  your  sleeve, 
I'm  serving  notice  that  I  don't  want  to  be  in  on  them." 

Her  lips  curved  in  a  bitter  smile.  "What  good  would 
tricks  be  now?  I  can't  very  well  ask  you  to  run  forward 
shouting,  'This  must  not  be'  when  the  minister  comes  to 
the  part  about  'if  anyone  can  show  just  cause  why  this 
man  and  woman  should  not  be  joined  in  wedlock,  let 
him  speak  now' — or  however  it  goes.  But  J'm  not  quit- 
ting, Mark.    I'll  never  quit." 

Mark's  head  went  up  warningly,  and  she  went  on 
quickly,  "Oh,  don't  worry,  I'm  not  going  to  interfere 
with  them  now  or  afterward.  But  you  can't  stop  me 
from  hoping,  and  waiting.  And  that's  all  I  have  to  do — 
wait.  Because  from  now  on,  things  are  going  to  be  just 
bump,bump,bump  for  Wendy — one  let-down  after 
another.  She  knows  and  hates  Gil's  being  involved  with 
Lang  socially;  some  day  she'll  find  out  the  rest.  Because 
after  this,  Lang  won't  let  Gil  alone.  He  knows  the  hold 
he's  got  over  Gil  because  Gil  doesn't  want  Wendy  to 
know  of  their  connection.  And  he'll  use  it  to  bring  Gil 
into  other  deals,  bigger  ones.  And  Lang  isn't  all  of  it. 
There's  Mother  Kendal.  Wendy's  moving  into  a  setup 
she'll  hate." 

MARK  shrugged  resignedly,  his  brief  flare  of  bitterness 
over.   "You  seem  to  know  more  about  Wendy  than 
she  knows  about  herself." 

"You  don't  like  hearing  the  truth,  do  you?" 

"I've  heard  it  all,"  said  Mark,  "and  I'm  tired  of  it. 
Everything  you  say  is  true.  But — Wendy  loves 
the  guy.  I  don't  think  you  quite  realize  what  that 
means,  Nona.  You  don't  realize  what  she's  like,  or 
how  she'll  fight  to  save  her  marriage.  And  that's 
why,  Nona,  I'm 
afraid  you'll  have  to 
wait  a  long  time.  A 
good  long  time." 

At  that  hour,  as 
Mark  and  Nona  sat 
before  the  fire  in  the 
farmhouse,  another 
couple  sat  before  an- 
other fire — Wendy 
and  Gil,  in  the  beau- 
tifully appointed 
drawing  room  of 
Mother  Kendal's 
town  house.  Sam  and 
Dorrie  were  with 
them,  having  come 
for  luncheon  and  for 
their  first  meeting 
with  Mother  Kendal. 

Now    they    were 

having   coffee,   and 

Dorrie    was    still    a 

little   overcome   by 

(Cont'd  on  page  80) 


Mark  Douglas 
(played  l)y  Laniont  Johnson) 


R 
M 

63 


R 
M 

64 


Wt<kf4((w) 


All  Times  Below  Are  EASTERN  TIME 
For  Correct  CENTRAL  STANDARD  TIME,  Subtract  One  Hour 


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is  soloist  on  NBC's  Words  and  Music. 


WILLIAM  L.  SHIRER— returned  to 
the  air,  via  Mutual,  this  Fall  after  a 
much-too-long  absence.  The  author  of 
"End  of  Berlin  Diary"  began  his  dis- 
tinguished career  in  1925  when  he 
joined  the  staff  of  the  Paris  edition 
of  the  Chicago  Tribune.  Chicago-born 
Shirer  is  44,  married,  and  has  two 
daughters.  When  not  in  Europe,  the 
Shirer  family  lives  in  New  York  City. 


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Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 

Kate  Smith  Sings 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

Luncheon  at  Sardi's 

Maggi  McNeills 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

U.  S.  Navy  Band 

Cedric  Foster 

Bill  Baukhage 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Happy  Gang 

Nancy  Craig 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Jack  Kilty 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 

Double  or  Nothing 

Queen  For  A  Day 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Today's  Children 

Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

David  Harum 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

Show 

Hilltop  House 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Heart's  Desire 

Galen  Drake 

House  Party 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Misc.  Programs 

Second  Honeymoon 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Misc.  Programs 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Winner  Take  All 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Two  Ton  Baker 

5:00 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Adventure  Parade 

Challenge  of  the 

treasury  Bandstand 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

Capt.  Midnight 

Yukon 

5:30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Superman 

Jack  Armstrong 

The  Ch  cagoans 

5:45 

Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING   PROGRAMS 


6:00 

John  MacVane 

Eric  Sevareid 

6:15 

Sketches  in  Melody 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

In  My  Opinion 

6:30 

6:45 

Sunoco  News 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 

Chesterfield  Club 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Headline  Edition 

3eulah 

7:15 

News  of  the  World 

Dinner  Date 

Elmer  Davis 

Jack  Smith  Show 

7:30 

Henry  J.  Taylor 

The  Lone  Ranger 

Club  15 

7:45 

H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Inside  of  Sports 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 

Cavalcade  of 

The  Falcon 

The  Railroad  Hour 

Inner  Sanctum 

8:15 

America 

8:30 

Voice  of  Firestone 

Casebook  of  Gregory 

Stars  in  the  Night 

Talent  Scouts 

8:45 

Hood 

Earl  Godwin 

9:00 

Telephone  Hour 

Gabriel  Heatter 

Jimmy  Blaine 

Lux  Radio  Theatre 

9:15 

Radio  Newsreel 

9:30 

Dr.  1.  Q. 

Get  Rich  Quick 

9:55 

Bill  Henry 

10:00 

Contented  Program 

Fishing  and  Hunting 

Arthur  Gaeth 

My  Friend  Irma 

10:15 

Club 

Earl  Godwin 

10:30 

Dance  Orch. 

Curt  Massey  Show 

The  Bob  Hawk  Show 

BEE  BEIVADERET-the  domineer- 
ing Mrs.  Anderson  in  A  Day  in  the 
Life  of  Dennis  Day,  started  her  theat- 
rical career  with  the  Duffy  players  in 
Portland;  after  a  few  years,  had  a 
radio  program  of  her  own.  Married 
to  announcer  Jim  Bannon,  they  have 
a  ten-year-old  son.  Jack,  and  live  on  a 
North  Hollywood  farm  where  Bee 
takes  care  of  the  gardening  herself. 


^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^B^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^l 

A.IVI. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

Local  Programs 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 
Clevelandaires 

Editor's  Diary 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Bob  Poole  Show 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
The  Brighter  Day 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  In  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Listening  Post 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 

11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jacic  Berch 

Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 
Gabriel  Heatter's 

Mailbag 
Minute  Quiz 

Kay  Kyser 
Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:00 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 
News 

Local  Programs 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 
Clevelandaires 

Editor's  Diary 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Bob  Poole  Show 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
The  Brighter  Day 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Club  Time 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 

11:45 

This  is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 

Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 
Gabriel  Heatter's 

Mailbag 
Minute  Quiz 

Kay  Kyser 
Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 

Kate  Smith  Sings 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

Luncheon  At  Sardi's 

Maggi  McNeills 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

Art  Van  Damme 

Cedric  Foster 

Bill  Baukhage 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Quartet 

Happy  Gang 

Nancy  Craig 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Jack  Kilty 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 

Double  or  Nothing 

Queen  For  A  Day 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Today's  Children 

Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

David  Harum 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

Show 

Hilltop  House 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Heart's  Desire 

Galen  Drake 

House  Party 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Misc.  Programs 

Second  Honeymoon 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Misc.  Programs 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Winner  Take  All 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Two  Ton  Baker 

5:00 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Adventure  Parade 

The  Green  Hornet 

Treasury  Bandstand 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

Capt.  Midnight 

5:30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Superman 

Sky  King 

The  Chicagoans 

5:45 

Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Alka  Seltzer  Time 

12:00  1 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 

Kate  Smith  Sings 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

Luncheon  At  Sardi's 

Maggi  McNeills 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

NBC  Concert  Orch. 

Cedric  Foster 

Bill  Baukhage 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Happy  Gang 

Nancy  Craig 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Jack  Kilty 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 

Double  or  Nothing 

Queen  For  A  Day 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Today's  Children 

Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

David  Harum 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

Show 

Hilltop  House 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Heart's  Desire 

Galen  Drake 

House  Party 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Misc.  Programs 

Second  Honeymoon 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

The  Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Winner  Take  All 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Two  Ton  Baker 

5:00 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Adventure  Parade 

Challenge  of  the 

Treasury  Bandstand 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

Capt.  Midnight 

Yukon 

5:30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Superman 

Jack  Armstrong 

The  Chicagoans 

5:45 

Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING   PROGRAMS 


EVENING   PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

John  MacVane 
Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
Talks 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
The  Smoothies 
H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Dinner  Date 

News 

Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Lone  Ranger 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Blondie 

Great  Gildersleeve 

Special  Agent 
High  Adventure 

Original  Amateur 
Hour,  Ted  Macks, 
M.C. 

Mr.  Chameleon 
Dr.  Christian 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 

9:55 

Duffy's  Tavern 

Mr.  District  Attorney 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Hollywood  Story 

Bill  Henry 

Milton  Berle  Show 
Groucho  Marx  Show 

Your  Song  and  Mine 

Harvest  of  Stars 
with  James  Melton 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

The  Big  Story 
Curtain  Time 

Opinion-Aire 
Dance  Orch. 

Bing  Crosby 
Meredith  Willson 

Time's  A-Wastin'! 
Capitol  Cloak  Room 

6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

John  MacVane 
Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
Frontiers  of  Science 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
The  Smoothies 
H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Dinner  Date 

News 

Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Meredith  Willson 
Musical 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 

8:15 
8:30 

Mel  Torme  Show 
Date  With  Judy 

Mysterious  Traveler 
Official  Detective 

Youth  Asks  the 

Government 
Earl  Godwin 
America's  Town 

Meeting  of  the  Air 

Mystery  Theatre 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  North 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 

9:55 

Bob  Hope  Show 

Fibber  McGee  & 
Molly 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Under  Arrest 

Bill  Henry 

Edwin  D.  Canham 

We,  The  People 
"Life  With  Luigi" 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Big  Town 
People  Are  Funny 

Public  Defender 
Dance  Orchestra 

NAM  Series 
Labor  U.  S.  A. 

Hit  The  Jackpot 

Morey  Amsterdam 
Show 

JACK  McELRO"^got  his  start  in 
radio  seventeen  years  ago  when  he 
substituted  for  an  announcer  who 
didn't  show  up  for  a  broadcast.  Now, 
Jack,  who  tips  the  scales  at  245  pounds, 
is  the  M.C.  of  Breakfast  in  Holly- 
wood, heard  Mon.-Fri.  on  ABC  sta- 
tions. He  is  married  to  the  former 
Nancy  Hurd,  who  was  one  of  the 
first  women  staff  announcers  in  radio. 


A.IV1. 

NBC 

IVIBS 

ABC 

CUS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  Vou  Remember 

Local  Programs 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 
Clevelandaires 

Editor's  Diary 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Bob  Poole  Show 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
The  Brighter  Day 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Dorothy  Kilgallen 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 

11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 

Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 
Gabriel  Heatter's 

Mailbag 
Minute  Quiz 

Kay  Kyser 
Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

DONALD  VOORHEES  -silver-haired 
conductor  on  NBC's  Telephone  Hour 
is  known  among  the  trade  as  a  "musi- 
cian's musician,"  and  has  attracted  to 
his  orchestra  some  of  the  finest  instru- 
mentalists in  the  country.  His  hobby 
is  raising  Scotch  terriers,  of  which  at 
one  time  he  had  150;  he  often  acts  as 
judge  at  dog  shows  in  New  York  City. 


M 


AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Hark  n  ess  of  Wash- 
ington 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smitn  Speaks 
Kate  Smith  Sings 

Luncheon  at  Sardi's 

Welcome  Travelers 
Maggi  McNeills 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

Art  Van  Damme 

Quartet 
Robert  McCormick 
Jack  Kilty 

Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Bill  Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 
The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 

Today's  Children 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  For  a  Day 
Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bkfst.  in  Hllywd. 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Show 
Heart's  Desire 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
Galen  Drake 

David  Harum 
Hilltop  House 
House  Party 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Misc.  Programs 
Johnson  Family 
Misc.  Programs 
Two  Ton  Baker 

Second  Honeymoon 
Treasury  Band  Show 

Hint  Hunt 
Winner  Take  All 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Adventure  Parade 
Capt.  Midnight 
Superman 
Tom  Mix 

The  Green  Hornet 
Sky  King 

Treasury  Bandstand 

The  Chicagoans 
Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

Sketches  in  Melody 
Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 

Of  Men  and  Books 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
Art  Van  Damme 
Quintet 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 
Dinner  Date 
News 
Inside  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Final  Edition 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 

Aldrich  Family 
Burns  and  Allen 

Talent  Jackpot 
Better  Half  Quiz 

Abbott  and  Costello 
To  Be  Announced 

The  F.B.I,  in  Peace 

and  War 
Mr.  Keen 

19:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:55 

Al  Jolson  Show 
Dorothy  Lamour 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Revere  Revue 
Bill  Henry 

Child's  World 

Suspense 

Crime  Photographer 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Screen  Guild  Theatre 
Fred  Waring  Show 

Family  Theatre 
Dance  Orch. 

Local  Programs 

Hallmark  Playhouse 
First  Nighter 

A.IV1. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

Local  Programs 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 
Clevelandaires 

Editor's  Diary 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Bob  Poole  Show 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
The  Brighter  Day 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Cracker  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
The  Listening  Post 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 

11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 

Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 
Gabriel  Heatter's 

Mailbag 
Minute  Quiz 

Kay  Kyser 
Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

The  Betty  Harris 
Show 

Kate  Smith  Sings 

Aunt  Jenny               J 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

Luncheon  At  Sardi's 

Maggi  McNeills 

Helen  Trent             ' 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

Milton  Katim's  Show 

Cedric  Foster 

Bill  Baukhage 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Happy  Gang 

Nancy  Craig 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Jack  Kilty 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

2:00 

Double  or  Nothing 

Queen  For  A  Day 

Bkfst.  in  Hllywd. 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Today's  Children 

Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

David  Harum 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

Show 

Hilltop  House 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Heart's  Desire 

Galen  Drake 

House  Party 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Misc.  Programs 

Second  Honeymoon 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Misc.  Programs 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Winner  Take  All 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Two  Ton  Baker 

5:00 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Adventure  Parade 

Challenge  of  the 

Treasury  Bandstand 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

Capt.  Midnight 

Yukon 

5:30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Superman 

Jack  Armstrong 

The  Chicagoans 

5:45 

Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


CATHY  LEWIS— who  plays  the  role 
of  Jane  in  My  Friend,  Irma,  was  doing 
small  parts  in  motion  pictures  and 
not  getting  anywhere  when  a  CBS  pro- 
ducer encouraged  her  to  try  radio. 
She  did,  and  was  a  success  in  shows 
such  as  Suspense  and  Sam  Spade. 
Now,  married  to  Elliott  Lewis,  the 
two,  busy  as  they  arc  as  an  acting 
team,   double   as   a   writing   team,   too. 


6:00 

News 

Eric  Sevareid 

6:15 

Sketches  in  Melody 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Report  from  the 

6:30 

United  Nations 

6:45 

Sunoco  News 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 

Chesterfield  Club 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Headline  Edition 

Beulah 

7:15 

News  of  the  World 

Dinner  Date 

Elmer  Davis 

Jack  Smith  Show 

7:30 

Henry  J.  Taylor 

Lone  Ranger 

Club  15 

7:45 

H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Inside  of  Sports 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 

Cities  Service  Band 

Great  Scenes  From 

The  Fat  Man 

Jack  Carson  Show 

8:15 

Of  America 

Great  Plays 

8:30 

Jimmy  Durante 
Show 

Leave  It  to  the  Girls 

This  Is  Your  FBI 

Mr.  Ace  and  Jane 

9:00 

Eddie  Cantor  Show 

Gabriel  Heatter 

Break  the  Bank 

Ford  Theatre 

9:15 

Radio  Newsreel 

9:30 

Red  Skelton  Show 

Lionel  Hampton 

The  Sheriff 

9:45 

Show 

10:00 

Life  of  Riley 

Meet  the  Press 

Boxing  Bouts 

Everybody  Wins, 

10:15 

Phil  Baker 

10:30 

Sports 

Dance  Orch. 

Spotlight  Revue 

A.IV1. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Story  Shop 

Mind  Your  Manners 

Robert  Hurleish 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Shoppers  Special 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

Garden  Gate 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 
10:45 

Mary  Lee  Taylor 
Archie  Andrews 

Bill  Harrington 
Misc.  Programs 

This  Is  For  You 

Johnny  Thompson 
Saturday  Strings 

Red  Barber's  Club- 

House 
Mary  Lee  Taylor 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

Meet  the  Meeks 
Smilin'  Ed  McConnell 

Movie  Matinee 
Teen  Timer's  Club 

Abbott  and  Costello 

Don  Gardiner 
Buddy  Weed 

Lets  Pretend 
Junior  Miss 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 
12:30 
12:45 

Arthur  Barriault 
Public  Affairs 

Coffee  in  Congress 

Magic  Rhythm 

This  Week  in  Wash- 
ington 

Junior  Junction 
American  Farmer 

Theatre  of  Today 
Grand  Central 
Station 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

Nat'l  Farm  Home 

Edmond  Tomlinson 
Report  From  Europe 

Smoky  Mt.  Hayride 

Maggi  McNeills, 

Herb  Sheldon 

Piano  Playhouse 

County  Fair 
Give  and  Take 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Music  For  The 
Moment 

Time  For  Melody 
Music.  Opera 

Football 

Stars  Over  Holly- 
wood 
Football 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Local  Programs 

Oell  Trio 
Music 

Football 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Local  Programs 

Music 

Charlie  Slocum 
First  Church  of 
Christ  Science 

Local  Programs 

Football 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 

5:45 

Lassie  Show 

Take  A  Number 
True  or  False 

Tea  and  Crumpets 

Melodies  to  Remem- 
ber 
Dorothy  Guldheim 

Chuck  Foster's 

Orch. 
Make  Way  For 

Youth 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

Peter  Roberts 
Art  of  Living 
NBC  Symphony 

Dance  Orchestra 

Jack  Beall 

News  from  Wash- 
ington 

Memo  From  Lake 
Success 

Saturday  Sports 
Review 

Larry  Lesueur 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Vic  Damone,  Hollace 
Shaw 

Hawaii  Calls 

Robert  Hurliegh 
Mel  Allen 

Treasury  Bond  Show 
Famous  Jury  Trials 

Camel  Caravan  with 
Vaughn  Monroe 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Hollywood  Star 
Theatre 

Truth  or  Conse- 
quences 

Twenty  Questions 

Stop  Me  If  You've 
Heard  This  One 

Johnny  Fletcher 

The  Amazing  Mr. 
Malone 

Sing  It  Again 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Your  Hit  Parade 
Judy  Canova  Show 

Life  Begins  at  80 

Gang  Busters 
What's  My  Name? 

Winner  Take  All 

It  Pays  To  Be 
Ignorant 

10:00 
10:15 

10:30  ' 

Day  in  the  Life  of 
Dennis  Day 

Grand  Ole  Opry 

Theatre  of  the  Air 

Whiz  Quiz  With 
Johnny  Olsen, 
M.C. 

Hayloft  Hoedown 

Hometown  Reunion 

National  Guard  Mili- 
tary Ball 

BARBARA  LUDDY— might  have 
been  a  professional  singer  instead  of 
the  top-notch  radio  actress  on  First 
Nighter  (Thursdays,  CBS)  if  her  voice 
hadn't  failed  her  when  she  was  eleven. 
Barbara  is  so  small  (all  of  410")  that 
she  needs  a  box  to  reach  the  mike 
when    playing    with    any    tall    actors. 


Genuine    FM    set    at 

$29.95,  Emerson's  602  is  a  real  find. 


If  you  are 
wary  of  make- 
shift or  "super- 
egen"  receivers, 
hie  yourself  to 
the  nearest  radio 
store  and  listen 
to  the  excellent 
tone  quality  and 
wide  range  of 
pitch  of  the 
Emerson  602— 
the  lowest- 
priced  FM  set  on 
the  market.  This 
handsome     table 

model  goes  under  the  name  of  the  "Conqueror"  and 
retails  for  only  $29.95.  Its  good  looks  and  fine  recep- 
tion make  it  a  real  find  for  lovers  of  good  music. 


Most  unusual  of 
the  recent  develop- 
ments in  television 
is  the  Olymnic  "Du- 
plicator." The  "Du- 
plicator" is  nothing 
more  nor  less  than 
portable  television. 
By  connecting  the 
portable  set  to  the 
master  teleset,  you 
can  duplicate  the 
picture  and  sound 
in  any  room  in  the 
house  or  in  every 
room  in  the  house. 
The  "Duplicator"  is 
completely  auto- 
matic with  only  an 
on /off  control  and 
a  54"  screen  in  a 
mahogany  cabinet. 
Because  of  the  un- 
complicated wiring 
connections  it  can  be  easily  moved  from  one  part 
of  the  room  to  the  other  when  you  feel  the  urge 
to  shift  the  furniture   around. 


In  1938,  the  Wilcox-Gay  company  introduced  the 
Wireless  record  player,  and  now  10  years  later  the 
company  announces  a  new  Wireless  player  for 
"Micro  groove"  recordings — the  new  33  Vs  r.p.m.  discs 
that  have  created  such  a  furor  in  the  record  industry. 

The  Wilcox  Gay  Wireless  instrument  plays 
through  any  and 
all  home  radios 
without  connect- 
ing cables.  No 
tampering  with 
radio  wiring  is 
necessary  and 
there  are  no  in- 
stallation prob- 
lems or  expenses. 
One  of  the  many 
features  of  this 
new  instrument 
is  its  wide  range 
response.  The 
cost  is  onlv 
a  modest  $29.95. 


At   last:    portable    TV    and    a    54" 
screen — the  Olympic  "Duplicator.'' 


For    your    long-playing    records:    the 
Wilcox-Gay  Micro-groove  phonograph. 


Anne  Whitfield,  at  10,  has  behind  her  a  career  many  a  mature  actress 
might  envy,  ahead  of  her  a  future  that  seems  very  close  to  limitless. 


THREE  years  ago  Anne  Whitfield  stepped  up  on  a  box 
before  an  already  lowered  mike  in  an  NBC  studio  and 
said,  "I  want  another  slice  of  bread."  It  might  make  a 
better  story  to  add  that  Anne  was  a  hungry  little  waif 
who  read. the  line,  from  experience,  with  great  feeling 
but  such  was  not  the  case.  For  rosy-cheeked  Anne  was  a 
brand-new  seven,  a  brand-new  Californian,  and  a  brand- 
new  radio  actress  reading  her  first  commercial. 

Since  that  Sunday  in  September  1945,  Anne  has  been 
on  450  radio  shows;  she  has  had  seven  ruruiing  parts,  has 
played  eighteen  leads,  and  supporting  roles  to  most  of 
Hollywood's  radio  and  movie  stars;  and  she  has  made 
guest  appearances  in  Chicago,  New  York  and  the  South. 

Arriving  in  Hollywood  in  August  1945  without  an  ac- 
quaintance, personal  or  professional,  and  minus  custom- 
ary letters  of  introduction,  Anne's  story  denies  the  well- 
worn  show-business  "You-have-to-know-somebody." 

"In  my  naive  fashion,"  her  mother,  Frances,  now  mar- 
vels, "we  knocked  on  some  pretty  important  doors." 

Carlton  Morse's  opened  in  response  to  a  letter  Mrs. 
Whitfield  had  written  the  producer,  and  for  an  hour  Anne 
read  Margaret's  lines  from  One  Man's  Family  scripts  while 
Mr.  Morse  looked  impressed. 

The  following  Sunday  Anne  asked  for  another  slice  of 
bread  in  the  show's  commercial;  two  Sundays  later  she 
became  Penny,  script-daughter  of  Claudia  (Barbara 
Fuller)  and  Nicholas  (Tom  Collins) .  By  the  time  the 
character  of  Penny  was  well  established,  Anne  was  play- 
ing three  roles  weekly  in  top  NBC  shows. 

By  Fall  of  1946  Anne  was  being  called  for  other  shows. 
She  played  daughter  Phyllis  on  the  Phil  Harris-Alice  Faye 
Bandwagon;  she  was  on  Lux  Radio  Theater,  Screen  Guild, 
Family  Theater  and  Cavalcade  of  America;  and  she 
learned  a  great  deal  from  the  variety  of  direction  and  the 
performances  of  the  distinguished  succession  of  stars  in 
the  shows. 

The  big  secret  of  Anne's  past,  until  the  show  went  off 
the  air,  was  her  last  season's  portrayal  of  Christopher 
Martin,  on  NBC's  daytime  serial  Dr.  Paul.  Anne  replaced 
Henry  Blair.  A  director  who  had  noticed  a  similarity  of 
voice  quality  when  Anne  and  Henry  appeared  on  a  Red 


Cross  Show  suggested  her  for  the  part.  But  Dr.  Paul  was 
not  an  audience  show  and  Anne  never  disclosed  the  fact 
that  she  was  Chris  "Because  he  was  a  very  nice  little  boy 
and  I  didn't  want  people  thinking  he  was  a  sissy!" 

On  Doorway  to  Life,  Anne  was  also  occasionally  cast  as 
a  very  small  boy.  And  Doorway,  with  its  succession  of 
neurotic  children  in  featured  roles,  became  Anne's  favorite 
show  because,  she  admits,  like  any  other  actor,  "my  parts 
were  always  fatter  and  I  got  to  yell  and  scream  and  cry!" 

Anne's  favorite  running  role,  which  she  proudly  re- 
members as  her  "heavy,"  was  Pamela  Richardson,  the 
banker's  (Alan  Reed)  snobbish  daughter  on  Baby  Snooks. 

Long  rehearsals  hold  no  weariness  for  Anne.  Her 
sensitive  ear  is  pricked  for  inflection,  timing  and  voice 
quality.  Most  of  the  dialects  she  has  learned  from  listen- 
ing to  grown-up  actors  during  rehearsals.  If  her  part  is 
small,  she  sometimes  knits  as  she  listens  .  .  .  "Argyle  sox, 
like  the  big  actresses  make." 

On  one  occasion  Anne  pulled  a  tooth  just  three  minutes 
before  air-time  for  the  Jack  Carson  Show  because  she 
had  a  fast-talking  mouthful  of  words  to  get  out  all  in  one 
breath  and  the  tooth  was  so  loose  she  became  afraid  it 
might  "wobble."  And  once  she  was  written  out  of 
Cavalcade  of  America  because  she  was  supposed  to  sing 
with  Rob^  Young,  but  Bob  felt  silly  singing  in  his  role  as 
editor  of  the  New  York  Times  and  ordered  the  change. 

Anne  thinks  radio  is  wonderful,  the  most  de  luxe  brand 
of  playing  make-believe,  and  it's  such  grand  fun  wonder- 
ing what  kind  of  little  girl — or  boy — the  next  show's 
script  will  call  for.  She  loves  4o  double  and  ad  lib,  but  she 
prizes  a  tag  line  or  a  lead  as  would  any  seasoned  trouper! 
Now  ten,  and  in  the  sixth  grade,  Anne  attends  Rosewood 
Avenue  Public  School,  and  Sunday  School  at  the  First 
Baptist  Church  of  Los  Angeles.  She  likes  to  ride  and 
skate  and  play  with  her  cat,  "Parky"  and  Cocker,  "Asa." 
Her  current  hobby  is  a  butterfly  collection,  and  she  speaks 
authoritatively  on  the  subject,  mentioning  six-syllable 
names  and  tracing  life  cycles  glibly.  Rare  specimens  from 
friends  and  fans  over  the  country  receive  special  attention 
in  mounting  and  classifying;  but  her  most  cherished  am- 
bition is  to  "raise  my  own  butterflies  from  caterpillars." 


THE  MAGIC  THAT  IS  YOU LIVES  IN  YOUR  FACE 


Mrs. 
hilen  luck  jdstor 


You  see  her,  and  you  feel  the  special 
quality  of  her  charm.  For  her  lovely 
face  brings  you  the  glamour,  and  dis- 
tinction, and  warm  responsiveness  that 
are  so  much  a  part  of  her  inmost  self. 

So  much  that  is  You  speaks  for  you  in 
your  face.  It  is  the  out-going  expression 
oiyour  inner  self — the  you  that  others 
see  first — and  the  you  they  remember 
best.  Do  help  your  face,  then,  to  look 
clear  and  bright  and  lovely — so  it  can 
express  you  happily. 


iiJeJ 


Mrs.  Aat:f>r*9  beautiful  skm  has  the  clear,  smooth  look  of  faultless  grooming 


(ly^n^M  / 


To  my  mind there  is  Just  no  better Juce  cream, 

Airs.  Astor  says 


Your  face  has  a  fascinating  way  of  tell- 
ing the  story  of  You.  And — your  face  is 
what  you  make  it !  Never  let  your  skin  lose 
its  soft  color,  get  a  grayed  look.  Always  at 
bedtime  (for  day  cleansings,  too)  do  this 
"Outside-Inside"    Face    Treatment   with 
your  Pond's  Cold  Cream.  This  is  the  ivay: 
Hot  Stimulation — splash  face  with  hot  water. 
Cream  Cleanse — swirl  Pond's  Cold  Cream  all 
over  your  face.  This  will  soften  and  sweep  dirt 
and  make-up  from  pore  openings.  Tissue  oif. 
Cream  Rinse — swirl  on  a  second  Pond's  cream- 
ing. This  rinses  off  last  traces  of  dirt,  leaves  skin 
lubricated,  immaculate.  Tissue  off. 
Cold  Stimulation — a   tonic   cold  water   splash. 


See  your  face  now!  It  looks  and  feels 
re-made!  So  clean  and  rosy!  So  very  soft! 

Literally,  this  Pond's  "Outside-Inside" 
Face  Treatment  acts  on  both  sides  of  your 
skin.  From  the  Outside — Pond's  Cold  Cream 
wraps  around  surface  dirt,  as  you  massage 
— sweeps  it  cleanly  away,  as  you  tissue  off. 
From  the  Inside — every  step  quickens 
beauty-giving  circulation. 

It's  not  just  vanity  to  develop  the  beauty 
of  your  face.  Look  lovely  and  it  slips  over 
into  how  you  think  and  feel  and  act.  It 
gives  you  a  happy  confidence — brings  the 
real  Inner  You  closer  to  others. 


Pond's — used  by  more  women  than  any  other 
face  creams.  Today — get  this  favorite  big^ 
dressing-table    size   of   Pond's    Cold    Cream. 


R 

M 

6P 


A  Heart  as  Big  as  His  Nose 

(Continued  -from  page  27) 


qert  fum  Shakespeah,  a  nose  smells  as 
good  wid  any  utter  name." 

Those  were  the  thin  days,  but  not  for 
long.  In  a  few  months  word  spread 
throughout  New  York  of  the  new  come- 
dian who  was  rolling  them  out  of  their 
chairs.  The  paying  customers  came — 
and  also  the  moochers. 

The  moochers  lined  up  at  the  stage 
door  every  night,  but  Jimmy  wouldn't 
let  us  send  them  away.  They  always 
got  a  few  dollars,  sometimes  five,  some- 
times twenty-five.  Jimmy's  big  heart 
became  as  famous  as  his  nose  and  each 
night  the  handout  line  got  longer. 
Sometimes  there  were  twenty  men  with 
outstretched  hands.  It  became  big  busi- 
ness for  the  bums  and,  I  am  told,  a  few 
of  them  even  incorporated  and  began 
to  file  tax  reports.  It  wasn't  uncommon 
for  a  tramp  to  slide  up  to  a  buddy  and 
whisper,  "I'll  take  you  where  you  can 
get  a  few  bucks  but  you  got  to  split 
with  me." 

They  all  came  to  Durante  and  they're 
still  coming.  When  it's  a  worthwhile 
cause,  he  lays  out  his  cash  and  heart. 

And  in  all  of  these  many  years  of 
success,  he  has  thrived  on  work  and 
help  for  the  other  guy.  His  vacations 
come  in  snatches  and  for  him  they  are 
days  to  relax  and  rest.  But  even  a 
cruise  or  fishing  trip  is  decided  on  the 
spur  of  the  moment  without  planning 
or  regard  to  consequences. 

Back  in  1931,  Jimmy  was  staying  at 
his  now  famous  Suite  472  in  the  Hotel 
Astor.  As  he  walked  through  the  lobby 
and  passed  the  travel  bureau,  he  be- 
came entranced  by  a  huge  diagram  on 
the  wall. 

"What's  dat?"  he  asked  the  clerk. 

"That's  a  pleasure  ship.  It  makes  a 
three  day  cruise  to  Bermuda." 

"Plesha  ship!  Fuh  how  much?" 
Jimmy  asked. 

"Well,  the  minimum  rate  is  $85,"  the 
clerk  said. 

"Whaddye  get  fuh  $85  minimum?" 

Gleaming  with  salesmanship,  the 
clerk  said,  "For  the  minimum  you  get 
nice  rooms  with  real  luxury." 

"Enough    chit    about    chat,"    Jimmy 


said.    "Gimme   six   tickets,   minimum." 

"The  ship  leaves  in  three  hours,"  the 
clerk  said. 

"Okay,  okay,"  Jimmy  shrugged. 

He  called  Jack  Roth,  his  sister  who 
has  two  kids,  and  me.  He  told  us  all, 
'Meet  me  in  free  hours  at  the  pier." 
That's  all  he  said.  Three  hours  later  we 
all  arrived. 

"We're  goin'  on  a  plesha  trip,"  he 
announced.    "T'ree   days   minimum." 

Up  the  gangplank  we  went  without 
baggage,  without  a  change  of  clothes  or 
even  the  humble  toothbrush.  Jimmy 
showed  his  tickets  to  one  of  the  stew- 
ards and  was  directed  to  a  gangway. 
We  began  descending  to  our  cabins.  One 
flight,  two  flights,  six  flights — all  down. 
Finally,  we  found  our  quarters.  The 
rooms  were  so  small  only  one  of  us 
could  walk  in  at  a  time.  It  was  so  hot 
I  could  smell  the  rubber  burning  in  my 
suspenders. 

"So  dis  is  strickly  minimum,"  Jimmy 
said  and  angrily  stomped  up  the  gang- 
way. 

"Send  me  duh  poiser,"  Jimmy  told  a 
steward  and  dropped  into  a  deck  chair. 

When  the  purser  arrived,  he  greeted 
Jimmy  like  a  long  lost  brother. 

"Mr.  Durante,  would  you  mind  sing- 
ing a  few  songs  for  the  passengers 
during  the  voyage?"  he  asked. 

"Foist,  I  wanna  see  anudder  cabin," 
Jimmy  said.  "Now  youse  got  me  sleepin' 
in  da  closet." 

He  walked  off  with  the  purser  and 
when  he  came  back,  he  was  all  smiles. 

"We  got  da  King's  soot,"  he  an- 
nounced proudly.  "Yuh  press  a  button 
and  everyting  falls  in." 

It  was  on  that  trip  he  discovered  the 
ocean  didn't  agree  with  him.  When  the 
sea  got  a  little  rough,  he  retired  dis- 
gruntled to  his  buiik.  That  was  the  last 
voyage  we  took  for  five  years. 

In  the  meantime,  Jimmy  rapidly  rose 
to  the  top  layer  of  the  entertainment 
field.  And  with  stardom  in  big  theaters, 
musical  comedies,  radio  and  Hollywooc^, 
we  began  to  hop,  skip  and  slide  all 
over  the  world. 

But    what    happened    to    us    in    our 


The  Freedom  Pledge 


oy^  am  an  American.  A  free  American. 

Free  to  speak— without  fear, 

Free  to  worship  God  in  my  own  way, 

Free  to  stand  for  what  I  think  right, 

Free  to  oppose  what  I  believe  wrong. 

Free  to  choose  those  who  govern  my  country. 

This  heritage  of  Freedom  I  pledge  to  uphold 

For  myself  and  all  mankind. 


A  Public  Service  Proi.cl  of  The  Advt 


R 
M 

70 


me£i>o/n  /s  ey£Ryeoi>ys  joe/ 


travels  not  only  shouldn't  happen  to  a 
dog  but  often  does. 

In  1936,  we  took  the  act  to  England, 
Ireland,  Scotland  and  Italy.  Outside  of 
a  few  shaky  moments,  Jimmy's  stom- 
ach held  up  crossing  tlie  Atlantic.  But 
from  England  we  had  to  cross  the  Irish 
Sea  and  open  in  Dublin. 

When  we  boarded  the  ship  and  found 
our  stateroom,  there  was  a  bucket  next 
to  each  berth. 

"Izzit  gonna  be  rough?"  Jimmy 
asked,  paling. 

"The  Irish  Sea  is  always  rough,"  Jack 
Roth  said,  and  kicked  his  bucket  aside. 
"But  I  never  get  seasick." 

"Yer  revoltin',"  Jimmy  said. 

"I  got  sea  legs,"  Roth  told  him. 

Jimmy  dropped  dolefully  on  his  bunk 
murmuring,  "I  wisht  I  got  dem  seedy 
legs." 

The  next  morning  when  the  ship  be- 
gan to  pitch,  he  pulled  the  blankets  up 
to  his  neck,  glaring  as  Roth  and  I  went 
off  to  breakfast. 

ROTH  joked  about  Jimmy  as  we  drank 
our  juice.  The  ship  was  rising  and 
falling  underneath  us.  But  when  our 
eggs  got  to  the  table,  Roth  shut  up.  I 
looked  at  him.  The  color  was  draining 
from  his  cheeks. 

"Excuse  me,"  he  said  suddenly  and 
dashed  out  of  the  dining  room. 

I  followed  and  by  the  time  he  got  to 
the  cabin  his  face  was  as  green  as  St. 
Patrick's  Day.  Jimmy  poked  his  head 
out  of  the  blanket  in  time  to  see  Roth 
dive  for  one  of  the  buckets. 

"Gettin'  seedsick.  Jack?"  he  asked 
gleefully. 

Roth,  the  hardy  searaian,  wouldn't 
give  in. 

"It's  just  nerves,"  he  said.  "I  didn't 
sleep  well  last  night." 

We  got  a  grand  reception  in  Dublin 
and  packed  the  house  at  every  perform- 
ance. After  one  show,  some  members 
of  the  renowned  Dublin  Players  called 
in  Jimmy's  dressing  room. 

For  two  hours  they  talked  to  Jimmy, 
intellectualizing  about  the  modern 
theater  and  interpreting  his  perform- 
ance in  three-syllable  words,  minimum. 
Jimmy  floundered,  smiling  and  nod- 
ding his  head.  When  they  left,  he 
dropped  back  on  the  couch,  exhausted. 

"My  flabber  is  gasted,  Eddie,"  he  said. 
"Wuz  dey  knockin'  or  praisin'  me?" 

The  next  step  was  Glasgow.  The 
Scots  loved  Jimmy  and  one  night  Harry 
Lauder,  the  Scottish  comedian,  was  in 
the  theater.  He  came  up  on  the  stage 
and  got  into  the  act.  Then  he  invited 
Jimmy  to  his  castle.  There,  two  of  the 
world's  greatest  comedians  put  on  a 
five-star  performance,  playing  their 
own  songs  for  each  other. 

Scotsmen,  like  all  the  rest,  spotted 
Jimmy  for  his  kind  heart.  There  was 
the  cab  driver  who  appeared  in  his 
room  one  morning  and  explained  that 
a  bunch  of  kids  had  broken  his  window 
when  he  was  hauling  Jimmy  from  the 
theater.  The  new  window  cost  him 
fifteen  shillings.  Jimmy  not  only  paid 
him  in  full  for  the  window  but  also 
made  up  the  half  day's  work  that  the 
driver  lost  while  the  cab  was  being 
repaired. 

Jimmy's  heart's  so  big  that  it's  a 
wonder  he  has  the  strength  to  carry 
it  around.  And  when  people  do  some- 
thing for  him,  he  falls  over  himself 
showing  his  appreciation. 

Take  the  partj^  he  threw  for  news- 
papermen in  London.  For  most  enter- 


tainers  it's  standard  practice  in  New 
York  or  Hollywood  or  London  to  set  up 
a  cocktail  party  for  the  press  before  a 
show  opens,  jimmy  didn't  stop  there. 
Because  the  reporters  were  so  enthu- 
siastic about  his  act  at  the  Palladium,  he 
took  over  a  ballroom  when  the  show 
closed  and  staged  a  shindig  that  is  re- 
membered to  this  day. 

The  party  wasn't  without  its  humor- 
ous climax.  Several  days  later  when 
we  were  on  a  train  in  Italy,  Jimmy 
turned  to  me,  his  bosom  heaving  with 
pride. 

"Dem  London  reporters  sure  appre- 
shiated  dat  party,"  he  said,  clucking  his 
tongue.  "Pernt  yer  eyes  at  dese  Italian 
papers." 

He  pushed  the  newspapers  at  me. 
Neither  one  of  us  could  read  Italian 
but  there  was  the  name  of  Durante  on 
the  front  page,  the  inside  columns  and 
even  on  the  comic  page.  Then  he 
picked  up  another  paper  and  we  found 
the  same  thing  again. 

"It  warms  da  cocktails  of  muh  heart," 
he  muttered,  his  eyes  shining.  "T'ink 
I'll  amble." 

Roth  and  I  watched  him  strutting 
down  the  aisle,  both  of  us  pleased  with 
the  advance  publicity.  Suddenly  Jimmy 
came  tearing  down  the  aisle. 

"Get  da  engineer,  da  king,  da  presi- 
dent— anyone  who  kin  speak  English." 

We  found  the  conductor  and  Jimmy 
hurried  him  back  to  the  washroom.  The 
conductor  was  bewildered  as  Jimmy 
led  him  into  the  toilet.  Printed  on  the 
wall  was  a  notice  in  Italian  that  began, 
"Durante  .  .  ." 

"What's  da  woid  Durante  mean?" 
Jimmy  demanded. 

"Durante  means  during,"  said  the 
conductor  in  broken  English.  "The 
words  on  the  wall  say,  'During  the  time 
the  train  is  in  the  statio".  do  not — '  " 

"Stop!  Dat's  enough,"  Jimmy 
screamed  and  collapsed  in  violent 
laughter. 

JIMMY  allows  himself  one  big  preju- 
dice, but  it's  not  against  man.  It's  air- 
planes. When  he  sees  a  ship  overhead, 
he  stares  at  it  with  deep  distrust,  with 
the  look  of  a  man  who  doesn't  believe 
his  eyes  and  anytime  at  all  expects  the 
plane  to  crash  at  his  feet.  With  Jack 
Roth  and  me  it's  pari-mutuel.  We  con-, 
cur  with  Jimmy  one  hundred  percent. 

But  on  two  different  occasions  he 
persuaded  himself  to  fly.  Five  years  ago 
he  had  to  make  a  hurried  trip  to  New 
York.  Trembling,  he  got  on  the  plane 
and  happened  to  sit  by  the  late  Boake 
Carter. 

"I  ain't  got  no  confidence  in  flyin'," 
Jimmy  confided. 

"Don't  worry,"  Carter  said.  "A  plane 
can  do  anything  a  bird  can  do." 

"Yeah,"  Jimmy  said.  "Kin  it  take  a 
bath  inna  saucer?" 

Carter  laughed,  but  when  he  saw 
Jimmy  look  out  the  window  and  wince, 
he  realized  his  seat-mate  wasn't  kid- 
ding. 

"Now,  look,  Jimmy,"  Carter  said. 
"I've  traveled  over  a  hundred  thousand 
miles  by  air.  It's  as  safe  as  on  the 
ground.  Just  as  safe  as  if  you  were  in 
a  car." 

"Tell  me,"  Jimmy  asked  sadly,  "if 
anvt'ing  happens,  kin  dey  fix  a  flat  up 
here?" 

Jimmy's  second  excursion  by  air  oc- 
curred after  we  did  our  Friday  night 
broadcast  over  NBC.  We  were  in  Ft. 
Worth  and  he  was  grumbling  that  it 
would  take  him  three  days  by  train  to 
get  back  to  Hollywood. 

The  afternon  we  were  to  leave,  he 
walked  into  his  hotel  room  where  Jack 
Roth    and    I    were    chatting.    His    eyes 


II 


I  Test  Fresh  yourself  at  our  expense.  See  if  FRESH  isn't  more  effec- 
tive, creamier,  smoother  than  any  deodorant  you've  ever  tried.  Only  FRESH 
can  use  the  patented  combination  of  amazing  ingredients  which  gives  you 
this  safe,  smooth  cream  that  doesn't  dry  out .  . .  that  really  stops  perspira- 
tion better.  Write  to  FRESH,  Chrysler  Building,  New  York,  for  a  free  jar. 


looked  worried  and  his  voice  was 
strange. 

"I  might  fly  back,"  he  said  suddenly. 

Roth  and  I  just  looked  at  each  other. 

"I  boughta  ticket,"  he  screamed. 
"Dincha  hear  me?" 

Roth  shrugged  his  shoulders  and 
looked  at  me. 

"If  you  want  to  fly,  Jimmy,"  I  said, 
"that's  your  business.  Count  us  out." 

His  voice  became  soft  and  plaintive. 

"Tell  me,  fellas,  am  I  doin'  da  right 
t'ing?" 

He  didn't  wait  for  an  answer  but 
walked  to  the  window.  He  squinted  up 
then  clapped  his  hand  to  his  head. 

"Sky  looks  bad,"  he  muttered.  "Looks 
real  bad." 

He  left  the  bright  sunlight  at  the 
window  and  phoned  the  airport.  He 
canceled  his  ticket  then  walked  back 
to  us. 

"Maybe  I  wuz  hasty,"  he  said 
thoughtfully.  "He  sez  da  sky  looks  good 
at  the  field." 

He  picked  up  the  phone  and  called 
the  airport  again. 

"How's  da  sky  now?"  he  asked.  "Yer 
sure?  .  .  .  okay,  I  fly." 

He  dropped  the  phone  again  and 
walked  over  to  the  window.  He  stared 
along  the  horizon,  his  eyes  squinting 
against  the  sun,  then  followed  the  same 
procedure  at  the  other  windows.  Sud- 
denly he  threw  up  his  hands. 

"Looka  da  sky!  Dere's  a  cloud,"  he 
screamed.  "Da  guy's  crazy.  What's  he 
know  about  a  sky?" 

He  called  the  airport  again  and  can- 
celed his  ticket.  Before  departure  time, 
he  had  canceled  his  reservation  so  often 
that  he  had  to  get  the  permission  of  a 
vice-president  to  board  the  plane. 

But  it  was  Jimmy's  last  air  trip.  A 
short  time  after  they  left  Fort  Worth, 
the  plane  began  to  make  a  huge  circle. 

"We're  going  back  to  Fort  Worth," 
the  hostess  announced. 

Jimmy  grabbed  her  arm. 

"Sump'n  happen?"  he  asked  anxious- 
ly. 


"One  of  the  engines  is  losing  oil  and 
we're  flying  on  only  one  wing." 

"Is  dat  serious?"  Jimmy  persisted. 

The  girl  smiled  sweetly. 

"If  we  get  back  to  Fort  Worth  it 
isn't,"  she  said. 

So  now  we  always  travel  by  train.  It's 
okay  by  us. 

People  respect  Jimmy's  honesty  and 
sincerity,  his  work  in  charity,  his  en- 
tertainment during  the  war  for  soldiers 
and  civilians.  They  pay  tribute  to  him 
in  many  ways.  Not  only  with  scrolls 
and  plaques  but  in  the  way  they  meet 
him  and  open  up  their  homes  for  him. 

A  couple  of  years  ago,  a  publicist 
wanted  to  get  Jimmy  onto  the  field 
before  the  Yale-Harvard  baseball  game 
at  New  Haven.  This  is  a  day  wrapped 
in  tradition  for  Yale.  All  the  old  classes 
convene  and  parade  in  groups  before 
the  stand  of  the  Yale  President.  When 
he  was  told  that  a  Hollywood  actor 
wanted  to  get  into  the  ceremonies, 
President  Seymour  was  polite  but  firm. 

"Sorry,"  he  said.  "Against  all  tradi- 
tion." 

Then  the  publicist  mentioned  Dur- 
ante's  name. 

"Now  that's  different,"  President 
Seymour  said.  "Durante  can  come  up 
here  anytime  he  pleases." 

So  Jimmy  was  made  an  honorary 
member  of  the  Class  of  1913.  He 
marched  in  review  with  his  "class- 
mates." After  the  parade.  President 
Seymour  himself  broke  precedence  by 
leading  a  cheer  for  the  Class  of  1913. 

That  Jimmy  deserves  all  of  this  at- 
tention no  one  will  dispute.  He's  one  of 
the  nicest  guys  in  the  world.  But  with 
his  strong  sense  of  humor,  lie's  also  a 
practical  joker. 

Take  the  night  we  were  on  a  train  to 
Dayton.  He  and  Jack  Roth  and  I  had  a 
drawing  room.  We'd  had  a  long  hard 
day  and  Roth  fell  asleep  at  once,  snoring 
loudly  as  usual.  When  I  fell  asleep, 
Jimmy  was  lying  on  his  berth,  his  eyes 
wide  open.  Suddenly  something 
whacked  my  arm.  It  was  Jimmy. 


STATEMENT    OF   THE    OWNERSHIP,    MANAGEMENT.    CIRCULATION,    ETC.,    REQUIRED    BY    THE 
aPi",  ,"^    CONGRESS    OF    AUGUST    24,    1912.    AND    MARCH    3,    1933.    of    RADIO    MIRROR    published 
Monthly  at  Dunellen,   N.   J.,   for  October  1,    104s 
state  of  New  York        1 
County  of  New  York    )  ^s. 

Before  me,  a  Notary  Public,  in  and  for  the  State  and  county  aforesaid,  personally  appeared  Meyer 
Dworkin,  who,  having  been  duly  sworn  according  to  law,  deposes  and  says  that  he  is  the  Secretary  of 
RADIO  MIRROR  and  that  the  following  is,  to  the  best  of  his  knowledge  and  belief,  a  true  statement 
of  the  ownership,  management  (and  if  a  daily  paper,  the  circulation),  etc..  of  the  aforesaid  publication  for 
the  date  shown  in  the  above  caption,  required  by  the  Act  of  August  24,  1912,  as  amended  by  the  Act  of 
March  3,  1933,  embodied  in  section  537,  Postal  Laws  and  Regulations,  printed  on  the  reverse  of  this  form, 
to  wit : 

1.  That  the  names  and  addresses  of  the  publisher,  editor,  managing  editor,  and  business  manager  are: 
Publisher,  Macfadden  Publications,  Inc.,  205  East  42nd  Street,  New  York  17,  N.  Y. ;  Editor,  Fred  R.  Sammis. 
205  East  42nd  Street,  New  York  17,  N.  Y. ;  Managing  Editor,  Doris  McFerran,  205  East  42nd  Street,  New  York 
17,   N.    Y.;   Secretary,    Meyer   Dwurkin.    205   East   42nd   Street,    New   York   17,   N.    Y. 

2.  That  the  owner  is:  (If  owned  by  a  corporation,  its  name  and  address  must  be  stated  and  also  im- 
mediately thereunder  the  names  and  addresses  of  stockholders  owning  or  holding  one  jser  cent  or  more 
of  total  amount  of  stock.  If  not  owned  by  a  corporation  the  names  and  addresses  of  the  individual  owners 
must  be  given.  If  owned  by  a  firm,  company,  or  other  unincorporated  concern,  its  name  and  address, 
as  well  as  those  of  each  individual  member,  must  be  given.)  Macfadden  Publications,  Inc.,  205  East  42nd 
Street,  New  York  17  N.  Y.  Stockholders  owning  or  holding  one  per  cent  or  more  of  total  amount  of  stock 
in  Macfadden  Publications,  Inc. ;  Orr  J.  Elder,  187  Old  Short  Hills  Road.  Short  Hills,  N.  T. :  King  &  Co.,  c/o  City 
Bank  Farmers  Trust  Co.,  22  William  Street,  New  York  15,  N.  Y. ;  Henry  Lieferant,  54  Riverside  Drive,  New 
York,  N.  Y.;  Carl  M.  Loeb,  Rhodes  &  Co.,  61  Broadway,  New  York,  N.  Y. ;  (Mrs.)  Elizabeth  Machlin,  299 
Park  Avenue,  New  York.  N.  Y.  ;  Meyer  Dworkin.  20";  East  42nd  St..  New  York  17.  N.  Y.  ;  (Mrs.)  Margaret 
Machlin,  Beaver  Dam  Road,  Stratford,  Conn.;  O'Neill  &  Co.,  P.  O.  Box  28 — Wall  Street  Station,  New  York 
N.  Y, ;  Joseph  Schultz,  417  Park  Avenue,  New  York.  N.  Y. :  Arnold  A.  Schwartz,  c/o  A.  A.  Whitford  Inc 
705  Park  Avenue,  Plainfield,  N.  J. ;  Charles  H.  Shattuck,  221  N.  La  Salle  Street,  Chicago,  111. ;  Harold  Wise,  iV 
Mamaroneck  Road.  Scarsdale,  N.  Y. ;  Walston.  Hoffman  &  Goodwin.  265  Montgomery  St.,  San  Francisco,  Calif 

3.  That  the  known  bondholders,  mortgagees  and  other  security  holders  owning  or  holding  1  per  cent 
or  more  of  total  amount  of  bonds,  mortgages,  or  other  securities  are  (If  there  are  none  so  state):  Orr 
T.  Elder.  187  Old  Short  Hills  Road.  Short  Hills,  N.  J.;  Mrs,  Mary  Macfadden,  406  E.  Linden  Avenue,  Englewood 
N.  J.;  Charles  Mendel,  720  West  End  Avenue,  New  York  25,  N.  Y, ;  Charles  H.  Shattuck,  221  N.  La  Salle 
Street,  Chicago,  111.;  O'Neill  &  Co.,  P  O.  Box  28— Wall  St.  Station.  New  York,  N.  Y. ;  City  Bank  Farmer.s 
Trust  Company,  et  al,  22  William  Street,  New  York  IS,  N.  Y.,  a^  Trustees  for:  Beulah  Macfadden,  Beverly 
Macfadden,  Braunda  Macfadden,  Byrnece  Macfadden.  Helen  Macfadden,  Berwyn  Macfadden,  Brewster 
Macfadden,  Mary  Macfadden.  , 

4  'That  the  two  paragraphs  next  above,  giving  the  names  of  the  owners,  stockholders,  and  security 
holders,  if  any,  contain  not  only  the  list  of  stockholders  and  security  holders  as  they  appear  upon  the 
books  of  the  company  but  also,  in  cases  where  the  stockholder  or  security  holder  appears  upon  the  books 
of  the  company  as  trustee  or  in  any  other  fiduciary  relation,  the  name  of  the  person  or  corporation  for 
whom  such  trustee  is  acting,  is  given;  also  that  the  said  two  paragraphs  contain  statements  embracing 
affiant's  full  knowledge  and  belief  as  to  the  circumstances  and  conditions  under  which  stockholders  and 
security  holders  who  do  not  appear  upon  the  books  of  the  company  as  trustees,  hold  stock  and  securities 
in  a  capacity  other  than  that  of  a  bona  fide  owner;  and  this  affiant  has  no  reason  to  believe  that  any  other 
person,  association,  or  corporation  has  any  interest  direct  or  indirect  in  the  said  stock,  bonds,  or 
otlier  securities  than  as  so  stated  by  him. 

5.  That  the  average  number  of  copies  of  each  issue  of  this  publication  sold  or  distributed,  through  the 
mails  or  otherwise,  to  paid  subscribers  during  the  twelve  months  preceding  the  date  shown  above  is  (This 
information    is    required    from    daily    publications    only.) 


Suorn  to  and  subscribed  before  me  this  24th  day  of  September,   1948. 
(SEAL) 


(Signed)    MEYER    DWORKIN. 


TULLIO  MUCELLI, 
Notary  Public.  State  of  New  York, 
Countv  of  Residence,  Bronx.  Bronx  Co 
No.  128.  Reg.  No.  90-M-O.  Cert,  filed  in 
N.  Y.  Co.  No.  530,  Reg.  No.  317-M-O 
Commission  expires   March  30,   1950. 


"Didja  call  me?"  he  asked. 

"I've  been  sleeping,"  I  told  him. 

Jimmy's  eyes  narrowed. 

"Da  trouble  is  youse  guys  ain't  got  a 
t'ing  on  yer  mind.  I  do  da  worryin'," 
he  said,  then  looked  up  at  Roth.  "Lissen 
to  him  snore.  Like  he's  pullin'  da  whole 
train." 

Jimmy  jumped  to  his  feet  and  shook 
Roth. 

"Giddup,"  he  shouted.  "We're  in  Day- 
ton." 

"Gee,  I  didn't  sleep  a  wink  all  night," 
Roth  complained.  "How  soon  will  we 
be  there?" 

"Toity  minutes,"  Jimmy  said. 

Roth  jumped  out  of  his  berth  and 
began  to  slicie  into  his  clothes. 

"I'll  wait  outside  for  you,"  he  said 
and  dragged  his  luggage  and  drums  out 
of  the  room. 

Jimmy  snapped  out  the  lights  and 
crawled  into  bed  and  soon  was  sleeping 
peacefully.  A  few  minutes  later  I  heard 
a  commotion  outside  our  door. 

"You  got  to  get  those  bags  out  of  the 
aisle,"  a  porter  was  telling  Roth. 

"We're  getting  off  at  the  next  stop, 
Dayton,"  Roth  explained. 

There  was  a  brief  pause. 

"We  won't  be  in  Dayton  for  seven 
hours,"  the  porter  said. 

I'EEDLESS  to  say,  Roth  didn't  speak  to 
il  either  of  us  for  several  days.  But  no 
one  can  stay  angry  at  Jimmy  for  long. 
A  week  later,  Jimmy  made  it  up  by 
hauling  Roth  and  myself  off  on  a  fish- 
ing trip. 

Few  people  know  that  Jimmy's  only 
hobby  is  fly  fishing.  He  loves  to  cast 
and  when  his  work  allows,  he'll  drive 
hundreds  of  miles  to  fish  for  a  few 
hours.  One  of  his  classic  remarks  was 
made  when  he  and  Billy  Rose  went 
out  for  trout. 

"You  gotta  get  an  oily  start,"  Jimmy 
reminded  Rose. 

Dutifully,  Rose  woke  him  at  four 
o'clock  in  the  morning  and  as  they 
walked  off  into  the  woods  it  was  still 
dark.  Jimmy  picked  up  a  stick  and 
began  to  beat  every  tree  he  passed. 

"What's  all  the  noise  for?"  Rose 
asked. 

Jimmy  glared  and  whacked  another 
tree. 

"When  Durante's  up,"  he  said,  "no 
boid  sleeps." 

Yes,  Jimmy  wants  everyone  in  the 
act,  even  birds.  What  he  has,  he  wants 
to  share  with  everyone  if  possible.  If 
he  had  Fort  Knox  in  his  hip  pocket,  I 
know  he  would  build  homes  for  every 
needy  person.  He's  already  made  a  good 
start  in  Beverly  Hills.  Near  his  own 
house,  he's  built  homes  for  two 
nephews  and  myself,  and  his  next  pro- 
ject is  a  garage  for  Jack  Roth.  We  call 
the  community  "Duranteville." 

And  even  here  in  Beverly  Hills, 
things  begin  to  happen  when  Jimmy 
travels,  although  it  may  be  only  a  ride 
around  the  block. 

Last  week  we  were  working  very 
hard  on  a  radio  script.  At  four  in  the 
morning  we  finally  knocked  off.  How- 
ever, Jimmy  still  had  to  be  at  his  studio 
early  the  next  day.  At  eight  in  the 
morning,  he  stumbled  out  the  front 
door,  sleepy  and  groggy,  and  dropped 
into  the  back  seat  of  a  cab. 

"Where  to,  Mr.  Durante?"  the  cabby 
asked. 

Jimmy  half  opened  his  eyes. 

"Drive  me  home,"  he  mumbled. 

The  driver  did  a  double  take,  looking 
from  Durante  to  his  house. 

"But  you  are  home,  Mr.  Durante." 

Jimmy  opened  his  eyes,  saw  the 
morning  sun  streaming  over  his  lawn. 

"Gee,"  he  said.  "Dat  wuz  a  short  dai 


Bringing  Up  the  Boys 

(Continued  from  page  33) 

because.  ..." 

Yet  there  are  times  when  even  "No, 
because"  will  not  serve.  One  must  ap- 
peal to  a  child  in  such  a  way,  I  think, 
as  to  give  the  child  a  chance  to  re- 
consider, to  change  his  mind  and  so 
avoid  all  disappointment. 

We  told  David,  "There  is  just  one 
problem:  where  will  you  keep  your 
horse?" 

"In  the  garage,"  he  said  promptly. 

Ozzie  nodded.  "And  where  would 
we  put  the  manger  and  the  watering 
trough,  the  feed  bin  and  his  harness? 
You  know  that  a  horse  must  be 
groomed.  Who  would  curry  and  brush 
him  every  day?  Who  would  put  clean 
straw  in  his  stall  at  night  and  pitch 
it  out  the  next  morning?  Who  would 
haul  away  the  dirty  straw,  and  where 
would  you  store  his  hay?" 

David  started  to  figure.  The  boys 
have  been  taught  that  they  must  be 
responsible  for  their  own  pets.  Up  un- 
til that  moment,  David  had  regarded 
a  horse  in  an  automotive  light  .  .  . 
free  of  some  of  the  more  exasperating 
habits  of  horses.  Faced  with  facts,  he 
quickly  retracted. 

A  few  nights  later  he  said  that  he 
had  decided  no  one  who  didn't  have  a 
farm  should  own  a  horse  .  .  .  wouldn't 
be  fair  to  the  animal. 

We  agreed. 

He  was  very  happy  with  the  bicycle 
he  found  under  the  Christmas  tree. 
He  could  shoe  it  himself. 

EACH  of  the  boys  earns  his  own  pocket 
money.  David  is  paid  $1.00  per  week 
to  dust  the  car  every  morning,  and  on 
Saturday  he  can  earn  an  extra  fifty 
cents  for  washing  the  car.  We  have 
tried  our  best  to  impress  upon  them 
that  money  is  not  something  provided 
by  a  gracious  Nature,  like  sunlight,  but 
something  for  which  human  beings 
must  exchange  their  time,  their  ener- 
gies, and  their  skill. 

Ricky  earns  his  dollar  per  week  by 
turning  down  the  beds  to  air  each  morn- 
ing, opening  the  blinds,  and  hanging 
up  everything  in  his  room  and  in 
David's.  He  does  not  feel  the  slightest 
resentment  about  cleaning  up  David's 
room  as  well  as  his  own,  because  we 
have  explained  that  the  person  for 
whom  the  work  is  done  is  not  the  im- 
portant factor;  what  counts  is  that  one 
has  a  duty  and  does  it  well.  With  their 
incomes  the  boys  buy  their  own  school 
pencils,  their  tablets,  their  comic  books, 
and  pay  their  way  to  the  Saturday 
movie. 

I  know  that  there  is  a  recurrent  par- 
ental doubt  about  the  wisdom  of  allow- 
ing children  to  read  comic  books.  Ours 
read  them  and  apparently  enjoy  them. 
In  the  first  place,  I  think  children  are 
objective  about  such  things.  They  feel 
only  the  excitement  of  action;  they  are 
not  emotionally  developed  to  the  point 
where  they  realize  that  if  forty  Indians 
are  dispatched  by  the  U.S.  Cavalry, 
forty  squaws  are  left  widows  and  at 
least  forty  papooses  are  left  without  a 
father. 

Frankly,  the  things  I  read  as  a  child 
were  just  as  bloodthirsty.  There  was 
a  lovely  story  about  a  girl  who  pretend- 
ed to  die  by  taking  a  sleeping  potion. 
Her  sweetheart  stabbed  himself  beside 
her  body;  when  she  awakened  from  her 
nap,  only  to  find  her  lover  dead,  she 
too  committed  suicide.  Good  gory  tale. 
You  probably  recognize  the  fundamen- 
tals of  'Rorr.eo  and  Juliet."    A  classic. 


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Then  there  was  the  wolf  who  ate 
grandmothers,  the  witch  who  was  al- 
ways turning  princes  into  frogs,  the  ugly 
stepsisters  who  beat  their  little  Cinder- 
ella and  made  her  sleep  in  the  fire- 
place, and  the  bramble  hedge  that 
strangled  anyone  who  tried  to  reach 
Sleeping  Beauty. 

What  do  we  read  today?  "The  Naked 
and  The  Dead"  by  Norman  Mailer,  a 
magnificent  book  about  the  bloodiest 
war  in  history.  Or  "The  Loved  One" 
by  Evelyn  Waugh,  which  deals  with 
mortuary  provisions  for  the  deceased. 
We  live  amid  violence  and  death,  hor- 
rible as  the  fact  is,  but  I  suppose  we 
mi^ht  as  well  be  truthful  about  it. 

Speaking  of  truthfulness,  David 
learned — the  hard  way — that  a  false- 
hood always  catches  up  with  one.  When 
we  moved  him  from  public  school, 
which  was  overcrowded  and  a  little 
difficult  to  reach  from  our  place,  to  a 
tutoring  school,  we  a-^ked  occasionally 
if  he  didn't  have  any  home  work  to  do. 

"No,"  said  DavSd  urbanely.  "No  home 
work." 

110WARD  the  end  of  the  semester  I 
called  at  school  and  wps  told  that 
David's  reading  was  such  that  he  was 
going  to  have  to  go  to  summer  session  in 
oi-der  to  move  on  with  his  class.  The 
teacher  said  regretfully,  "If  only  David 
had  done  his  home  work!" 

Ozzie  and  I  had  a  talk  with  David  at 
the  dinner  table.  We  explained  that  he 
was  going  to  have  to  go  to  summer 
school — while  all  his  friends  were  free 
to  enjoy  themselves — simply  because 
he  had  double-crossed  himself  by  tell- 
ing fibs. 

"We  aren't  doing  this  to  punish  you," 
we  explained.  "We're  sorry  about  it 
bef'ause  we  had  planned  a  number  of 
things  for  all  four  of  us  to  do.  Now, 
we  just  won't  do  them,  so  we're  suffer- 
in?  IS  much  as  you  are.  It  doesn't  pay 
to  ^b  out  of  things  ever." 

David  said  very  little  about  it,  stud- 
ied diligently,  and  suggested  that  the 
th'-ee  of  us  go  on  beach  outings  even 
v'b-^n  he  knew  that  he  had  to  be  in 
Fchool.  We  were  certain  he  had  learned 
his  lesson,  but  to  what  extent  we  dis- 
covered when  we  overheard  him  coach- 
ing his  younger  brother  one  day. 

Demanded  David,  "Why  aren't  you 
doi''g  any  homework  these  days?" 

"Don't  have  any,"  answered  Ricky 
with  elaborate  casualness. 

"Look,  I  went  through  that,"  re- 
sponded David.  "I  didn't  do  my  home 
work  and  I  lost  a  summer.  Don't  be 
as  silly  as  I  was.  If  you  have  some- 
thing to  do,  you'd  better  do  it  instead 
of  getting  out  of  it  by  lying.  It'll  catch 
up  with  you  sure." 

Two  days  later,  by  sheer  coincidence, 
Ricky  had  quite  a  bit  of  homework 
to  do.  He  does  it  under  his  brother's 
approving  eye.  Frequently  David  joins 
him  across  a  study  table  because  David, 
also,  has,  homework. 

Our  boys  have  been  taught  that  waste 
is  sinful.  Ozzie  and  I  believe  that  sheer 
squandering  is  the  cause  of  much  of 
the  woe  of  the  world. 

The  natural  application  of  our  prin- 
ciple in  the  home  is  the  passing  of  Da- 
vid's clothing  down  to  Ricky.  I  know, 
from  conversations  with  my  acquaint- 
ances, that  hand-me-down  clothing  is 
usually  resented  in  a  family.  We  avoid- 
ed any  feeling  of  slight  on  Ricky's  part 
by  saying  from  the  time  he  was  a 
toddler,  "When  you  are  tall  enough  to 
wear  David's  tan  cords,  I  believe  he 
will  give  them  to  you." 
'"  Ricky's  sense  of  partnership  became 
so  strong  that  he  has  always  taken  an 
active  interest  in  his  older  brother's 
74 


wardrobe,  and  now  has  garments  ear- 
marked for  inheritance  long  before 
David  has  outgrown  them.  Ricky's 
conviction  of  being  the  lucky  heir  ap- 
parent makes  him  critical  of  David's 
selections,  of  course,  but  we  have  found 
this  to  be  a  healthy  situation. 

Because  we  remember  from  our  own 
childhood  how  terribly  important  it  is 
for  "a  child  to  be  equipped,  clothed, 
combed  and  even  fed  exactly  like  the 
child's  friends  are — or  at  least  as  he 
thinks  his  friends  are — we  have  allowed 
the  boys  to  select  most  of  their  own 
clothing  without  question.  Many  are 
the  orange  Mickey  Mouse  shirts  and 
the  windmill  beanies  which  we  have 
bought  with  fingers  crossed.  "He'll 
never  wear  it,"  Ozzie  has  muttered  to 
me. 

Usually  the  only  things  not  worn  out 
entirely  were  those  which  we,  in  a 
parental  moment,  decided  would  be 
"right"  for  a  well-dressed  fugitive  from 
the  Apaches. 

There  is  one  very  important  excep- 
tion to  this  rule.  Once  in  awhile  a  boy 
decides  to  acquire  dignity.  This  hap- 
pened to  David.  He  fell  in  love  with  a 
mature-cut  navy  blue  double-breasted 
suit,  and  nothing  anyone  could  say 
would  persuade  him  that  he  wouldn't  be 
the  junior  world's  answer  to  Lucius 
Beebe  in  it. 

We  bought  it  for  him  after  having 
mentioned  our  misgivings. 

Sunday  he  put  on  the  new  suit  and 
went  to  Sunday  school.  When  he  came 
home  he  hurried  to  his  room  and  took 
it  off.  At  dinner  he  said,  "The  other 
kids  don't  wear  suits  like  that.  I  felt 
funny." 

The  script  for  the  children  on  our 
radio  show  (the  parts  played  by  actors) 
is  constantly  checked  against  our  own 
pair  for  authenticity.  There  is  a  con- 
stant tide  in  the  affairs  of  the  young, 
and  to  miss  it  is  to  lose  the  authority  of 
a  natural  force.  For  instance,  two  years 
ago  the  very-young  generation  was  ex- 
pressing approval  by  saying,  "Super." 
A  year  ago  it  was  "neat."  The  jury  is 
still  out  on  this  year's  superlative. 

Ozzie  usually  reads  that  part  of  the 
script  in  which  the  kids  appear  to  David 
and  Ricky.  Feeling  that  something 
was  wrong,  but  not  knowing  exactly 
what,  Ozzie  asked  David  one  night, 
"What  do  you  think  ails  the  dialogue?" 

David  shook  his  head.  "I  don't  know. 
Pop,"  he  said.  "It's  your  show."  And  he 
walked  away,  wearing  a  smile  of  indul- 
gent amusement. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  boys  and  I 
frequently  regard  Mr.  Nelson  with  be- 
wildered delight.    We  have  reason. 

Take,  for  instance,  the  way  in  which 
he  handles  his  cash.  He  is  not  careless, 
really.  He  always — by  osmosis,  I  sus- 
pect— knows  exactly  how  much  money 
he  has.  But  he  carries  it  crash-dive 
fashion.  That  is,  the  instant  he  lays 
hand  on  a  bit  of  currency,  he  crumples 
it  into  a  small  green  ball  and  slides  it 


into  his  pocket.  .  .  .  any  pocket, 

I  never  send  a  suit  of  Ozzie's  to  the 
cleaner  without  going  through  every 
pocket  and  emerging  far  richer. 

Even  with  this  waste-basket  method 
of  handling  our  petty  cash,  Ozzie  fre- 
quently runs  out  of  crumpled  biUs  .  .  . 
particularly  if  we  have  just  decided 
that  there  is  a  movie  we  must  see.  Our 
next  move  is  simple:  we  dash  to  the 
closet  and  start  a  search  through  Ozzie.'s 
clothing.  Here  is  a  remarkable  fact:  we 
have  always  unrumpled  enough  money 
to  take  us  to  a  picture,  or  to  do  any- 
thing else  we  had  in  mind.  It's  a  won- 
derful system  and  I  don't  quite  see  how 
it  works — but  I'm  glad  it  does. 

Considering  the  provocation,  I  am  re- 
markably restrained  in  my  teasing  of 
Ozzie  about  his  haphazard  currency 
habits.  That's  because  he  has  some- 
thing to  worry  me  about. 

For  some  reason  I  don't  seem  to  be 
able  to  keep  my  date  book  accurately. 
I  always  write  down  the  exact  dates, 
places  and  names,  but  more  often  than 
not  something  goes  wrong. 

ONE  Saturday  night  Ozzie  was  la- 
boring over  the  Sunday  script  and  I 
was  patching  a  pair  of  Ricky's  shorts. 
The  telephone  rang  and  when  I  an- 
swered the  forlorn  accents  of  one  of  my 
best  friends,  Ginger  Rogers,  demanded, 
"Have  you  forgotten  my  dinner  party?" 

She  was  giving  a  formal  dinner  hon- 
oring Bennett  Cerf,  to  be  served  at 
eight,  to  eight  persons,  presumably  in- 
cluding the  Nelsons.  We  fell  into  for- 
mal clothing  and  arrived  at  the  Briggs' 
home  about  ninety  minutes  late.  Gin- 
ger forgave  me. 

Several  weeks  later  Ozzie  and  I 
thrust  ourselves  into  our  formal  attire 
and  set  out  for  the  home  of  Dick  and 
Sherry  Burger  where — according  to  my 
date  book — a  fancy  party  was  being 
given.  When  we  arrived  there  wasn't 
a  car  parked  on  the  street,  and  only  the 
den  appeared  to  be  lit. 

"I'm  certain  this  is  the  right  ad- 
dress," I  wailed  to  Ozzie.  However,  we 
drove  to  the  nearest  drug  store  and  I 
telephoned.  Dick  assured  me  that  the 
address  I  had  for  them  was  correct. 

"By  the  way,  what  happened  to  you 
and  Ozzie  last  week?  We  kept  expect- 
ing you  all  evening,"  he  said. 

This  sort  of  thing  fills  me  with  the 
most  horrible  uncertainty.  My  friends 
probably  think  me  addle-pated  when 
I  insist  upon  being  told  the  day  of  the 
week,  the  date,  of  the  month,  and  the 
hour  at  which  an  affair  is  scheduled. 

Ozzie's  attitude  is  always  benevolent. 
"Sometimes  I  feel  as  if  I  were  bring- 
ing you  up,  right  along  with  David 
and  Ricky,"  he  says. 

This  startled  me  somewhat  because  I 
usually  have  the  impression  that  it  is 
I  who  am  bringing  up  Ozzie,  David  and 
Ricky. 

And  I  would  like  to  add  that  it  is  a 
vast  and  ticklish  job. 


Matinee  Idol,  1949 


{Continued  from  page  46) 
was  new  to  me,  as  in  motion  pictures  the  actor  seldom  if  ever  looks  directly  into 
the  camera." 

Lovely  Anne  Gwynne  plays  John's  fast-talking  secretary  in  the  series,  and  the 
one  hundred  and  three  players  who  make  appearances  include  names  like  Beulah 
Bondi,  Lina  Romay,  Mary  Beth  Hughes,  and  Evelyn  Ankers,  among  others.  No 
expense  was  spared  to  make  the  series  technically  and  artistically  perfect,  and  it 
is  said  that  prospective  sponsors  will  have  to  hand  over  an  extremely  pretty  penny 
for  each  half-hour  episode. 

Does  John  Howard  believe  in  the  future  of  television?  The  answer  is  ob- 
vious— he  has  just  formed  his  own  TV  film  production  company  with  Bill  Brighton. 
They  call  themselves  Telamerica  Productions.  So  now  we'll  look  forward  to  the 
private  productions  of  the  Public  Prosecutor. 


My  Husband,  Todd  Russell 

(Continued  from  page  57) 


from  the  middle  west  was  chosen  to 
appear  on  the  broadcast  because  she 
needed  money  to  help  her  baby,  born 
blind  and  deal  An  operation,  to  be  per- 
formed in  New  York  at  a  cost  of  a  thou- 
sand dollars,  seemed  the  only  hope. 
Todd  was  wonderful  with  her  and  she 
answered  the  five  questions  correctly, 
winning  the  maximum  amount  of  $800. 
We  were  all  thrilled.  Todd  told  me 
later  that  before  she  had  finished,  a 
long  distance  call  came  to  the  studio 
from  a  man  in  California  who  offered  to 
pay  for  the  entire  operation,  no  matter 
what  the  cost. 

People  are  wonderful  like  that. 
Many  of  them  send  money  to  help  con- 
testants whose  cases  interest  or  touch 
them  deeply.  Dollar  bills  pour  in  from 
all  over  the  country,  and  fives  and  tens 
are  not  unusual.  A  man  in  Georgia 
heard  a  woman  who  needed  money  to 
visit  her  veteran  husband,  hospitalized 
near  his  city,  and  wrote  to  say  that  he 
and  his  wife  would  be  happy  to  have 
her  and  her  little  girl  as  their  guests 
during  her  visit. 

THE  real  life  stories  we  hear  on  the 
program  and  in  the  thousands  of  let- 
ters that  come  in  have  made  us  realize 
what  a  difference  a  little  money  can 
make.  There  was  one  motherly  old 
soul  who  showed  Todd  how  she  had  to 
eat  with  a  broken  lower  plate  held  to- 
gether with  wads  of  chewing  gum.  It 
may  have  sounded  amusing  to  some 
listeners  but  a  new  plate  was  terribly 
important  to  her.  She  had  worked  and 
scrimped  and  saved  for  three  years  but 
the  hundred  dollars  or  so  it  would  cost 
was  still  way  out  of  reach.  When  she 
won  more  than  was  needed  Todd 
beamed  all  over. 

(And  "all  over"  covers  a  lot  of  terri- 
tory when  you're  talking  about  my 
husband — he  is  six  foot  one  and  is  slow- 
ly getting  his  weight  down  from  225  to 
a  possible  200 — when  I  hide  the  dessert 
from  him.) 

So  many  things  can  come  along  un- 
expectedly to  throw  a  family  off  finan- 
cially, we  have  learned.  There  was  the 
young  couple  who  had  no  home  and  had 
been  living  in  a  trailer  which  burned 
up  with  all  their  possessions,  including 
the  robe  for  the  baby's  christening  that 
day.  The  insurance  payment  was  a  few 
days  overdue  and  they  weren't  sure 
they  were  still  covered.  All  they  had 
saved  was  their  car,  cut  away  from  the 
trailer  just  in  time,  and  the  baby's  crib. 

There  was  the  woman  whose  family 
had  a  series  of  accidents  and  illnesses 
and  who  brought  the  eviction  notice 
her  landlord  had  just  sent  her.  When 
she  won  $500  the  audience  was  with  her 
every  word  of  the  way. 

"Was  she  as  nice  as  she  sounded?" 
was  the  first  thing  I  asked  Todd  that 
night.  He  called  that  "Edna's  No.  1 
question" — I  always  ask  it  when  I 
specially  like  a  contestant's  voice.  Some- 
times I  form  a  picture  of  what  the  per- 
son looks  like  and  find  I'm  completely 
off.  The  man  whose  wife  was  expecting 
quadruplets  had  such  a  big  voice  I 
thought  he  was  a  big  fellow  like  Todd. 
My  husband  described  him  as  a  swell 
little  guy.  I  guessed  that  the  woman 
with  the  rich,  hearty  laugh  and  the 
eleven  children,  eight  of  them  foster- 
children,  was  a  big  motherly  person, 
and  for  once  I  was  right. 

No  matter  how  much  contestants 
need  the  money,  Todd  won't  slant  his 
questions  to  them.     When  they  get  up 


to  answer,  they  are  on  their  own,  with 
no  hints  from  him  or  help  from  the 
audience.  "That's  the  only  fair  way," 
he  reasons,  "with  $800  at  stake  each 
time."  He  feels  dreadful  ■<vhen  a  really 
worthy  contestant  loses,  but  can't  do 
anything  about  it  and  still  keep  the 
show  up  to  his  standards.  It's  an  in- 
teresting sidelight  that  studio  audi- 
ences are  more  apt  to  stay  with  the 
contestant  who  doesn't  throw  away 
chances  too  recklessly. 

An  average  of  five  people  have  an 
opportunity  to  get  on  the  air  every 
broadcast,  and  surprisingly  enough, 
some  of  the  most  wonderful  and  dra- 
matic stories  have  been  found  right  in 
that  night's  studio  audience.  Of  course, 
every  letter  that  comes  in  is  carefully 
read  and  judged,  and  if  any  of  the 
twelve  judges  finds  a  letter  of  particu- 
lar interest  it  is  read  by  Todd  and  the 
owner-producer  of  the  show,  Walt 
Framer.  The  writer  is  interviewed,  and 
if  the  story  is  on  the  level  the  inter- 
viewee is  apt  to  get  on  the  air. 

Sometimes  the  reasons  for  wanting  to 
Strike  It  Rich  may  seem  trivial  to 
others,  but  be  all-important  to  the  let- 
terwriter.  On  one  of  the  early  broad- 
casts Todd  was  unde,cided  about  a 
woman  who  wanted  to  be  on  the  pro- 
gram because  the  family  needed  a  new 
dining  room  suite.  I  told  him  I  thought 
other  women  would  understand  and  be 
happy  for  her  if  she  won  enough  to  re- 
furnish her  room.  We  all  rooted  for 
the  securities  clerk  who  wanted  to  hand 
out  dollar  bills  to  a  breadline  that 
formed  every  morning  in  front  of  a 
church  he  passed  on  his  way  to  the 
office.  He  said  he  had  known  what  it 
was  like  to  be  broke  and  hungry  and 
he  wanted  to  give  those  fellows  an  un- 
expected treat  some  morning.  He  played 
it  safe  and  won  $230  out  of  the  pos- 
sible $800,  added  $20  of  his  own  to 
make  an  even  $250,  and  asked  "Todd  to 
meet  him  next  morning  and  let  him 
prove  his  request  had  been  strictly  on 
the  level.  My  husband  got  a  lot  of 
satisfaction  watching  those  faces  as 
each  man  was  handed  a  dollar  bill. 

LETTERS  have  come  from  far  and 
near,  thanking  Todd  for  help  the  pro- 
gram has  given  them.  A  young  Egyptian 
was  stranded  in  this  country  because 
of  his  country's  currency  restrictions, 
and  escaped  deportation  by  winning 
enough  to  book  passage  before  the 
immigration  authorities'  deadline.  His 
thanks  were  reiterated  all  the  way  from 
Alexandria,   Egypt. 

The  program  isn't  all  serious  or  even 
dramatic,  as  regular  listeners  know.  For 
instance,  there  was  the  young  fellow 
who  belonged  to  what  his  gang  dubbed 
a  "Lazy  Man's  Club."  They  needed 
money  to  have  the  clubroom  redecora- 
ted, but  it  was  against  the  rules  to  work 
for  it.  (In  a  world  where  most  people 
have  to  work  for  what  they  get,  I  sup- 
pose this  was  their  final  adolescent 
protest  before  they  had  to  meet  life 
on  its  own  terms.) 

This  lad  walked  up  on  the  stage  so 
indolently  and  looked  so  relaxed  that 
Todd  asked  him  right  away  if  the  club 
members  hadn't  been  worried  about 
the  effort  he  would  have  to  make  to  be 
on  the  show.  The  boy  answered  that 
they  all  figured  the  only  physical  ef- 
fort would  be  walking  up  to  the  mike, 
so  they  guessed  that  wouldn't  be  too 
much^At  this,  Todd  had  a  chair  brought 
out  for  him,  and  the  audience  howled. 


ThoseWDAYS 
cMBiCiOODDAYS 


RiUEVES  FUNCTIONAL 

PERIODIC  PAIN 

CRAMPS-HEUUCHl -"BLUES" 


PERSONAL  SAMPLE -In  plain  envelope. 

Write  Dept.  N-19,  Room  Z500, 

050  Broadway,  New  York  18,  N.  Y. 


"What  a  DIFFERENCE 
MIdol  makes" 


CHASES "BLUES' 


^ 


There  is  nothing  lazy  about  my  hus- 
band— he  has  been  a  hustler  ever  since 
he  combined  grade  school  and  piano 
practice  well  enough  to  win  a  medal  in 
a  music  competition.  There  is  just  one 
luxury  he  goes  for,  breakfast  in  bed, 
and  he  gets  it  every  Sunday.  He's  a 
guy  who  likes  his  coffee  before  he 
shaves.  His  only  attempts  at  cookery 
are  ham  and  eggs,  and  he  does  those  up 
brown. 

He  really  couldn't  be  lazy  and  remain 
such  a  perfectionist.  Even  when  he 
was  doing  record  shows  he  planned  his 
programs  down  to  the  last  disc.  You 
may  not  know  that  announcers  on  small 
shows  usually  pick  their  own  records, 
and  it's  quite  a  chore  to  make  selec- 
tions for  an  all-day  show.  Todd  al- 
ways knew  just  which  one  he  wanted 
to  start  off  with  and  finish  with,  and 
all  the  steps  in  between.  He  was 
studying  radio  technique  all  the  time. 
We  did  post  mortems  on  the  programs 
we  heard,  discussed  how  they  could 
be  improved,  where  they  sagged,  why 
some  broadcasts  went  over  better  than 
others.  He  was  always  learning  some- 
thing new  about  his  job. 

Once,  in  the  early  days,  when  Tommy 
Dorsey  played  as  a  guest  with  a  band 
Todd  was  announcing,  he  asked  Todd 
if  he  was  more  used  to  announcing 
record  shows.  "Maybe  you're  a  little 
nervous  about  this,"  Tommy  suggested. 
"Well,  I  am — a  little,"  my  husband 
confessed.  Then  Tommy  advised  Todd, 
"You  do  your  announcement  in  the 
same  way,  whether  it's  a  record  or  a 
live  show.  When  you  announce  a  rec- 
ord you  tell  who  did  the  arrangement, 
you  say  whether  or  not  I  play  a  solo, 
and  so  forth.  You  do  the  same  thing 
now.     There's  no  difference." 

"Sensational  advice,"  Todd  says,  that 
kept  him  from  ever  being  worried  again 
about  the  form  of  his  announcements. 

Todd  and  I  met  when  I  was  seventeen 
and  he  was  twenty.  He  was  president 
of  our  Young  People's  Society  in 
the  church  we  both  attended.  Todd 
was  born  in  Manchester,  England  and  I 
in  Toronto,  Canada,  but  our  paths  came 
together  at.  this  church  in  Hamilton, 
Ontario,  though  we  had  not  been 
formally  introduced  until  the  minister 
cast  us  both  iai  a  play  given  by  the  So- 
ciety. When  Todd  joined  the  young 
people's  group  one  of  his  friends  had 
cautioned:  "Look  out;  that's  where  I 
met  my  wife."  Todd  had  laughed,  be- 
cause he  was  still  in  school  and  trying 
to  get  a  foothold  in  business,  and  wasn't 
thinking  of  marrying  for  a  long  time. 
He  was  easily  the  most  popular  boy  in 


the  church  and  I  had  admired  him  se- 
cretly for  a  long  time 

In  the  play  he  was  my  husband,  and 
before  we  finished  the  circuit  of  our 
own  church  and  nearby  churches  where 
we  gave  performances,  we  fell  in  love. 

Todd  went  to  work  for  a  furrier, 
learning  to  be  a  nailer,  which  meant  he 
worked  on  the  stretching  and  drying 
boards  to  which  pelts  are  nailed.  The 
constant  nailing  and  pulling  of  the  furs 
made  callouses  on  his  fingers  and  his 
piano  teacher  said  his  concert  ambi- 
tions •vvrould  be  jeopardized  if  he  con- 
tinued. Maybe  it  was  a  put-up  job — 
he  was  bored  to  tears  with  the  work — 
but  he  won't  admit  it,  even  today,  if  it 
was.  Anyhow,  his  parents  agreed  he 
ought  to  quit  the  fur  business  and  he 
settled  down  in  a  minor  clerkship  for 
a  big  steel  corporation. 

Just  before  the  depression  struck  hard 
and  relieved  him  of  his  duties  in  steel, 
he  had  begun  to  get  interested  in  popu- 
lar music  and  was  doing  more  and 
more  piano-playing  stints  with  dance 
bands.  He  did  vocal  solos  too — I  wish 
he  were  doing  some  singing  now,  be- 
cause he  has  a  romantic  voice.  When 
I  tell  him  it's  something  like  Russ 
Columbo's  he  laughs.  He  won't  per- 
form at  all,  except  on  a  stage,  and  is 
probably  the  quietest  person  at  a  party, 
especially  a  big  one  where  he  doesn't 
know  many  people. 

While  Todd  -was  working  with  a 
dance  band  the  bass  fiddle  player  told 
him  he  was  selling  insurance  on  the 
side  and  making  quite  a  tidy  sum  extra. 
"You  would  make  a  doggone  good  sales- 
man," he  said  to  Todd  one  day.  "Why 
don't  you  try  your  hand  at  insurance?" 
Todd  figured  it  would  be  a  good  idea 
made  an  appointment  with  the  insur- 
ance manager,  and  was  on  his  way  to 
keep  it  when  he  bumped  into  a  friend 
who  managed  a  radio  station.  The 
friend  said,  "I'm  on  my  way  to  the 
studio  to  conduct  auditions  for  a  new 
master  of  ceremonies.  Say,  maybe 
you  would  like  to  try  out  for  it."  Todd 
had  never  thought  of  any  such  thing, 
but  there  he  was,  with  one  of  those 
split-second  decisions  to  make.  He 
decided  the  insurance  would  always 
be  there,  and  the  audition  would  not. 

The  payoff  was  that  while  the  show 
for  which  Todd  auditioned  never  came 
off,  they  made  Todd  an  announcer  as  a 
result  of  the  test.  The  regular  an-' 
nouncer  wasn't  doing  as  well  as  ex- 
pected, so  they  put  Todd  in  his  place. 
In  those  days  he  worked  fourteen  hours 
a  day  for  $15  a  week,  less  than  he  got 
with  dance  bands,  but  he  felt  he  was 


listen  to 

GRAND  OLE  OPRY 


99 


every  Saturday  night  over  NBC 

Hear   Red   Foley   sing   his   famous 
folk  ballads. 

Read  the  story  of  Red  Foley's  life 
in  the  January  issue  of 

TRUE  STORY 

magazine   complete   with    full-color 
autographed  photograph. 


building  a  more  solid  future.  After 
all,  we  had  been  engaged  five  years  and 
now  we  wanted  to  marry  and  make  a 
home  of  our  own. 

That  first  week  on  the  air  he  shout- 
ed all  his  lines  into  the  microphone 
and  wherever  he  rested  his  hands  he 
left  a  little  pool  of  perspiration  from 
nervousness.  I  remember  on  one  of 
his  first  day's  broadcasts  he  did  the 
foreign  newscast  perfectly,  pronouncing 
all  the  names  carefully,  but  when  he 
got  to  the  five  minutes  of  domestic 
news  his  tongue  twisted  and  he  talked 
about  "John  McCormack,  the  great 
Irish  terrier."  It  was  an  understandable 
slip,  but  the  telephone  rang  and  the 
mail  bulged  with  demands  for  apolo- 
gies. Todd  made  them,  wherever  he 
could.  Some  time  later,  in  giving  a 
tobacco  commercial,  he  rushed  to  the 
microphone  after  listening  to  a  record 
he  was  planning  to  use,  and  breath- 
lessly asked,  "Men,  do  you  smike  a 
pope?" 

AFTER  a  while  Todd  was  conducting 
Community  Sings  on  the  air  and  hav- 
ing a  wonderful  time  doing  it.  Music 
is  in  his  bones,  and  he  has  some  good 
ballads  and  rhythm  tunes  readv  for 
publication  now.  Did  I  say  good?  He 
wrote  both  words  and  music,  and  I 
think  they're  sensational.  He  knows 
quite  a  bit  about  art  too,  because  many 
of  our  Canadian  friends  are  artists. 
We  "do"  the  wonderful  New  York  art 
galleries  whenever  we  can  find  time, 
are  baseball  and  hockey  fans,  and 
small-towney  enough  to  enjoy  picnics — 
especially  for  two.  Todd  likes  the 
theater,  some  movies — and  visits  to 
broadcasts.  Quiz  shows  would  be  too 
much  of  a  busman's  holiday  for  him, 
but  Art  Linkletter  is  the  exception. 
Top  programs  with  Todd  are  Arthur 
Godfrey's  Talent  Scouts,  Fibber  McGee 
and  Molly,  Bing  Crosby — and  the  fights 
on  television. 

His  first  quiz  show  came  his  way  in 
Canada,  and  when  we  came  to  New 
York  in  1945  (we  had  been  married 
seven  years  then)  he  stepped  into  the 
Double  or  Nothing  quizmaster  spot  after 
an  announcing  stint  on  another  show. 
It  was  a  natural  transition,  because 
Double  or  Nothing  was  the  first  Cana- 
dian quiz  program  he  emceed. 

Then  along  came  Walt  Framer  with 
his  Strike  It  Rich  show,  which  ap- 
pealed to  Todd  immediately.  We 
planned  a  wonderful  motor  trip  before 
he  would  plunge  into  his  new  job.  We 
were  going  to  Canada,  and  have  a  pic- 
nic every  day  if  we  wanted  to.  What 
we  got  was  just  one  Sunday  off  between 
the  old  and  new  assignments. 

Right  now  we  are  looking  for  two 
things:  a  New  York  apartment  and  a 
cocker  spaniel  to  take  the  place  in  our 
hearts  left  empty  by  Rusty  and  Mugsy, 
the  two  we  had  to  leave  in  Canada. 
Rusty  got  his  name  from  his  color,  but 
Mugsy  was  tagged  for  Mugsy  Spanier, 
the  trumpet  player.  It  happened  this 
way:  We  brought  her  home,  a  scared 
puppy,  put  her  down  on  the  living  room 
floor  and  turned  on  the  radio.  Mugsy 
Spanier's  fine  trumpet  work  came 
through  the  loudspeaker  at  that  mo- 
ment, and  our  spaniel  whimpered. 

"That's  her  name,"  we  both  shouted. 
"Mugsy  Spanier." 

We  love  dogs  so  much  that  we  talk 
of  retiring  some  day  with  two  special 
friends  of  ours  to  raise  cockers.  Todd 
has  another  "some  day"  idea  too.  He 
wants  to  write  songs,  so  he  can  travel 
anywhere  and  everywhere  for  inspira- 
tion, and  not  be  rooted  to  any  one 
place.  Meanwhile,  he  wouldn't  change 
his  job  for  any  other  kind. 


What's  New  from  Coast  to  Coast 


(Continued  from  page  11) 


show  we'll  certainly  remember  you." 
Mills  filed  the  letter  away  with  his 
other  souvenirs  and  thought  little  more 
about  it.  The  pay-off?  Felix  Mills  does 
the  music  for  the  new  half-hour  Lum 
and  Abner  show. 

^         >^         ^ 

Guy  Lombardo  certainly  gave  us 
some  surprising  news  the  other  day. 
Guy  says  that  musically  speaking  New 
York  is  a  world  unto  itself.  Very  often 
the  songs  being  sung  and  whistled  by 
the  citizens  of  the  big  city  don't  find 
much  favor  in  the  rest  of  the  country. 
As  a  result,  a  hit  song  becomes  a  hit 
after  being  "discovered"  by  people  in 
the  midwest,  west,  south  or  north.  On 
the  other  hand,  Guy  tells  us,  some  of 
the  biggest  hit  songs — if  you're  going  to 
judge  by  record  and  sheet  music  sales 
that  reach  the  sky — never  become  pop- 
ular with  New  York  listeners  and  danc- 
ers. 

^  ^  ^ 

Arthur  Godfrey  is  the  kind  of  man 
you'd  expect  almost  anything  to  hap- 
pen to — and  it  does.  Now,  it  comes  out 
that  there's  a  horse  in  the  Gene  Autry 
Rodeo  named  after  radio's  red  head 
and  that  said  horse  is  a  tough  creature 
on  whose  back  no  cowboy  has  yet  been 
able  to  remain  the  required  ten  seconds. 
Not  the  least  disturbed  by  this  dubious 
honor,  Godfrey  says,  "I've  got  my  eye 
on  that  prize  money,  and  when  it  gets 
big  enough,  I'll  send  somebody  over 
there  who  can  handle  that  Arthur  God- 
frey— my  wife!" 

^         ^         ^ 

A  member  of  Johnny  Long's  orches- 
tra, who  prefers  to  remain  nameless, 
had  a  harrowing  experience  recently. 
He  sent  his  shorts  and  shirts  to  the  hotel 
laundry,  marked  "rush,"  because  he 
was  leaving  the  next  day.  When  the 
parcel  came,  he  put  it  unopened  into 
his  grip  and  climbed  on  the  band's  bus 
and  left  town.  A  few  hundred  miles 
later,  in  another  hotel,  he  opened  the 
parcel  to  find  a  woman's  girdle  and 
other  delicate  bits  of  feminine  finery. 
If  the  lady  who  got  a  bundle  of  laundry 
containing  shirts  and  shorts  will  write 
to  Buddy  Basch  at  17  East  45  Street 
in  New  York  City,  she  can  have  back 
what  belongs  to  her. 

*         *         * 

The  Red  Cross  recently  awarded 
Minnie  Pearl  a  citation  for  the  work 
she's  done  this  year  in  veterans'  hos- 
pitals. The  boys  have  given  Minnie 
their  own  citation — the  laughter  of  men 
for  whom  it  is  sometimes  difficult  to 
find  things  to  laugh  at. 

4=  4:  ^ 

Louise  Erickson  spent  last  summer 
touring  Europe.  She  found  out  so  many 
exciting  things  that  she's  negotiating 
with  a  national  teen-age  magazine  to 
write  her  impressions  of  Europe  in  a 
series  of  articles. 

#  ^  ^ 

Sweeney  and  March,  who  pinch-hit 
for  Jack  Carson  last  summer,  will  prob- 
ably have  their  own  show  for  a  major 
sponsor  around  the  first  of  the  year. 
Can't  understand  why  those  two  don't 
move  faster  to  the  top — -they're  among 
the  funniest  people  on  the  air. 

If:  )}:  ^ 

People  sitting  in  movie  theaters  are 
used  to  watching  all  kinds  of  camera 
tricks  that  are  used  to  get  across  to  the 
audience  the  mood  or  action  in  a  pic- 
ture. But  television  audiences  haven't 
yet  learned  to  expect  the  unexpected, 


as  witness  what  happened  recently 
when  Tom  de  Huff,  director  of  Holly- 
wood Screen  Test,  a  WJZ-TV  show, 
used  a  fancy  trick  or  two.  The  story 
called  for  someone  to  be  knocked  out, 
remain  unconscious  for  a  time,  and 
then  return  to  consciousness.  To  con- 
vey the  feeling  of  the  victim  "coming 
to",  de  Huff  produced  a  gray,  fuzzy 
picture  that  cleared  up  gradually  as 
the  lad  returned  to  normal — a  device 
that's  been  used  hundreds  of  times  in 
the  movies.  But  a  dozen  people  phoned 
in  while  the  show  was  being  televised 
to  find  out  whether  the  trouble  was  in 
the  studio  or  in  their  video  sets! 

*  *         * 

The  geniuses  behind  the  giveaway 
shows,  having  fallen  heir  to  the  audi- 
ences which  once  were  the  property  of 
the  comedians,  are  learning  that,  along 
with  the  lofty  Hooperatings.  they  in- 
herited also  some  of  the  comedians'  oc- 
cupational diseases.  The  producer  of 
two  of  CBS's  top  giveaways  recently 
spent  an  uncomfortable  spell  in  the 
hospital  being  divorced  from  a  brace  of 
ulcers. 

*  *         * 

There  has  come  to  our  attention  a 
contest  which  should  be  of  interest  to 
all  those  connected  with  the  writing  end 
of  radio.  Called  The  National  Five  Arts 
Awards,  the  contest  aims  to  stimulate 
creative  writing  in  the  U.  S.— by  a  total 
of  prize  money  amounting  to  $100,000! — ■ 
and  provide  production  for  the  best 
scripts  received.  It  is  open  to  anyone 
with  two  dollars — the  entry  fee  for  the 
first  manuscript  submitted.  (For  each 
one  thereafter,  it  is  one  dollar.)  For  fur- 
ther information  and  entry  blank,  con- 
tact The  National  Five  Arts  Awards, 
Inc.,  715  Fifth  Ave.,  New  York,  N.Y. 

:^  ij:  « 

GOSSIP  AND  STUFF  ....  Marion 
Hutton  (not  to  be  confused  with  sister 
Betty)  in  the  new  Marx  Brothers  pic, 
"Love  Happy,"  which  hits  the  nation's 
theaters  just  about  when  you'll  be  read- 
ing this  ....  More  Marx  Data — Frank 
Sinatra  and  Groucho  Marx  will  be 
doubling  from  radio  into  a  picture  to- 
gether at  RKO  this  winter  ....  Eve 
Arden  will  be  Danny  Kaye's  leading 
lady  in  the  Warner  Brothers'  film, 
"Happy  Times,"  which  makes  us  plenty 
happy  ....  NBC  is  reported  peddling 
a  simultaneous  AM-TV  pickup  for 
the  NBC  Symphony  when  Arturo  Tos- 
canini  takes  over  the  baton  this  winter. 
The  series  has  been  sustaining  the  past 
few  years  .  .  .  ."Arnold  Moss,  no  stranger 
to  radio  listeners  of  top  dramatic  shows, 
has  completed  his  second  featured  film 
role  in  the  pic,  "Reign  of  Terror"  .... 
Wingy  Manone  has  joined  the  roster  of 
musicians  trying  to  tell  jazz  fans  what 
it's  all  about  by  authoring  an  auto- 
biography, Trumpet  on  the  Wing  which 
is  now  on  sale  at  all  bookstores  .... 
Gail  and  Harry  Ingram,  man-and-wife 
radio  writing-directing-producing  team 
have  written  a  comedy  based  on  the 
activities  of  a  mythical  radio  network 
president  and  his  staff.  It's  due  to  hit 
Broadway  this  season.  Alfred  N.  Miller, 
ad  agency  exec,  will  produce  ....  CBS 
will  hold  the  second  nationwide  tele- 
vision clinic  in  New  York  this  January. 
One  way  to  make  developments  in 
video  move  faster  ....  And  so  it's  go- 
ing to  be  a  New  Year  and  we  hope 
there  will  be  plenty  that's  really  new 
about  it — and  good.  Happy  New  Year 
and  what  are  you  doing  to  make  it  so? 


mOm 


n  nK-B 
>3  "?  " 


If 


?iP^^ 


A 


Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 


BATTLE  OF  THE  BUDGET 

Dear  Papa  David: 

One  morning  not  so  long  ago  I 
dragged  myself  and  my  three  toddlers 
into  the  grocery  store  for  the  weekly 
battle  of  budget  versus  prices.  I  was 
feeling  haggard  and  harassed. 

While  I  listlessly  picked  up  dozens 
of  this  and  pounds  of  that,  I  noticed  a 
well-groomed  and  beautifully-dressed 
woman.  Whereas  I  was  getting  large 
amounts  of  economical  foods,  she  was 
picking  up  out-of-season  and  expensive 
bits  of  tasty  things.  I  could  tell  by  the 
size  of  her  purchases  that  she  must  live 
alone.  How  I  envied  her  those  long 
leisure  hours  I  knew  she  must  have; 
her  one-cucumber-two-tomatoes  type 
of  shopping;  her  pale  pastel  unruffled 
appearance. 

Then  I  noticed  that  she  was  watching 
us,  too.  With  a  half-smile  on  her  face 
she  followed  the  children  and  me  with 
her  eyes.  I  was  beginning  to  be  very 
uncomfortable  under  her  scrutiny  while 
I  wrestled  with  sacks  and  shooed  the 
kids  away  from  displays.  I  felt  she  was 
being  very  amused  at  my  struggles,  my 
stringy  hair,  the  children's  scuffed 
shoes. 

So  you  can  imagine  my  surprise  when 
she  walked  over  to  the  checker  with  her 
■  purchases  and,  nodding  in  my  direction, 
said  to  him,  "They're  just  like  a  picture 
— a  mother  and  her  little  family."  Then 
she  sighed,  "Family  life  is  a  wonderful 
thing." 

The  checker  nodded  absently.  But  the 
envy,  the  loneliness,  the  heartache  that 
was  in  that  woman's  voice  as  she  said 
those  words  made  me  want  to  cry.  I 
looked  around  at  my  children's  rosy, 
excited  faces  and  I  realized  that  this 
strange  woman  had  given  me  a  price- 
less thing — she  had  opened  my  eyes  to 
the  fact  that  I  need  never  envy  another 
woman  her  existence,  for  here  in  my 
own  hands  were  the  ingredients  that  go 
into  making  a  beautiful  life. 

Mrs.  J.  S. 

THE  KIND   OF  HEART 

Dear  Papa  David: 

I  was  huddled  in  a  chair  in  the  oc- 
ulist's waiting  room,  lonely,  frightened, 
busy  with  my  own  troubles. 

Suddenly  a  man  rushed  in,  asking 
for  the  doctor.  He  was  on  his  way  to 
Washington,  he  explained,  and  on  the 
train  stop-over  had  dropped  in  to  the 
corner  drugstore  for  a  cup  of  coffee  just 
then,  and  had  overheard  the  waitresses 
discussing  one  of  the  other  girls  who 
worked  there  and  the  operation  that 
the  oculist  for  whom  I  was  waiting 
had  offered  to  perform  for  her.  This 
man  had  heard  enough  of  the  conver- 
sation to  realize  what  a  splendid  thing 
the  doctor  was  doing  and,  although  he 
didn't  know  the  girl,  he  wanted  to  add 
his  bit  by  contributing  enough  money 
for  room  and  board  for  the  girl  during 
the  time  she  would  have  to  be  away 
from  work. 

The    doctor    told    me    later    that    he 
usually  lunched  in  the  drug  store  and 
had  noticed  the  girl  because  her  eyes 
were  so  crossed  that  they  badly  dis- 
figured her.   He  realized  what  a  handi- 
cap   this    must    be    for    a    young    girl. 
Learning   that   her   parents   had   been 
"    recently   killed   and   that   she   had   no 
M    relatives  and  no  money,  he  offered  to 
operate  without  charge  and  straighten 
her  eyes,  provided  she  could  pay  the 
78 


(Continued  from  page  22) 

hospital  expenses.  The  other  employees 
had  that  day  collected  the  necessary 
money  for  those  expenses. 

I  left  the  doctor's  office  with  a  tre- 
mendous surge  of  courage  and  happi- 
ness. We  hear  over  and  over  that  the 
only  way  to  lasting  happiness  is  by 
helping  others  but  not  until  that  day 
did  I  fully  appreciate  what  that  meant. 

Mrs.  B.P.F. 

GOOD  WILL  AMBASSADORS 

Dear  Papa  David: 

I  wish  your  letters  in  Radio  Mirror 
could  be  translated  and  distributed  in 
Europe — they  would  make  very  good 
ambassadors! 

I  am  a  GI  bride,  born  in  Austria.  I 
spent  the  first  ten  years  of  my  life  in 
a  happy,  carefree  way,  along  with  the 
rest  of  the  people  of  my  country,  until 
suddenly  in  1930-31  everything 
changed.  Concentration  camps,  barbed 
wire,  machine  guns  in  the  middle  of 
town.  My  father  spent  most  of  his 
remaining  years  in  a  concentration 
camp  or  jail  until  he  died.  In  1938  I  left 
for  England,  on  my  eighteenth  birthday, 
two  months  before  Hitler  took  Austria. 
My  sixteen-year-old  sister  was  sen- 
tenced to  eighteen  months  in  prison  for 
working  for  the  Underground;  my 
brother  had  to  join  the  Nazi  army,  and 
died  there.  I  was  put  in  an  internment 
camp  in  England  for  ten  months  be- 
cause I  was  an  alien.  All  that  worked 
on  my  mind.  I  didn't  trust  people.  I 
wondered  what  was  the  use  of  living. 

Then  I  met  and  loved  and  married 
my  GI.  I  couldn't  believe  how  different 
it  was  over  here  until  I  came  to  the 
United  States  with  my  year-old  son. 
People  over  here  think  nothing  of 
things  like  helping  people  less  forunate, 
of  radio  programs  where  people  give 
for  the  fun  of  giving.  It  brings  tears 
to  my  eyes,  just  reading  or  listening. 

Each  day  I  say  a  silent  prayer  of 
thanks  for  the  chance  to  let  my  children 
grow  up  over  here  and  be  Americans! 

H.  T. 

NOTHING  TO  LOSE 

Dear  Papa  David: 

I  had  no  home,  no  job,  and  less  than 
two  hundred  dollars,  when  the  doctor 
released  me  from  the  hospital  after 
telling  me  that  I  suffered  from  a  disease 
for  which  there  is  no  cure.  I  was  only 
twenty-four  years  old.  I  wanted  to 
kick  and  scream  and  tell  the  whole 
world  that  it  wasn't  fair.  But  I  knew 
that  wouldn't  get  me  the  things  to 
which  I  thought  everyone  was  entitled: 
the  right  to  know  the  rapture  of  lov- 
ing and  being  loved;  the  strength  to 
work  and  to  accomplish;  the  heart  to 
laugh  and  play;  something  to  look  for- 
ward to  in  life  besides  an  early  death! 

Then  some  friends  invited  me  to  come 
and  stay  with  them  until  I  felt  better.  I 
was  in  Minnesota  and  they  in  Arizona. 
I  was  too  ill  to  make  the  trip  except  by 
air.  It  took  almost  my  last  penny  to 
straighten  up  my  affairs  and  buy  my 
ticket.  And  when  I  boarded  that  plane 
I  was  feeling  deeply  sorry  for  myself. 

The  trip  was  a  calm  and  pleasant  one 
until  we  were  flying  over  the  plain  of 
Kansas.  There  we  ran  into  a  blasting 
electrical  storm.  Suddenly,  a  great 
flash  of  lightning  seemed  to  illuminate 
the  entire  earth  as  if  with  a  great  fluo- 
rescent light.  There  I  was,  four  miles 
in  the  air  and  surrounded  by  lightning. 


of  which  I  had  always  been  afraid.  And 
the  thought  came  to  me  that  of  the 
thirty-five  people  up  there  with  me,  I 
was  the  only  one  who  had  nothing  to 
lose.  I  could  enjoy  the  full  beauty  of 
that  tumult  in  the  heavens  with  a  com- 
plete freedom  from  fear. 

Ever  since,  I  have  been  able  to  live 
each  day  to  the  fullest — with  joy,  with 
no  fear.  Each  dawn  opens  a  whole  new 
world  for  me.  And  I  give  thanks  for 
the  lesson  that,  since  we  pass  this  way 
but  once,  there  is  no  time  for  self-pity 
— only  for  joy  and  service. 

L.B. 

NEW  SHOES— NEW  LIFE 

Dear  Papa  David: 

I  work  for  a  child  care  agency.  Dur- 
ing the  year  1945  a  small,  tow-headed 
four-year-old  boy  was  given  into  our 
care.  His  parents  claimed  that  the  hos- 
pital had  made  a  mistake  and  had  given 
them  the  wrong  baby.  They  hated  him 
intensely. 

The  child  had  been  kept  in  one  room, 
been  made  to  eat  out  of  a  pan  on  the 
floor.  He  did  not  know  how  to  talk, 
had  never  been  out  of  doors,  or  had  on 
a  pair  of  shoes.  He  was  taken  from  his 
parents  and  brought  to  our  playroom, 
which  is  large  and  airy.  "The  child 
spent  hours  walking  the  length  of  the 
room,  stopping  every  little  while  to 
touch  his  first  pair  of  shoes  and  to  show 
them  to  everyone  who  came  near  him. 
He  would  pick  up  the  crayons  and  the 
small  toys,  their  bright  colors  reflect- 
ing the  joy  and  wonder  in  his  small,  sad 
face.  Today  that  child  is  a  handsome 
little  boy,  safe  in  the  knowledge  that 
the  kind  people  who  now  have  him  in 
boarding  care  love  him. 

M.  A.  F. 

EVERYTHING  IN  THE  WORLD 

Dear  Papa  David: 

I  was  listening  to  the  radio  as  I 
scrubbed,  the  floor.  It  was  the  third 
time  that  day  someone  had  said  that 
no  family  could  live  on  less  than  $3600 
a  year  nowadays. 

I  looked  around  the  kitchen — the 
walls  needed  painting.  I  looked  out  the 
window,  past  the  drying  diapers,  and 
saw  the  house  next  door — so  near  we 
could  watch  our  neighbors  as  they  ate. 
As  I  walked  over  to  the  stove  to  stir 
the  beans  we  were  having  for  the  third 
time  that  week  I  felt  rather  angry. 
$3600  a  year — why,  we  were  living  on  a 
third  of  that! 

Then  I  started  thinking:  maybe  we 
were  eating  beans,  but  we  didn't  owe 
anyone  a  cent.  The  kitchen  was  grimy 
— but  our  month-old  baby  had  been 
paid  for  in  three  weeks.  Our  neighbors 
were  awfully  close — but  when  the 
baby  and  I  came  home  from  the  hosnital 
they  ran  in  and  out  to  take  care  of  us, 
so  we  wouldn't  have  to  hire  anyone. 
Yes,  my  dress  (four  years  old)  was 
patched — but  the  baby  had  all  the 
clothes  he  needed,  his  own  crib,  and  a 
pretty  bonnet  and  sweater  to  wear 
when  I  took  him  out.  I  hadn't  been  to 
a  movie  in  three  months — but  every 
night  my  husband  read  to  me  for  hours 
while  I  sewed  or  mended. 

I  had  everything  I  could  want  or 
need,  and  I  honestly  had  never  been 
happier.  Living  is  wonderful  when  you 
learn  the  meaning  of  contentment. 

L.  D.  F. 


Traveler  of  the  Month 

(Continued  from  page  49) 


young  man  in  West  Virginia.  He  had 
been  released  from  the  hospital  in  1946. 
But  home  was  different  to  him.  People 
tried  to  be  considerate,  of  course,  and 
everyone  was  helpful — too  helpful.  The 
boy  felt  like  an  alien.  A  few  days  be- 
fore Thanksgiving  he  wired  the  Thiels 
that  he  was  coming  North  to  spend  the 
holiday  with  them. 

Thanksgiving  at  the  Thiels  was  just 
as  he  remembered  it.  A  great  big  turkey, 
lots  of  chatter  and  jokes.  Mrs.  Thiel 
arranged  their  plates  so  that  the  blind 
boys  could  "eat  by  the  clock"— turkey 
at  a  certain  spot,  potatoes  somewhere 
else,  just  where  the  boys  had  been 
taught  to  expect  it.  They  made  no 
other    concession    to    their    misfortune. 

This  was  a  holiday  weekend,  and 
about  ten  of  the  boys  slept  at  the  Thiels'. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thiel  slept  on  the  floor, 
and  the  young  veterans  curled  up  in 
chairs  all  over  the  place.  For  all  of 
them,  in  a  way  they  couldn't  explain, 
this  was  home. 

The  weekend  was  over,  at  last,  but 
the  guest  from  West  Virginia  stayed  on. 
At  the  end  of  a  month,  he  drew  the 
Thiels  aside  and  told  them  what  he  had 
been  thinking. 

This  was  the  place  where  he  was 
happy,  the  only  place.  Could  he  stay 
on,  as  a  boarder,  forever? 

That,  as  I  said,  was  over  two  years 
ago.  Well,  he's  still  there,  and  happy. 
He  has  a  job,  he  pays  his  way  and  he 
has  found  one  corner  of  the  world 
where  he  can  really  relax  and  forget 
his  blindness  once  in  a  while. 

"He's  just  another  of  my  kids,  now," 
Mrs.  Thiel  said.  "No  special  treatment, 
just  one  of  our  kids." 

When  she  said  that,  I  couldn't  help 
thinking  that  being  one  of  Mrs.  Thiel's 
kids  was  a  special  treatment  in  itself— 
a  treatment  in  zestful  living  that  few 
doctors,  apparently,  could  prescribe. 

I  asked  the  Thiels  if,  with  such  a  busy 
home  life,  they  ever  found  time  to 
travel. 

"Oh,  sure,"  said  Mr.  Thiel.  "Two 
years  ago  we  took  a  4,000  mile  trip  to 
see  eleven  of  our  boys.  That  was  really 
something.  The  families,  in  their  own 
ways,  felt  very  close  to  us,  and  we  were 
royally  entertained.  We  stayed  every- 
where from  a  millionaire's  home  in 
Delaware  to  a  cold  water  flat  in  Chi- 
cago. The  parents  just  couldn't  do 
enough  for  us,  and  the  boys  were  really 


happy  to  be  our  hosts." 

How  did  they  find  their  boys  on  these 
visits?  Were  these  young  men  able  to 
find  their  way  in  a  busy,  seeing  world, 
and,  perhaps,  find  happiness? 

"The  wonderful  thing  about  going  to 
see  the  boys  is  that,  in  almost  every 
case,  they're  really  doing  fine.  They've 
got  jobs  suited  to  their  handicaps.  Many 
have  been  married — and  we  even  have 
a  few  'grandchildren',"  Mrs.  Thiel  said. 

"Seeing  these  boys  as  they  are  today, 
and  remembering  the  uncertain,  sort 
of  suspicious  way  that  they  first  came 
into  our  home  is  a  real  reward  for  the 
little  we  may  have  done." 

But  even  when  the  young  men  have 
won  their  private  battle  with  disaster, 
even  when  they've  taken  up  the  busy 
life  of  their  own  communities,  they 
have  a  way  of  returning  to  the  Thiels 
for  a  visit.  It  isn't  that  they  need  these 
kind  people  from  Philadelphia  any 
more,  but  they  regard  them  as  precious 
friends.  And  a  stay  at  the  Thiel  home 
still  is  a  great  treat. 
•  Last  year,  for  instance,  Ed  Rankin, 
the  bridegroom,  began  missing  them. 
As  Mr.  Thiel  recalled: 

"Ed  just  wanted  to  see  us.  So  he  flew 
in  and  stayed  a  month." 

The  story  of  how  Ed  met  his  bride, 
incidentally,  also  concerns  the  Thiels. 
The  girl  is  the  relative  of  another  sight- 
less veteran  who  had  been  their  guest. 
This  fellow  used  to  brag  about  his 
pretty  cousin,  and  one  day,  he  intro- 
duced her  to  Ed.  The  girl  had  learned 
the  ways  of  the  blind  world.  She  un- 
derstood Ed  and,  in  time,  became  part 
of  his  private  happy  ending. 

The  time  is  coming  when  the  mission 
to  which  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thiel  appointed 
themselves  will  be  at  an  end.  The 
Philadelphia  Naval  Hospital  has  sent 
the  last  of  the  blind  boys  home,  or  to 
other  places.  However,  there  are  still 
some  blind  ex-soldiers  at  nearby  Valley 
Forge  Hospital.  These  young  men  now 
come  to  the  Thiel  house,  and  this  is 
one  instance  when  the  Army  doesn't 
mind  sharing  quarters  with  the  Navy. 

"We'll  miss  the  excitement  and  laugh- 
ter when  the  last  of  the  boys  have  gone 
home."    Mr.  Thiel  was  wistful. 

"Yes,"  said  his  wife,  "but  we'll  be 
glad,  too.  Because  that  will  mean  that 
all  the  boys  are  where  they  should  be — 
home.  In  a  way,  I  guess,  an  empty  house 
would   be   the   happiest   sight   of   all." 


ahoutHOX}  and  ME" 

It's  about  the  heart  of  a  woman 
.  .  .  every  woman!  Different, 
complete,  true-to-life  heart  stories 
every  morning,  Monday  thru 
Friday.  Listeners  write — "It 
really  is  MY  true  story  .  .  .  be- 
,,  cause  it's  a  true  picture  of 

women's   emotions." 

lte,CLt  tadttti  ataatQit  motnina  ikow 

MY  TRUE  STORY  ^5c  stations 


RPUOE 


This  Common  Sense  Way 


There  is  no  magic  at  all  about  The 
Common  Sense  Way  to  a  beautiful 
figure.  But  if  you  follow  the  sugges- 
tions Sylvia  of  Hollywood  has  for  you 
in  her  book  No  More  Alibis  you  may, 
perhaps,  challenge  the  beauty  of  the 
loveliest  movie  star! 

In  No  More  Alibis  the  author  tells 
you  how  she  helped  many  of  Holly- 
wood's brightest  stars  with  their  fig- 
ure problems.  She  names  names — 
tells  you  how  she  developed  this  star's 
legs — how  she  reduced  that  star's 
waistline — how  she  helped  another 
star  to  achieve  a  beautiful  youthful 
figure. 

You  cannot  have  good  looks,  a 
beautiful  figure  nor  a  charming  per- 
sonality by  merely  wishing  for  them. 
But  beauty  should  be  yours — and 
Sylvia  of  Hollywood  has  packed  her 
book  brim-full  of  ideas  designed  to 
bring  out  the  latent  beauty   in  you. 

Bear  in  mind  that  all  of  Sylvia's  in- 
structions are  simple  to  follow.  You 
need  not  buy  any  equipment  what- 
soever. You  can  carry  out  all  of 
Sylvia's  beauty  secrets  right  in  the 
privacy  of  your  own  home. 

Read  Sylvia's  stimu- 
lating book  .  .  .  follow 
her  proven  methods 
.  .  .  you'll  experience  a 
new  thrill  in  living. 
Yes,  it  is  a  thrilling 
experience  to  see  those 
extra  pounds  disap- 
pear and  to  notice 
daily  improvement  in 
your  figure. 

This  marvelous  128- 
page  book  containing 
over  40  illustrations 
formerly  sold  for  $1.00 
in  a  stiff-back  bind- 
ing. Now  published 
in  an  economical  pa- 
per cover  you  get  the 
identical  information 
for  only  50c — and  we 
pay  postage.  Send  for 
your  copy  of  No  More 
Alibis — today. 

r------------T 

■  Bartholomew  House,   Inc.,  Dept.  RM-149  ■ 

'205  E.  42nd  Street,  New  York  17,  N.  Y. 

Send  me  postpaid  a  copy  of  No  More  Alibis  by  _ 
I  Sylvia  of  Hollywood.     I  enclose  50c.  I 


UName.  . 
I  Address . 

I  City 

1... 


Please  Print 


State . 


I 
I 
I 


R 
M 

79 


her  surroundings.  Not  that  she  felt  in- 
ferior to  them;  it  was,  rather,  something 
like  a  good  amateur  musician's  first 
attendance  at  a  symphony  concert.  A 
born  hostess  and  homemaker  herself, 
she  couldn't  help  but  be  impressed  by 
the  exquisite  perfection  of  the  lunch- 
eon, the  service,  the  house,  and  Mother 
Kendal's  manner. 

While  the  others  talked  she  thought 
about  it,  trying  to  put  it  into  words. 
.  "Gracious  living,"  she  said  finally,  at  a 
lull  in  the  conversation.  "That's  what 
it  is — been  on  the  tip  of  my  mind  all 
afternoon.  That's  what  this  house 
stands  for." 

Mrs.  Kendal  smiled  at  her,  genuinely 
pleased.  "Why,  Miss  Warren,  how  very 
kind  of  you  to  say  that!" 

Dorrie  blushed,  suddenly  shy  again. 
"It's  been  such  a  nice  luncheon,  Mrs. 
Kendal.  And  the  house  and  every- 
thing just  so — so  perfect.  I  don't  know 
how  you  do  it — " 

SAM  came  to  her  rescue;  Sam  could 
always  be  depended  upon  for  just  the 
right  word. 

"I  might  say,  Mrs.  Kendal,  that  my 
sister  is  a  famous  hostess  in  her  own 
small  circle,"  he  said  with  a  smile. 

"I'm  sure  she  is,"  Gil's  mother  agreed. 
"It's  an  American  trait,  don't  you  think? 
The  tradition  of  hospitality — are  you 
a  traditionalist,  too.  Miss  Warren?" 

"A  traditionalist?"  Bewildered,  Dor- 
rie turned  to  her  niece.  "Am  I,  Wendy?" 

"Yes,  darling,  you  are."  Wendy 
beamed  at  her,  suddenly  wanting  to 
hug  her.  She  was  so  proud  of  them 
both,  of  her  aunt  and  Sam.  Aunt  Dor- 
rie looked  smart  and  lovely  in  her  Elm- 
dale-made  "new  look"  suit — a  new  look 
which  she  laughingly  claimed  was 
twenty-five  years  old.  And  Sam — well, 
there  was  nowhere  that  Sam  wouldn't 
look  distinguished.  With  his  silvery 
head  and  his  fine,  strong  features,  he 
looked  as  at  home  here  amid  these 
luxurious  furnishings  as  he  looked  sit- 
ting in  the  old  swivel  chair  before  the 
scarred  roll-top  desk  in  the  Clarion 
office. 

"Your  fresh  gingerbread,"  she  went 
on,  "and  your  home-made  preserves, 
and  hot  mulled  cider  on  a  frosty  night 
— they're  all  traditions  you  keep  alive, 
Aunt  Dorrie.  I  could  go  on  reciting 
them  for  hours!"  Then  she  choked  sud- 
denly, realizing  with  surprise  and  a 
touch  of  sadness  that  these  things  were 
behind  her.  There  would  still  be  crisp 
winter  nights  in  Elmdale,  and  hot  cider 
waiting  at  home — but  she  wouldn't  be 
there.  She  would  be  here,  part  of  this 
quiet  magnificence. 

Her  hand  stole  across  the  space  be- 
tween her  and  Gil  on  the  sofa,  crept 
into  his,  and  he  pressed  it  reassuringly. 
"I  second  everything  Wendy  said,"  he 
said  heartily. 

Mrs.  Kendal  nodded.  "Personally,  I 
regard  it  as  a  precious  heritage.  I 
think  the  world  would  be  less  ugly  if 
people  practiced  it  more  generally.  The 
Victorians  knew  the  secret." 

"The  Victorians,"  Sam  reminded  her, 
"believed  in  keeping  all  their  skeletons 
locked  away  in  their  closets,  too.  I 
think  we're  blundering  our  way  into  a 
more  honest  view  of  life  than  that." 

Mrs.  Kendal's  smile  thinned  a  little. 
"You've  a  political  mind,  Mr.  Warren, 
and  I  have  the  greatest  respect  for  you. 
^  But  as  a  woman,  my  sphere  is  far  re- 
moved from  yours.  Women  played  their 
proper  part  in  the  war.  Now  they  must 


One  Wonderful  Day 

(Continued  jrom  page  63) 

step  back — into  the  all-important  back- 
ground of  a  man's  world." 

Her  tone  was  gentle,  with  just  the 
slightest  edge.  But  none  of  them  missed 
it.  Just  how  much  was  she  saying, 
Wendy  wondered.  She,  Wendy,  had  al- 
ready given  up  her  column  for  the 
Bulletin,  before  she  had  taken  over  the 
Clarion  during  her  father's  illness.  She 
had  promised  Gil  not  to  resume  it.  Now 
— did  Mother  Kendal  want  her  to  give 
up  her  beloved  daily  broadcast,  too? 
But  she  couldn't;  she  must  know  how 
much  it  meant  to  her.  Why,  it  was  a 
chance  to  talk  to  all  the  women  in 
America  every  day!  And  not  just  to 
them— with  them,  too.  Because  in  the 
letters  they  wrote,  in  the  comments 
they  sent  in  about  the  broadcast,  she 
heard  from  them,  learned  what  they 
were  doing  and  thinking. 

No,  Mother  Kendal  certainly  didn't 
mean  anything  about  the  broadcast. 
She  was  only  reminding  Wendy  that 
this  house  would  be  hers,  that  she  must 
live  up  to  and  keep  up  all  it  stood  for.  • 

Dorrie,  watching  Wendy's  face,  grave 
and  sweetly  serious  for  all  the  happi- 
ness in  it,  felt  a  sudden  impulse  to 
weep.  She  was  glad  when  Sam  moved 
to  go,  saying  that  he  had  to  see  a  man 
about  a  cutaway,  glad  when  the  butler 
closed  the  heavy  front  door  behind  the 
two  of  them. 

"Is  that  all  that  fellow  does?"  Sam 
asked  mildly.  "Spend  his  life  opening 
and  closing  doors?" 

"I  don't  know,"  Dorrie  answered.  "In 
books  they  polish  the  silver  a  lot.  Oh, 
Sam — " 

At  the  catch  in  her  voice  her  brother 
moved  closer,  squeezed  her  arm.  "Now, 
Dorrie — " 

"I  CAN'T  help  it,"  Dorrie  said.  "It's— 
1  it's  silly-sounding,  but  I'll  say  it  all 
the  same.  It's  like  Wendy's  being  taken 
prisoner.  And  she  doesn't  know  it.  Like 
— like  the  sleeping  beauty,  or  someone. 
I  watched  her  all  the  time.  She's  in 
love,  and  she  doesn't  know.  She's  be- 
ing taken  prisoner,  our  darling." 

If  Wendy  was  going  to  prison,  it  was 
gradually,  with  all  the  elegance  and 
fanfare  Mrs.  Kendal  could  call  up,  and 
with  the  loving  hands  of  her  own  peo- 
ple to  speed  her.  Aunt  Dorrie  spent  the 
weekend  with  her  at  her  New  York 
apartment,  and  on  Monday,  after  the 
broadcast.  Bertha,  who  had  helped 
Dorrie  with  the  Elmdale  house  for  as 
long  as  Wendy  could  remember,  arrived 
to  assist  with  the  last-minute  prepara- 
tions and  to  attend  the  wedding. 

Bertha  brought  a  gift,  which  she  took 
shyly  out  of  her  bag,  saying,  "I  don't 
know  when  you're  supposed  to  give  a 
wedding  present,  but  I  better  give  you 
mine  now.  Because  I  thought  maybe 
if  you  didn't  have  something  blue — 
you  know  the  saying  about  something 
old,  something  new,  something  bor- 
rowed and  something  blue — " 

"Oh,  Bertha — "  Wendy  was  touched, 
then  overwhelmed  as  she  looked  at  the 
bit  of  blue  enamel  and  seed  pearls  that 
Bertha  laid  in  her  palm.  "It's  the  most 
exquisite  locket  I've  ever  seen!  Bertha, 
I  don't  feel  right  about — " 

"I  don't  know  of  a  fitter  neck  to  wear 
it,"  said  Bertha,  almost  fiercely.  "It's  an 
heirloom.  Been  in  my  family  from  my 
great-great-grandmother.  She  brought 
it  from  England,  but  it's  French  work, 
so  I'm  told.  It's  a  real  happiness  to  me 
to  give  it  to  you.  Miss  Wendy — " 

Wendy     blinked     hard,     and    kissed 


Bertha,  and  it  was  then  that  Mark 
called.  His  voice,  properly  light,  but 
with  a  world  of  friendship  and  devo- 
tion underneath,  was  like  a  steadying 
hand  at  her  elbow. 

"Hello,  Wendy,"  he  said.  "I  just 
wanted  to  bid  my  bachelor  girl  friend  a 
fond  farewell." 

"I'm  glad  you  called,"  she  told  him 
gratefully.    "Are   you  in  town?" 

"Now  what  do  you  think?"  he 
laughed.  "With  a  wedding  scheduled 
two  hours  from  now — remember?" 

Then  he  actually  meant  to  be  there. 
She  was  surprised  at  the  relief  and 
pleasure  the  knowledge  gave  her.  "A 
wedding — my  wedding!"  she  laughed 
excitedly.  "Mark,  I'm  in  such  a  dither! 
Keep  your  fingers  crossed  for  me,  will 
you?" 

"IIIILL  DO,"  he  assured  her.  "Lots  of 

11  luck.  Miss  Warren.  Next  time  we 
meet,  it'll  be  Mrs.  Kendal.  I  won't  take 
any  more  time — I  just  want  to  say 
goodbye,  and  hello." 

Wendy  couldn't  see  it,  but  his  hand 
shook  and  there  was  cold  perspiration 
on  his  forehead  as  he  hung  up.  Wendy 
was  busy.  The  doorbell  rang  while  she 
was  at  the  phone — her  wedding  dress 
had  been  delivered.  She  lifted  it  from 
the  tissue  paper  and  held  it  up  to  her 
for  Aunt  Dorrie  and  Bertha  to  see. 

"Oh,  they  did  a  beautiful  job,"  Ber- 
tha sighed.  "It's  just  too  beautiful.  Miss 
Wendy.  That  off-the-shoulder  look,  and 
the  lace  insertions  to  match  the  veil — 
you'll  be  like  a  princess,  a  queen.  Oh, 
Miss  Wendy,  I  made  up  my  mind  "I 
wasn't  going  to  cry  until  the  last  min- 
ute, but — " 

Aunt  Dorrie  cried  a  little  too,  and 
Wendy  felt  like  it,  and  found  she  was 
too  excited  to  squeeze  out  a  tear.  "My 
wedding  day,"  she  said  shakily.  "It's 
true,  isn't  it?  For  the  first  time,  I  feel 
that  it's  really  happening.  I'm  going 
to  be  married.  This  is  my  wedding 
day." 

The  rest  of  the  afternoon  passed  in 
a  dream.  There  was  the  sleek  black 
limousine  drawing  up  before  the 
church,  a  graystone  pile  towering  mag- 
nificently against  the  cold  white  winter 
sun.  And  there  was  her  father's  arm, 
and  Aunt  Dorrie  carefully  looping  her 
veil,  and  the  double  line  of  curious 
strangers,  their  voices  murmuring  her 
name  and  Gil's. 

"Chin  up,"  Sam  whispered.  "Don't 
begrudge  them  a  glimpse  of  you.  You're 
a  beautiful  thing  to  see,  my  dear.  I  only 
wish  your  mother  were  here.  But  then 
.  .  .  perhaps  she  is." 

Now  the  interior  of  the  church — 
hushed,  expectant,  fragrant  with  great 
masses  of  flowers,  the  lights  and  the 
music  soft — and  she  was  moving  down 
the  aisle;  it  was  all  happening  so  quick-- 
ly  that  there  was  no  time  for  her  to 
see  it  all,  to  think,  to  feel.  Her  father 
stepping  aside,  and  Gil  standing  beside 
her,  and  the  minister's  voice — 

"Dearly  beloved,  we  are  gathered  to- 
gether here  in  the  sight  of  God  and  in 
the  face  of  this  company  to  join  to- 
gether this  man  and  this  woman — " 

Only  one  thing  spoiled  it.  Not  the 
wedding  itself — nothing  could  ever 
spoil  that  for  her.  She  was  glad  that 
Mrs.  Kendal  had  insisted  upon  the  full 
ceremony.  The  lights,  the  music,  the 
flowers,  the  assembled  guests  blended 
into  a  swelling,  splendid  symphony  that 
complemented  the  splendor  in  her  up- 
lifted heart.    But  at  the  reception  she 


saw  the  Langs,  Charles  and  Adele.  Not 
only  saw  them,  but  had  to  speak  to 
them  and  smile  and  offer  her  hand.  And 
then  later,  when  the  receiving  line  had 
broken  up  and  the  party  was  swirling 
about  her,  Gil  asked,  "Wendy,  have 
you  spoken  to  the  Langs?  Be  nice  to 
them,  won't  you,  sweet?  I  think  they're 
feeling  a  little  out  of  things." 

"But,  Gil—" 

But  he  was  gone,  saying  hurriedly 
over  his  shoulder,  "I've  got  to  find  Gor- 
don Hunter.  Maggie's  had  too  much  to 
drink,  and  she's  in  hysterics." 

"Wendy  didn't  seek  out  the  Langs.  She 
let  the  crowded  room  remain  between 
them  and  her,  and  felt  guilty  about  it, 
and  worried  lest  Gil  ask  her  about  it 
afterward.  That  is,  she  worried  until 
the  reception  was  over  and  they  were 
alone  in  Gil's  car,  and  she  knew  that 
he'd  forgotten  everything  in  the  world 
but  her. 

He  caught  her  to  him  with  his  free 
arm,  and  Wendy  relaxed  against  him, 
half  laughing  with  weariness.  "Oh,  Gil, 
it  was  beautiful  and  unforgettable — all 
of  it.   But  so  many  people — " 

"We're  done  with  them  now,"  he 
laughed.  "There  are  just  the  two  of 
us." 

"The  two  of  us — "  Her  voice  sang 
softly  over  the  words.  "And  a  great 
dark  world  outside.  Oh,  Gil,  my  "dar- 
ling—" 

This,  too,  was  unforgettable — the  car 
slipping  silently  out  of  the  city  in  the 
winter  night,  turning  into  the  parkway, 
carrying  them  swiftly  past  the  suburbs, 
past  the  little  towns  with  their  lights 
orange  on  the  snow.  Then  they  were  in  - 
the  country,  the  white  fields  all  around 
them,  overhead  the  deep  poignant  star- 
struck  blue  of  the  winter  sky. 

n'ENDY  moved  even  closer  to  Gil,  if 
that  were  possible,  and  turned  her 
hand  in  his.  "Gil — " 

"Yes,   darling — " 

She  didn't  know  what  she'd  been  go- 
ing to  say.  That  is,  she  knew,  but  there 
was  simply  too  much  of  it,  too  much  in 
her  heart  to  put  into  words.  The  last 
glimpse  of  her  father  and  Dorrie  as 
she  had  left  the  reception,  her  last  con- 
versation with  Mark,  his  words  easy 
and  bantering  as  always,  and  on  his 
face  a  look  that  was  queerly  tight  and 
desperate,  as  if  all  the  time  she'd  been 
his  Wendy  had  come  back  to  him  out 
of  the  past  all  at  once.  And  Nona — 
wishing  her  happiness  with  real  affec- 
tion and  sincerity,  while  Wendy  knew 
how  much  it  must  be  costing  her,  knew 
that  in  her  heart  Nona  must  hate  her, 
not  for  herself,  but  because  of  her  place 
beside  Gil.  And  Bertha,  tearful  to  the 
last  ...  all  of  Wendy's  past  life  tied  up, 
done  with,  left  behind  her  at  the  wed- 
ding reception. 

And  Gil  was  worth  it,  all  of  it — that 
was  what  she  wanted  to  say  to  him. 
Whatever  she  was  giving  up,  whatever 
she'd  had  and  loved  and  could  never 
return  to,  she  had  gained  much  more. 
But  she  couldn't  say  it.  She  could  only 
look  at  him  with  her  heart  in  her  eyes, 
and  hold  tightly  to  his  hand,  and  com- 
promise by  saying,  "I  love  you." 

"And  I  love  you,"  he  returned.  Per- 
haps he  caught  something  of  her 
thoughts  because  he  added,  "I  want  you 
to  be  happy,  Wendy — that's  what  I  want 
most  in  this  world.  I  want  to  keep  you 
safe  and  never  let  you  be  hurt — " 

She  laughed  softly.  "Nothing  can 
hurt  me  now,  Gil.  Nothing  can  ever 
hurt  me,  as  long  as  we're  together." 
Then  she  straightened,  her  voice  rising 
excitedly.  "Gil,  there's  our  house — 
and  there's  a  light  in  the  window!" 

He  smiled  at  her  alarm.    "I  turned 


it  on  by  remote  control.     Surprised?" 

"Gil,  you  didn't — there  isn't  anyone 
there?" 

"No,  sweet,"  he  laughed.  "But  you'll 
find  a  fire  burning  and  a  supper  for  two. 
The  housekeeper  didn't  leave  until  sev- 
en. I  telephoned  her  during  the  recep- 
tion." 

"Oh!"  She  sank  back  with  a  sigh  of 
relief.  "You're  a  wonderful,  ingenious 
man,  and  I'm  very  glad  I  married  you." 

"I'm  glad  you're  glad."  He  stopped 
the  car  before  the  house,  and  as  Wendy 
made  no  move  to  get  out,  asked,  "Are 
we  spending  our  honeymoon  in  the  car? 
It's  nice — but  restricted." 

"I'm  afraid  to  move,"  said  Wendy. 
"Afraid  to  break  the  spell." 

"It's  a  permanent  spell,"  said  Gil, 
opening  the  door  and  coming  around 
to  help  her  out.  "It's  guaranteed  un- 
breakable.   Your  hand,  milady." 

SHE  gave  him  her  hand,  and  he  drew 
her  into  the  circle  of  his  arm  as  they 
walked  up  the  path  toward  the  house. 
"I'm  glad  the  lights  are  on,"  Wendy  de- 
cided. "It's  so  friendly  and  warm  to 
come  home  to,  as  though  we'd  just  come 
away  a  little  while  ago,  and  now  we're 
back  again — to  stay." 

If  there  was  a  wistfulness  in  her  voice 
that  they  wouldn't  go  on  living  at  the 
cottage  as  she'd  first  hoped,  she  wasn't 
aware  of  it,  nor  was  Gil.  He  opened 
the  door,  and  as  Wendy  stood  still  on 
the  threshold,  urged  her  gently.  "After 
you,  darling." 

"But — "  She  smiled  up  at  him  ex- 
pectantly. His  answering  smile  was 
puzzled,  inquiring. 

"What  goes,  sweet?" 

"You're  forgetting,"  said  Wendy. 
"You  mustn't  forget." 

"Forgetting,  Oh — you  mean  to  ga- 
rage the  car.  Never  mind.  Let  it  wait." 

"No,  Gil.  The  threshold."  She  gave 
a  little  confused  laugh.  "It's  an  old  cus- 
tom, isn't  it?  To  carry  the  bride 
across — " 

"Oh!"  He  tapped  his  forehead  de- 
spairingly. "Kendal,  you  go  to  the 
foot  of  the  class."  He  lifted  her,  pre- 
tended to  toss  her  gently  in  his  arms. 
"Darling,  you're  feather-light,  so  light 
you  could  float  away.  Just  so  you  don't 
float  away  from  me — There!"  He  set 
her  down  inside,  shut  the  door  behind 
him.     "Any  more  customs?" 

"I — don't  think  so." 

He  frowned.  "Why  would  I  forget 
that  one?  Annoys  me — " 

"Don't  let  it,  darling,"  she  told  him 
lightly.     "We  aren't  superstitious." 

No,  she  wasn't  superstitious,  but  she 
wished  heartily  that  she  hadn't  men- 
tioned the  matter  of  the  threshold.  It 
had  been  a  slip,  the  kind  of  slip  she'd 
be  all  too  likely  to  make  from  now  on. 
In  Elmdale  the  observance  of  little 
customs  was  important  and  fun;  Gil's 
circle  would  be  hardly  aware  of  them. 
She  must  remember  not  to  make  this 
kind  of  small  mistake  again;  she  must 
try  to  be  exactly  what  Gil  wanted. 

"Why  are  we  standing  here  in  the 
hall?"  he  asked.  "Let's  have  your 
coat,  Mrs.  Kendal." 

"Say  that  again,"  said  Wendy,  try- 
ing to  cover  the  restraint  between  them. 

"Say  what?     Your  coat?" 

"Mrs.  Kendal,"  she  corrected  him. 
"I  must  memorize  it — I've  got  to  be- 
lieve it.  Mrs.  Kendal.  Mrs.  Gilbert 
Kendal." 

He  laughed  and  bent  as  if  to  kiss 
her— and  didn't  kiss  her.  Instead,  he 
helped  her  off  with  her  coat,  hung  it 
away  in  the  closet,  removed  his  own. 
"You  darling,"  he  said.  "You  adorable 
girl — let's  go  in  by  the  fire,  say  hello  to 
our   home." 


Avoid  underarm 
irritation . . . 


...  use 


YODORA 

the  deodorant  that  is 
ACTUALLY  SOOTHING 


Looks  bad,  feels  bad,  when  underarm  skin  gets 
red  and  irritated.  That's  why  more  women 
every  day  turn  to  Yodora,  the  gentler  cream 
deodorant.  Yodora  stops  perspiration  odor 
quickly,  safely ...  it  is  actually  soothing  to 
normal  skin,  because  it  is  made  with  a  face 
cream  base,  with  no  harsh  acid  salts  to  cause 
irritation.  Tubes  or  jars,  10^,  30(i,  60^. 
McKesson  &  Robbins,  Inc.,  Bridgeport,  Conn. 


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Wendy  walked  ahead  of  him,  wish- 
ing that  he  had  kissed  her  there  in  the 
hall.  It  might  have  put  an  end  to  this 
unaccountable  strangeness  between 
them,  this  stiffness. 

"Mrs.  Gilbert  Kendal  of  Dream- 
house,  Long  Island,"  she  murmured, 
making  conversation.  "Formerly,  Miss 
Wendy  Warren,  of  Elmdale,  Connecti- 
cut .  .  .  entertains  at  tea —  Yes,  I  believe 
it  now.  I  believe  in  Mrs.  Gilbert  Ken- 
dal." 

"Good.  I  hoped  you  might,"  he  said. 
"And  now — shall  we  sit  down?" 

Here  was  another  small  stumbling 
block,  monumental  at  the  moment. 
Wendy  hesitated  between  the  small 
table,  with  the  food  set  out  on  it  in 
covered  dishes,  and  the  corner  of  the 
sofa  nearest  the  fireplace.  Was  Gil 
hungry?  Would  he  want  to  have  sup- 
per right  away?  He'd  given  her  no 
indication  of  his  wishes.  Finally  she 
chose  the  sofa.  She  sat  down,  saying 
in  a  high-pitched,  unnatural  voice, 
"How  nice!  I  haven't  sat  down  for 
weeks!  What  a  strange,  delightful 
thing  to  do!"  Gil  didn't  laugh.  After  a 
brief,  dreadful  pause,  she  went  on, 
"Do  you  hear  a  pipe-organ  playing  Lo- 
hengrin?" 

"No."  He  smiled  a  little  at  that,  and 
drew  up  a  hassock  to  sit  at  her  feet. 
"It's  only  the  echo  of  an  echo." 

"The  echo  of  an  echo,"  Wendy  re- 
peated. And  then  there  was  another 
pause.  "We're  really  alone  here,  aren't 
we?     This  is  such  a  welcoming  room." 

"I'll  stir  up  the  fire  a  bit."  He  rose 
as  if  glad  of  having  found  something 
to  do,  threw  another  log  on  the  fire. 
"There— that'll  do.     Hungry?" 

"Are  you?"  She  was  glad  the  question 
of  food  had  come  up.  Not  that  she  was 
hungry,  but  at  least  one  point  would 
be  settled. 

"Umm-n,"  said  Gil,  which  settled 
nothing  after  all.  But  he  reseated  him- 
self on  the  hassock.  "Expecting  some- 
one?" he  asked.  "Sofas  are  made  to 
lean  back  on." 

"I'd  forgotten."  She  laughed  self- 
consciously, realizing  that  she'd  been 
sitting  stiffly  on  the  edge  of  the  sofa. 
She  relaxed — or  gave  a  good  imitation 
of  relaxing,  and  Gil  reached  for  a  cig- 
arette from  the  silver  box  at  her  elbow. 
"Windy  out,"  he  observed. 

"February,"  Wendy  corroborated. 

"That  old  month,"  he  said.  "Every- 
body knows  what  to  expect  of  itl"  Then 
they  both  laughed  self-consciously. 
"Shall  I  turn  on  the  radio?" 

"If  you  like,"  she  assented. 

"Well — maybe  silence  is  cosier,"  he 
decided. 


There  was  nothing  cosy  about  this 
silence.  Her  throat  ached;  she  felt 
wooden  and  awkward  as  never  before 
in  her  life.  This  terrible  stiffness  and 
strangeness  between  Gil  and  her — she 
had  to  put  an  end  to  it  somehow. 
"Sometimes,"  she  said  painfully,  "things 
seem  to  take  forever.  But  then  they 
happen,  and  it's  no  time  at  all.  I  mean 
— my  becoming  Mrs.  Gilbert  Kendal." 

"Now  there's  a  girl  for  you,"  said 
Gil.  "What  I  could  tell  you  about  her  I 
Born  with  a  taste  for  silver  spoons, 
came  to  the  big  city,  laid  snares  for 
her  boss,  dragged  him  to  the  altar, 
lived  happily  ever  after." 

She  laughed  nervously,  catching  a  lit- 
tle of  his  phony  heartiness.  "I  resent 
that  bit  about  silver  spoons.  Otherwise, 
it's  accurate.  Oh,  Gil — "  and  a  note  of 
real  distress  crept  into  her  voice — "sup- 
pose it  had  been  some  other  girl?" 

"Some  other  newspaper  girl?  Queenie 
Kirk,   perhaps?" 

"I  mean  a  pretty  girl,"  Wendy  went 
on.  "And  suppose  you  and  she  had 
been  married  today.  And  I  slipped  into 
the  church  and  cried." 

"In  a  black  veil — " 

"Pink.  I  guess  I'd  hate  that  girl, 
although  I'd  have  no  right  to."  She 
stopped,  thinking  of  Nona,  but  Gil 
didn't  notice.  He  was  still  playing  the 
game. 

"And  you'd  go  back  to  your  desk," 
he  went  on,  "and  pound  out  a  scathing 
indictment  of  her  wedding ,  dress — " 

"And  be  fired  because  of  it,"  Wendy 
put  in,  "and  end  up  a  gentle  spinster 
with  kind,  understanding  eyes — " 

"That,"  said  Gil  dolefully,  "is  the 
saddest  story  I've  ever  heard." 

"Well,"  she  said,  "it  would  be,  if  it 
had  happened.  Only  you  wouldn't 
know  about  it.  You  and  that  Mrs.  Gil- 
bert Kendal." 

"She  only  married  me  for  wealth  and 
position,"  said  Gil.  "Later  she  eloped 
with  a  phony  Balkan  count.  Did  that 
open  my  eyes!" 

Wendy's  laughter  had  a  ragged  edge. 
The  game  had  run  out — and  there 
seemed  nowhere  else  to  go.  Were  they 
going  on  forever,  strangers  making  po- 
lite talk,  grimacing  politely  at  each 
other?  This  was  Gil,  her  husband — 
but  the  word  "husband"  had  a  false 
ring,    even   in   her   thoughts. 

"Well — "  he  cleared  his  throat  des- 
perately.    "I — " 

She  never  learned  what  he'd  been 
about  to  say,  because  suddenly  they 
were  plunged  into  complete  darkness. 

"Gil — what  happened  to  the  lights?" 

"They've  gone  out."  She  could  hear 
him   getting   up,   feeling   about   in   the 


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dark. 

"Thank  you,  darling,"  she  said  in  his 
general  direction.  "I  like  a  straight 
answer  to  my  questions.  Power  fail- 
ure?" 

"I  hope  not.  Hope  it's  just  a  fuse." 
She  saw  his  silhouette  against  the  win- 
dow, and  then  he  said,  "Can't  see  any 
other  houses,  but  I  guess  we're  too  far 
away.  I'll  have  to  find  the  fuse  box. 
There  should  be  a  fiashlight  and  candles 
in  the  pantry.  Don't  go  away,  Mrs. 
Kendal—" 

Go  away!  She  sat  huddled  in  her 
corner  of  the  sofa,  unable  to  move.  The 
excitement  of  the  day,  the  terrible  un- 
natural tension  between  her  and  Gil, 
and  now  this,  this  complete,  terrifying 
darkness.  She  was  afraid  of  the  dark, 
always  had  been,  and  no  amount  of 
reasoning  or  rationalization  would 
change  her.  And  now  Gil  was  leaving 
her,  blundering  his  way  out  of  the 
room,  leaving  her  alone  in  the  dark. 

S:HE  heard  a  door  close,  heard  him 
stumble,  heard  his  smothered  excla- 
mation. She  started  up  in  panic,  crying, 
"Gil — Gil,  darling,  are  you  hurt?  Where 
are  you?" 

He  answered  her,  she  thought,  but 
she.  was  really  too  frightened  to  hear. 
She  stumbled  after  him,  feeling  her 
way,  crying  his  name.  Where  was  he? 
In  the  pantry?  But  where  was  the 
pantry?  She  pushed  open  a  door, 
tripped — and  fell  squarely  into  his 
arms. 

"Wendy,  darling — "  He  was  half- 
laughing,  half-alarmed.  "What's  the 
matter?" 

"I  was  so  afraid.  I  thought  you  were 
hurt,  and  I  was  so  afraid — "  She  was 
almost  babbling  in  her  relief.  "I  was 
always  afraid  of  the  dark.  Even  when 
I  was  a  little  girl,  I  had  to  have  a  night- 
light — And  in  this  house,  even  if  it  is 
our  house,  I  felt  so  strange,  so  lost — 
Oh,  Gil—" 

"The  last  was  a  whisper.  He  was 
kissing  her,  holding  her  so  hard  and 
close  that  she  could  feel  his  heart  beat 
as  if  it  were  her  own,  kissing  her 
hungrily,  as  if  he  had  been  starved  for 
her  kisses  .  .  .  until  the  strangeness  and 
the  terror  were  gone,  until  she  was 
aware  only  of  the  singing  of  her  blood, 
of  their  sweet  and  urgent  need  of  each 
other  .  .  . 

In  the  old  Douglas  farmhouse  out- 
side Elmdale,  Mark  sat  typing  at  a 
table  beside  the  fireplace.  Daylight 
had  long  since  gone,  and  he'd  turned 
on  only  the  one  necessary  lamp,  so  that 
Bob,  coming  in  from  the  evening  chores, 
found  the  man  and  the  clacking  ma- 
chine silhouetted  against  a  small  pool 
of  yellow  light. 

"What  goes?"  Bob  asked.  "I  thought 
you'd  be — "  He  stopped,  tactfully  de- 
ciding that  it  would  be  better  not  to 
say  "I  thought  you'd  be  resting  up  after 
the  wedding." 

"Plenty,"  answered  Mark.  "I've 
started  a  novel.     It's  going  good,  too."- 

Now  there  was  something  for  you, 
Bob  thought.  He'd  just  seen  his  girl 
married  to  another  guy — and  he  came 
home  and  started  a  novel. 

"What's  it  called?"  he  asked  cau- 
tiously. 

"Make  Dust  Our  Paper."  At  Bob's 
blank  look,  he  quoted,  "It's  from  Shake- 
speare. 'Let's  talk  of  graves  and  worms 
and  epitaphs:  Make  dust  our  paper, 
and  with  rainy  eyes  write  sorrow  on 
the  bosom  of  the  earth.'  " 

Bob  nodded  solemnly.  "That's  okay. 
Yeah — even  a  cluck  like  me  gets  it. 
What's  it  about?" 

"People,"  said  Mark.  "About  a  mar- 
riage that — well,  doesn't  work  out  .  .  ." 


World  Full  of  Neighbors 

(Continued  from  page  35) 


partly  my  fault;  I  was  late  for  the 
show.  That  day — the  day  on  which 
all  programs  had  been  cancelled  in 
order  to  make  way  for  convention 
broadcasts — I  picked  to  be  late. 

Someone  would  doubtless  have  been 
kind  enough  to  tell  me,  if  anyone  had 
dared  risk  life  and  limb  by  getting  in 
my  way  as  I  sped  down  corridors  and 
whizzed  around  corners  to  get  to  the 
studio.  Just  as  I  reached  the  door  the 
theme  music  started,  and  without  even 
taking  off  my  hat  I  burst  into  song. 
Some  kind  soul  shoved  a  script  into 
my  hand,  and  we  were  off. 

Indeed  we  were!  First,  Eddie  fum- 
bled his  lines.  After  thirty  seconds 
(it  seems  like  as  many  hours  on  the 
air)  of  stuttering,  he  ended  up  by  drop- 
ping his  script  all  over  the  floor.  All 
over.  I  jumped  into  the  breach  and 
ad-libbed  until  he  got  the  papers  as- 
sembled again  motioning  him  to  get  up 
off  the  floor  so  that  we  could  go  on. 
That  was  my  second  mistake.  He  got 
up,  all  right — knocking  over  the  micro- 
phone in  the  process. 

This  was  an  emergency  I  had  not  been 
prepared  by  experience  to  face.  But 
I  rose  nobly  to  it,  motioning  the  trio 
to  start  on  the  number  we  had  re- 
hearsed, while  Eddie  righted  his  sec- 
ond wrong.  That  should  have  straight- 
ened things  out.  And  so  it  would  have 
— if  the  trio  had  been  playing,  and  I  had 
been  singing,  the  same  song.  The  sec- 
ond time  through  they  found  them- 
selves, switched  to  the  right  number. 
Only  a  soprano,  however,  could  have 
managed  the  key  in  which  they  chose 
to  play  it. 

You  can't  imagine  how  I  felt,  because 
I'm  pretty  sure  I'm  the  only  living  hu- 
man being  who  ever  felt  just  that  way. 
Fortunately,  the  boys  couldn't  keep  it 
up  any  longer.  They  laughed,  and  then 
I  laughed,  and  the  show  broke  up  in 
disorder. 

THEY  finally  explained  that  the  con- 
vention had  usurped  our  broadcast 
time  and  we  weren't  really  on  the  air. 
It  was  half  an  hour  before  I  could 
speak,  and  I'm  not  sure  that  my  blood 
pressure  has  gone  back  to  normal  even 
yet.  I've  managed  to  be  a  little  ahead 
of  time  for  broadcasts  ever  since. 

From  this  you  may  gather  that  there's 
a  certain  informality  about  the  Jack 
Berch  Show.  We  like  to  think  of  our- 
selves as  coming  into  your  living  room 
for  a  visit  every  morning.  After 
all,  you'd  get  pretty  tired  of  stiff  and 
formal  guests  every  day,  wouldn't  you? 
That's  my  workday.  When  it's  over, 
I  go  home.  Home's  a  farmhouse,  a  good, 
comfortable  distance  from  New  York, 
for  I  feel  that  although  I  work  in  the 
city  that's  no  reason  for  me  to  coop 
myself  and  my  family  up  in  the  kind 
of  apartment  that  so  many  New  York- 
ers call  home.  It  takes  me  about  an 
hour  to  drive  each  way,  but,  being  a 
farm  boy  at  heart,  it's  worth  it. 

The  house  is  an  old  one,  pleasantly 
rambling,  and  we  love  it.  There's  plenty 
of  room  for  kids,  lots  of  outdoors  in 
which  to  run  my  dogs.  Like  the  house, 
our  family  is  old  fashioned — at  least,  in 
size.  And,  come  to  think  of  it,  in  a  lot 
of  other  ways,  too.  Comfortably,  sat- 
isfyingly  old  fashioned.  Margo  is  my 
wife,  and  we  have  four  children,  three 
girls  and  one  boy. 

I  remember  my  mother  once  saying 
to  me  (she  loved  kids,  too),  "You'll 
find,  Jack,  that  after  the  first  couple  of 


children,  the  next  one  and  the  next 
don't  cost  so  much."  Mother  was  quite 
right — to  a  point.  It's  true  that  the 
cost  per  unit  goes  down,  but  she  neg- 
lected to  mention  the  general  overhead. 
That  goes  up  and  up  .  .  . 

Pretty  satisfactory  youngsters,  we 
think  they  are,  Margo  and  I.  It  makes 
me  very  happy  to  report  that  there's 
not  a  genius  in  the  lot,  not  one  child 
prodigy  among  'em.  Carol,  who's  seven- 
teen, and  Shirley,  thirteen,  would  a 
whole  lot  rather  walk  down  to  the  vil- 
lage for  an  ice  cream  soda  and  a  ses- 
sion at  the  juke  box  than  take  their 
piano  lessons.  Son  Jon,  at  five  years 
old,  can't  quote  a  line  of  Shakespeare 
or  add  up  a  column  of  figures  in  his 
head.  His  interests  tend  toward  new 
toys  or  funny  books.  (He's  become 
quite  a  business  man;  traded  three 
fifteen-cent  Roy  Rogerses  for  one  ten- 
cent  Superman.  We  trust  he'll  out- 
grow this  tendency,  or  the  overhead 
will  go  upper  and  upper.) 

AS  FOR  me,  I'm  famous.  This  has 
nothing  to  do  with  miy  work  on  the 
radio.  Not  long  ago  I  gave  a  lecture  in 
our  Town  Hall.  Subject:  Raising  Good 
Melons.  I  also  worked  in  something  on 
cross  pollination  of  various  fruits.  I 
was,  for  a  while,  the  local  sensation. 
Some  of  the  neighbors  began  to  call  me 
The  Melon  Man.  (Margo  insists  that 
I  just  misunderstood;  what  they  said 
was  "Melon  Head."  A  short  consulta- 
tion with  my  mirror  convinced  me  that 
this  was  unjust;  obviously  the  woman's 
jealous  because  no  one  asked  her  to 
make  a  speech.  I  much  more  resemble  a 
squash  than  a  melon!) 

If  you've  ever  lived  on  the  land,  you'll 
know  what  I  mean  when  I  say  that  I 
have  a  typical  farmer's  attitude  toward 
waste.  Prompted  by  this,  and  because 
I  like  to  hunt,  I  enrolled  in  a  course  in 
butchery  at  one  of  the  local  schools  last 
fall.  This,  of  course,  made  it  necessary 
for  me  to  have,  in  my  basement,  a  block 
and  a  full  set  of  knives  and  cleavers 
and  all  the  rest  of  the  paraphernalia. 
(Shirley  says  she  could  name  several 
other  butchers  who  have  their  own  ra- 
dio shows,  so  I  needn't  think  I  have  a 
corner  on  the  idea.  She  will,  I  trust, 
mellow  with  the  years.)  Anyway,  what 
I  hunt,  I  butcher,  what  I  butcher  goes 
into  the  deep  freeze,  and  the  Berches 
have  out-of-season  game  the  year 
around. 

Cooking  is  my  first  love,  with  eating 
a  close  second,  and  the  family,  fortu- 
nately, shares  this  latter  affection. 
Sometimes  a  look,  which  I  have  never 
been  able  to  interpret  to  my  entire  sat- 
isfaction, goes  the  rounds  of  the  family 
when  I  announce  that  tonight  I'm  going 
to  get  dinner.  But  I  maintain  that 
what  I  put  before  them  is  tasty  and 
tempting,  as  they  say  on  the  women's 
programs.  At  least,  they  eat  it.  No 
one  says,  "No,  thanks,"  and  turns  away. 

No  one  has  to  force  me,  or  even  ask 
me,  to  cook.  But  washing  dishes  I  will 
do  only  at  the  point  of  a  gun.  This 
aversion  stems  from  an  experience  of 
years  back  that  still  sends  me  into  a 
cold  sweat  every  time  I  remember  it.. 

I  used  to  work  as  a  busboy  after 
school.  My  job  was  to  collect  the 
dishes  in  a  large  cart  and  roll  them  out 
to  the  washers  in  the  kitchen.  One  day 
the  cart  tipped  over.  I  couldn't  pos- 
sibly pay  for  all  the  dishes  that  were 
broken,  so  I  was  promptly  promoted  to 
dishwasher  by  the   owner   of  the  res- 


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taurant.  For  over  a  month  I  washed 
dishes  in  the  daytime  and  dreamed 
about  washing  them  at  night,  until  at 
last  I'd  worked  out  my  bondage.  I 
made,  on  that  last  day,  a  solemn  vow: 
never  again,  as  long  as  I  lived,  would  I 
wash  a  dish.  I've  had  to,  once  in  a 
while,  but  on  the  whole  I've  kept  that 
promise. 

My  cooking  is  done  with  artistic  li- 
cense— which  includes  dirtying  every 
bowl  and  utensil  and  pan  in  the  house, 
and  generally  going  through  the  kitchen 
like  a  high  wind.  When  cleanup  time 
comes,  and  I  blanch  and  turn  green  at 
the  sight  of  the  mess,  I  summon  my 
daughters  to  this  woman's  work.  You'd 
think  the  girls  would  be  used  to  it  by 
now,  but  each  time  they  raise  howls  of 
protest.  I  am  not,  I  admit,  above  bri- 
bery at  such  times.  The  girls  are  well 
aware  of  this  flaw  in  my  character  and 
play  it  for  all  it's  worth.  Each  time, 
the  ante  goes  up.  Not  long  ago,  I  had 
to  take  them  to  a  Broadway  show  after 
one  particularly  artistic  culinary  fling 
of  mine. 

DID  I  say  there  was  no  genius  in  our 
family?  Pardon  me,  girls — you  do 
have  a  flair  for  taking  Dad  over. 

You  can  see  from  all  this  that  in 
our  house  we're  all  pretty  good  friends. 
We  try  to  work  out  whatever  snags 
we  come  across  on  a  basis  of  reasoning, 
and  Margo  and  I  don't  believe  in  the 
"don't  do  as  I  do,  do  as  I  tell  you"  at- 
titude which  keeps  some  parents  and 
their  children  miles  apart. 

That  same  friendliness,  that  same 
feeling  of  wanting  to  knew  the  other 
fellow's  point  of  view,  I  try  to  carry 
over  into  the  program,  too.  Every  day 
except  Thursday  we  have  our  Heart  to 
Heart  Hookup,  and  on  Thursdays,  the 
Good  Neighbor  Club.  The  whole  point 
of  the  Club  is  to  tell  the  stories  of  peo- 
ple who  have  proved  themselves  good 
neighbors,  of  acts  done  out  of  kindness 
and  not  for  material  gain.  In  this 
way  we  make  the  small  news,  the 
stories  which  are  carried  on  the  back 
pages  of  the  newspapers,  into  big  news 
over  the  air. 

The  Club  is  open  to  everyone — no  dis- 
tinctions of  race,  creed  or  color  here — 
and  the  by-laws  are  simple:  The 
Golden  Rule.  Of  course,  we  haven't 
time  to  read,  on  the  program,  all  the 
clippings  received — there  were  more 
than  a  million  last  year — so  we  have  to 
satisfy  ourselves  with  choosing  the  one 
we  think  best  exemplifies  our  "do  as 
you  would  be  done  by"  belief  for  the 
program  each  Thursday. 

The  first  member  of  the  Good  Neigh- 
bors Club  was  Mrs.  James  E.  Spaar  of 
Dearborn,  Michigan.  She  sent  us  clip- 
pings from  the  Detroit  News  about  a 
kindly,  thoughtful  neighbor  who  had 
collected  more  than  a  thousand  dollars 
to  provide  a  new  home  for  a  couple  and 
their  blind  and  paralyzed  daughter 
when  the  family  faced  eviction.  That 
started  the  ball  rolling,  and  stories  like 
that  have  been  coming  in  ever  since. 

One  of  the  stories  I  like  best  con- 
cerns the  staff  of  the  Pottstown  Mercury 
and  the  good  citizens  of  Pottstown, 
Pennsylvania.  For  ten  months  one  of 
their  neighbors,,  seventeen-year-old 
Nancy  Dalgleish,  had  been  having  treat- 
ments for  spastic  paralysis  at  a  Phila- 
delphia hospital.  Slowly,  but  encour- 
agingly, those  treatments  were  chang- 
ing Nancy  from  a  helpless  cripple  to  a 
normal  young  woman.  Then  more 
trouble  came  to  the  Dalgleish  family. 
Nancy's  mother,  they  were  told,  was  to 
have  an  operation.  That  made  it  im- 
possible for  them  to  pay  the  huge  hos- 
pital   bill    the    operation    would    entail 


and  still  keep  up  Nancy's  treatments  as 
well.  It  looked,  for  a  while,  as  if 
Nancy's  chances  of  cure  were  at  an  end. 

Then  someone  on  the  Mercury  heard 
about  it  and  the  story  was  published 
in  the  paper.  It  touched  the  hearts  of 
the  people  of  Pottstown  just  as  it 
touched  mine.  More  practically,  it 
touched  their  pocketbooks,  too.  Money 
began  to  roll  into  the  Mercury's  offices, 
totaling,  finally,  not  only  the  eighteen 
hundred  dollars  necessary  to  pay  the 
hospital  bills,  but  a  wonderful  eight 
thousand  dollars  in  all. 

Nancy's  gone  on  to  the  Berry  Foun- 
dation School  now,  and  has  been  prom- 
ised complete  recovery  by  her  doctors. 

Here's  another  story  I  like  to  tell. 
This  happened  at  the  Indian  Reserva- 
tion at  Wellpinit,  Washington.  Last  De- 
cember, during  all  the  bustle  of  Christ- 
mas festivities,  a  widow,  Mrs.  Cecelia 
Abrahamson,  hurried  to  help  a  sick 
neighbor  to  do  her  housework  and 
care  for  her  children.  While  she  was 
gone,  Mrs.  Abrahamson's  house  burned 
to  the  ground,  and  in  the  fire  her  two 
daughters  and  her  grandchildren  were 
burned  to  death. 

The  grief-stricken  woman  had  no 
place  to  go.  Neighbors  took  her  in, 
but  that  could  be  only  a  temporary 
arrangement. 

The  local  Spokane  Review  heard  the 
story  and  publicized  the  plight  of  this 
kindly  and  charitable  old  Indian 
woman.  The  reaction  was  tremendous. 
From  all  over  the  country  came  dona- 
tions to  help  in  the  rebuilding  of  her 
home. 

This,  of  course,  was  wonderful — but 
Mrs.  Abrahamson  couldn^t  build  her 
own  house,  people  decided.  Delegations 
of  tradesmen — bricklayers,  laborers, 
carpenters,  everyone  who  could  pos- 
sibly be  useful — appeared  on  the  scene. 
After  hours  and  on  weekends  they 
worked,  without  pay.  In  what  is  prob- 
ably record  time  for  housebuilding,  the 
new  home  was  completed. 

CHRISTMAS  spirit?  Out  in  Wellpinit, 
that  doesn't  mean  buying  presents 
because  it's  the  thing  to  do,  giving  gifts 
because  you  know  you'll  get  one  in  re- 
turn. Christmas  spirit  in  Wellpinit,  and 
in  thousands  of  other  communities  all 
over  the  country,  means  giving  of  your- 
self, your  time,  your  talents — because 
your  heart  tells  you  to. 

When  I  think  of  essential  goodness, 
of  faith,  I  like  to  remember  something 
my  son  Jonny  said  to  me  •not  so  long 
ago.  He'd  just  lost  his  dog,  and  that 
was  the  first  real  tragedy  of  his  young 
life.  I  didn't  know  quite  what  to  say 
to  him,  how  to  go  about  comforting 
him.  But  he  supplied  the  right  words, 
explained  to  me  his  philosophy,  al- 
though of  course  he  didn't  call  it  that. 
It's  the  philosophy  of  the  very  young, 
and  of  those  older  ones  among  us  who 
have  managed  to  carry  the  sense  of 
proportion  of  youth  in  our  hearts 
through  life. 

"My  dog  is  still  with  me,  Dad,"' 
Jonny  told  me.  "There  he  is." 

I  followed  the  direction  of  his  point- 
ing finger,  and  I  saw  that  Jonny  had 
taken  the  North  Star  for  his  dog. 
Wherever  the  boy  goes,  his  dog  will  go 
with  him,  following  faithfully  long 
past  a  dog's  life  span. 

I've  been  getting  pretty  serious, 
haven't  I?  That's  part  of  our  program, 
part  of  my  life,  too.  But  the  fun  is 
always  there.  I  still  wish  this  type- 
writer could  sing — or  at  least  whistle — 
so  I  could  show  you  what  I  mean.  But 
if  you  listen  to  the  Jack  Berch  show — 
or  if  you'll  listen  now,  after  reading 
this — you'll  understand. 


Coast  to  Coast  in  Television 

(Continued  from  page  47) 


Most  people  in  television  are  looking 
for  a  sponsor,  but  the  great  Godfrey 
(Arthur,  that  is)  is  different.  The  red- 
head's troubles  stem  from  too  many 
sponsors!  Two  of  his  radio  sponsors 
want  him  to  do  a  video  show  for  them 
— each  claiming  exclusive  rights — and 
the  result  is  a  deadlock.  The  sponsor 
does  want  to  televise  Talent  Scouts, 
which  would  be  a  natural  for  video. 

*  *         * 

NBC  has  announced  that  their  sales 
policy  will  be  to  create  new  sponsors 
for  television  instead  of  siphoning  off 
radio  money.  Thus  they  will  "protect" 
radio  while  television  is  a  red  ink  op- 
eration. Department  stores  will  be  the 
first  group  of  potential  sponsors  to  be 
wooed  for  video.  They  never  did  use 
radio  to  any  extent,  are  perfect  for  the 
new  plan  of  getting  television  backing 
without  harming  radio. 

»         *         * 

Doctors  have  performed  surgical  op- 
erations for  the  television  cameras,  and 
now  we  hear  that  dentists  have  got  into 
the  act.  On  December  first  the  Min- 
neapolis District  Dental  Society  sched- 
uled two  major  dental  operations  for 
telecasting  over  KSTP-TV.  The  op- 
erations took  place  in  the  Fairview  hos- 
pital and  some  500  dentists  watched 
over  receivers  set  up  in  the  Nicollet 
hotel  ballroom.  New  techniques  can 
be  demonstrated  to  so  many  dentists 
at  once  now.  Without  television  of 
course,  not  more  than  ten  dentists  could 
crowd  aroimd  the  patient's  mouth  to 
witness  the   operation. 

*  *         <t 

On  a  recent  trip  to  Washington,  we 
were  standing  gazing  at  the  White 
House,  quite  pleased  at  having  a  share 
in  its  beauty  (even  if  it's  only  a 
l/140,000,000th  share)  when  what 
should  we  notice  atop  this  symbol  of 
our  democracy  but  the  familiar  tele- 
vision antenna!   Everybody's  doing  it. 

*  *         * 

There  are  now  870,000  television  sets 
in  the  country,  and  the  experts  predict 
there  will  be  2,500,000  sets  in  a  year — 
at  the  end  of  1949.  They  have  even 
looked  ahead  ten  years  and  expect  to 
see  15,000,000  TV  sets  in  operation  then. 
For  that  number  of  sets  the  annual  re- 


pair bills  will  come   to  half  a  billion 
dollars! 

*  *         « 

No  matter  what  you  thought  of  the 
Presidential  election,  it  helped  the  tele- 
vision networks  to  their  first  really 
profitable  operation.  By  selling  their 
election  retiurn  coverage  to  top  spon- 
sors, they  picked  up  $400,000  in  billings 
for  something  that  required  no  writing, 
directing,  talent  or  rehearsals. 

*  *         * 

We  were  at  CBS  to  watch  Mrs. 
Dionne  Lucas  do  her  cooking  show. 
Her  guest  of  the  evening,  Russ  Morgan, 
was  so  natural  and  amusing  that  we 
asked  him  why  he  wasn't  doing  a  show 
on  TV.  He  said  he  wasn't  ready  for  it. 
Someone  must  have  disagreed  with 
him  because  two  weeks  later  he  started 
his  own  program.  Welcome  Aboard,  fea- 
turing his  orchestra  and  guest  stars, 
over  the  NBC  east  coast  TV  network. 

*  *         * 

Although  Der  Bingle  hasn't  done  a 
television  show  for  himself  yet,  he  is 
not  going  to  be  out  of  the  video  picture. 
He  has  filed  for  permission  to  build 
three  television  stations  in  Washington 
State;  one  each  in  Spokane,  Tacoma, 
and  Yakima.  He  estimates  that  the 
first  two  will  cost  $209,337  each  and  the 
third  $173,337. 

*  *  m 

Having  trouble  getting  baby  sitters? 
The  simple  solution  is  to  get  a  television 
set.  You  can  persuade  practically  any- 
one to  keep  your  young  fry  company 
if  you  have  a  set  in  your  living  room. 
The  only  rub  is  when  you  get  your  set 
you  hate  to  go  out! 

*  *  Id 

If  you  can  come  up  with  a  good  for- 
mat for  a  commentator  on  television, 
you've  got  a  gold  mine.  Some  of  the 
top -flight  commentators  are  spending 
plenty  of  money  trying  to  get  shows 
that  will  carry  them  gracefully  into 
video.  They  can't  sit  in  front  of  the 
cameras  and  read  their  copy;  they  don't 
want  to  attempt  to  deliver  it  from 
memory,  either.  Newsreels  will  take 
over  most  of  the  function  of  the  news 
commentator,  but  there  is  still  a  vast 
field  for  which  an  appealing  technique 
is  needed. 


// 


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THOMAS  AHERNE 


fS  Wood  Stro.1 
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The  Truth  About  Truth  or  Consequences 

(Continued  jrom  page  25) 


could,  "in  a  couple  or  three  weeks." 

"Could  you  do  it,"  he  said,  "by  Sun- 
day?" 

Sunday!  It  was  Thursday  then.  Late 
Thursday. 

I  gulped. 

"Sure,"  I  said,  and  hung  up  the  phone. 

It  was  quite  a  weekend. 

I  used  my  family  and  my  friends  and 
the  people  of  New  York  and  we  audi- 
tioned the  show  on  Sunday. 

Thursday  night  I  dispatched  Jack 
Farnell — a  school  chum  I  used  to  sell 
papers  with  back  in  Oakland — to  the 
library  to  look  up  questions.  And 
Barbara  and  her  folks  and  I  began 
dreaming  up  the  Consequences. 

On  Friday,  in  between  announcing 
Against  The  Storm,  The  Gospel  Singer, 
and  Life  Can  Be  Beautiful — it  can, 
too — I  made  arrangements  to  keep  my 
Sunday  morning  Children's  Hour  audi- 
ence in  the  studio  for  an  extra  forty- 
five  minutes  to  provide  listeners — and 
contestants — for  the  audition  show. 

I  CALLED  on  some  of  my  professional 
friends  for  help.  Andre  Baruch,  with 
whom  I  had  shared  an  apartment  in  our 
bachelor  days,  said  he  and  his  wife,  Bea 
Wain,  would  go  on  for  me. 

On  Saturday  night  I  exploited  my 
non-radio  friends.  Barbara  invited  the 
whole  gang  of  my  University  of  Cali- 
fornia pals  for  supper  and  do  you  know 
what  we  did  for  laughs  after  coffee  and 
dessert?  You  guessed  it.  We  played 
Truth  or  Consequences. 

That  was  the  first  of  a  long,  long 
series  of  ulcer-curing  Saturday  nights. 
I  say  that  because  emceeing  the  show 
itself  is  fun  for  me.  No  matter  how 
much  work  and  agony  goes  into  the 
preparations,  Saturday  night  brings  a 
great  release.  The  show  is  one  big 
holiday.    Now  it  is. 

But  I  will  never  forget  that  audition. 

The  audience  was  willing,  but  this 
was  new  stuff.  Nobody  had  played  this 
old  game  in  public  before. 

A  fellow  at  the  piano  played  and  I 
sang  "It  was  at  the  Ivory  (Duz  came 
along  later)  Radio  Party  I  was  Seeing 
Nellie  Home" — ("Merrily"  came  along 
later,  too)  and  we  were  on!  The  first 
contestant  was  a  smiling  round  man 
named  Goldblatt. 

"Let  me  see,"  I  said,  reading  from  the 
little  card  the  usher  passed  up  along 
with  Mr.  Goldblatt,  "Your  name  is  Mr. 
Goldblatt.  Nice  to  see  you,  Mr.  Harry 
Goldblatt." 

"Haw,"  said  Mr.  Goldblatt.  And  no 
more. 

I  explained  about  our  little  game, 
asked  him  his  question. 

"Haw,"  said  Mr.  Goldblatt. 

After  an  awful  moment,  I  took  this 
for  a  miss  and  began  ad  libbing  the 
Consequence. 

"Pretend  you're  a  radio  announcer, 
Mr.  Goldblatt,"  I  told  him.  "And  you're 
about  to  go  on  the  air.  But  you're  in 
trouble,  for  your  partner,  who  has  all 
the  sound  effects,  is  stuck  in  the  ele- 
vator and  can't  get  to  the  studio.  You'll 
just  have  to  make  all  the  sounds  vocally 
yourself,  Mr.  Goldblatt." 

Silence. 

Those  seconds  were  ticking  off,  cold 
and  clammy. 

"Do  you  understand  the  Consequence, 
Mr.  Goldblatt?" 

"Haw." 

I  plunged  on  desperately,  reading 
now  from  the  script. 


"It  is  a  windy  day  in  New  York 
City  ..."  I  paused  for  Mr.  G's  wind 
effect  which  was  not  forthcoming.  "You 
hop  into  your  car  .  .  ."  Silence.  "And 
head  down  Broadway.  You  are  roaring 
along."  Silence.  "You  put  on  your 
brakes,  toot  your  horn." 

"TOOT  YOUR  HORN,  Mr.  Goldblatt," 
and  at  this  I  wheeled  round  in  back  of 
him  jabbed  him  hard  with  a  pencil 
where  it  would  do  the  most  good,  and 
from  Mr.  Goldblatt  came: 

"Yipe."  It  was  the  most  ear-splitting, 
horn  tooting  "Haw"  you  ever  heard, 
and  the  audience  collapsed. 

After  that  it  was  easier. 

Andre  and  Bea  did  the  next  stunt. 
They  were  terrific  but  we  found  out 
later  that  celebrities  shouldn't  be  con- 
testants on  our  show.  As  much  as  the 
audience  loved  seeing  the  happily  mar- 
ried Baruchs  getting  breakfast  to  the 
tune  of  the  clown  song  from  "Pagliacci," 
some  of  them  thought  the  whole  thing 
was  thought  up  and  perfected  in  ad- 
vance, rehearsed  and  made  ready.  It 
wasn't  fair  to  Bea  and  Andre — who 
went  on  just  as  cold  as  Mr.  Goldblatt. 
So,  since  then,  celebrities  have  appeared 
from  time  to  time  on  our  show — not  as 
contestants  but  as  important  props.  And 
maybe  someday  the  last  cynic  will  be- 
lieve the  absolute  truth  which  is  that 
there  are  no  planted  contestants  on 
Truth  Or  Consequences! 

But  no  time  for  choler.  Back  to  the 
audition.  The  Baruchs  went  off,  having 
paid  their  consequence.  A  shy  fellow 
in  glasses  told  the  audience  five  nice 
things  about  himself,  and  a  nice  old 
lady  in  a  flowered  hat  played  "Hold 
That  Tiger"  on  the  trap  drums.  We 
were  off.    And  we  were  in. 

THE  agency  heard  the  record  the  next 
day  and  hurried  it  off  to  Cincinnati. 
The  men  who  made  soap  loved  it  too, 
and  four  weeks  later  Truth  or  Conse- 
quences was  on  the  air. 

It  was  a  simple  operation  at  first. 

I — with  the  help  of  my  family,  my 
friends  and  the  people  of  New  York — 
thought  up  all  of  the  Consequences  at 
first.  With  me  on  stage,  and  Herb  Moss 
being  an  athlete  and  a  director  and 
Farnell  and  the  sound  man  doubling  as 
props — we  got  along  fine. 

I  was  taking  it  easy.  After  all,  I  had 
given  up  a  thousand  dollars  a  week  in 
announcing  jobs  to  go  into  this  venture 
— and  it  could  flop.  Too  recent  mem- 
ories of  my  lean  days  in  New  York  when 
I  was  hanging  around  theatrical  cast- 
ing offices  and  eating  in  nickel  cafe- 
terias made  the  idea  of  starting  over — 
in  case  of  disaster — something  to  have 
nightmares  about. 

Now,  nine  years  and  four  "Hush"  con- 
tests later,  we  struggle  along  with  a 
stage  rrtanager,  production  manager,  di- 
rector, five  idea  men  (besides  me)  four 
secretaries,  press  representatives,  law- 
yers, mail  and  accounting  departments, 
transportation  experts  and,  as  I  write, 
four  promotion  men  out  on  the  road 
with  as  many  harried  contestants  chas- 
ing beetles!  I  suppose  the  set-up  is  as 
populous  as  the  whole  town  of  Merino, 
Colorado,  where  the  whole  thing  started 
— and  everybody  has  plenty  to  do. 

Phil  Davis,  my  chief  idea  man,  and 
Al  Paschall,  our  production  manager, 
have  been  around  longest.  Herb  Moss 
voted  to  stay  in  New  York  when  we 
moved  the  show  to  the  West  Coast,  and 
Ed  Bailey  is  our  director  now. 


Al  joined  up  in  the  show's  fourth 
week  when  I  began  dreaming  up  really- 
elaborate  nonsense. 

I  remember  the  horror  on  our  agency 
representative's  face  when  I  suggested 
at  one  of  our  early  idea  meetings  that 
it  might  be  fun  to  ask  a  contestant  to 
throw  a  custard  pie  at  somebody. 

"Next,"  he  said  sternly,  "you'll  be 
wanting  a  seal  on  stage." 

The  next  week  we  had  a  seal.  Al 
Paschall  managed  that. 

The  people  liked  it,  but  the  agency 
boys  were  still  skeptical. 

"I  suppose,"  they  sighed,  "that  next 
you'll  want  somebody  to  wash  an  ele- 
phant." 

So,  the  next  week,  somebody  washed 
an  elephant. 

By  the  time  I  got  around  to  suggestmg 
the  pie-throwing  routine  again  it 
seemed  mild  stuff,  and  they  all  won- 
dered why  I  hadn't  thought  of  it  before. 

Now,  nothing  that  our  brain  trust — 
Phil  Davis,  who  has  been  with  the  show 
for  eight  seasons,  Mort  Lewis,  my 
brother   Paul,    Bill   Burch,    Mel   Vick- 

land  and  I  can  think  up is  too  much 

for  Al  and  nothing  Al  or  his  assistant, 
Fred  Carney,  can  pull  is  too  much  for 
our  sponsors. 

One  week  recently,  for  instance,  one 
of  the  boys  thought  if  might  be  funny 
if  a  contestant,  asked  to  sing  "Donkey 
Serenade"  for  the  people,  could  be  ac- 
companied by  a  surprise  chorus  of 
twenty  voices — donkey  voices. 

Al  got  the  twenty  donkeys,  and 
everybody  had  a  big  laugh.  Except 
perhaps,  the  NBC   custodians. 

But  the  show,  as  you  know,  isn't  all 
laughs.  We  have  drama,  and  excite- 
ment, and  pathos,  too — we  have  every- 
thing, as  a  matter  of  fact,  that  is  a  part 
of  life. 

Sometimes,  when  we  go  out  for  a 
heartthrob  instead  of  a  laugh  it's  like 
playing  the  part  of  a  master-magician. 

Like  the  time,  for  our  Mother's  Day 
show,  when  we  brought  Mrs.  Margaret 
McGinn  all  the  way  from  Ireland  to 
surprise  her  son  Thomas  whom  she'd 
not  seen  in  twenty  years.  Thomas 
lived  in  Los  Angeles  and  worked  hard 
at  a  job;  it  was  not  likely  that  he  could 
get  back  to  Erin  to  see  his  mother.  Mrs. 
McGinn  had  little  time  or  money  for 
travel  herself;  she  had  fifteen  other 
children,  all  living. 

We  found  her  through  Radio  Erin, 
rushed'  her  across  the  ocean  by  plane 
and  then  across  the  country  so  fast  she 
didn't  even  have  time  to  explain  until 
she  got  off  the  stratoliner  in  Los  An- 
geles   that    her    luggage    was    back    in 


Spiddal,  County  Galway.  She  had 
thought,  when  the  car  came  for  her, 
that  she  was  merely  going  down  to  the 
government  offices  to  see  about  a  pass- 
port. Wiser  by  the  time  the  limousine 
reached  downtown  Dublin  she  leaned 
out  of  the  car  when  it  passed  the  shop 
where  her  husband  worked,  called 
"Goodbye  Joe,  I'm  off  to  America." 

Thomas,  whose  presence  at  the 
broadcast  we  had  assured  by  conspiring, 
in  deep  secrecy  with  his  neighbors,  had 
a  heart-warming  reunion  with  his 
mother  on  the  Truth  or  Consequences 
stage,  and  Mrs.  McGinn  had  two  won- 
derful weeks  in  all  the  glamorous  cor- 
ners of  Southern  California.  To  say 
nothing  of  a  whole  new  wardrobe  to 
make  up  for  the  forgotten  luggage. 

Those  are  the  miracles  it  is  fun  to 
make. 

They  tell  me  our  contests  are  mir- 
acles, too.  They  started  out,  you  know, 
as  a  gag.  This  was  late  in  1945.  I  had 
got  so  fed  up  with  radio  programs  which 
asked  a  contestant  some  first  grade 
question  like  what  is  the  capital  of  the 
United  States  and  rewarded  a  correct 
answer  with  a  gift  of  a  Cadillac,  that 
I  decided  to  run  a  give-away  to  end  all 
give-aways. 

I  worked  out  a  jingle  full  of  clues: 

"Hickory  Dickory  Dock, 

The  hands  went  round  the  clock 

The  clock  struck  ten 

Lights  out 

Goodnight." 

For  eight  weeks,  a  mystery  voice  read 
this  limerick  on  our  program — listeners 
were  asked  to  identify  the  voice. 

We  had  meant  to  knife  the  big-gift 
contests — I  felt  then,  and  I  still  do,  that 
a  radio  show  which  cannot  hold  an 
audience  on  the  basis  of  its  entertain- 
ment value  should  not  be  on  the  air. 
But  what  happened  was  not  a  murder, 
but  a  birth. 

The  first  Mr.  Hush  contest  grew  so 
important  in  the  five  weeks  that  the 
mystery  voice  went  unrecognized — we 
were  committed,  after  all,  to  throwing 
more  big  gifts  into  the  "crackpot  jack- 
pot" each  week  which  went  by  without 
a  winner — that  by  the  time  Richard 
Bartholomew  correctly  identified  Mr. 
Hush  as  Jack  Dempsey  he  received 
prizes  valued  at  over  thirteen  thousand 
dollars. 

And  Truth  or  Consequences  had  an 
army  of  new  listeners  crazy  for  more 
guessing  games. 

I  couldn't  let  them  down.  Nor  could 
I,  in  good  conscience,  go  along  with  a 
technique  which  turned  radio  into  an 
oversized  grab  bag. 


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ernment legal  experts,  and  ultimately 
— for  I  had  found  a  "right  reason"  for 
the  contests — with  officials  of  the  March 
of  Dimes. 

The  Mrs.  Hush  contest  brought  in 
$545,000  in  voluntary  contributions  to 
the  Infantile  Paralysis  Foundation, 
making  Mrs.  William  H.  McCormick's 
$17,590  in  prizes  insignificant.  The  next 
search  for  Miss  Hush — or  Martha  Gra- 
ham— amassed  $672,000  more  to  fight 
infantile  paralysis,  and  "The  Walking 
Man"  contest — with  Jack  Benny  as 
our  mystery  man  we  could  not  re- 
veal a  voice,  settled  for  footsteps- 
gave  the  American  Heart  Association 
$1,612,587.96. 

I  have  no  right  to  discard  an  idea 
which  can  do  this — especially  when  it 
gives  half  the  people  of  the  country  a 
wonderful  time  besides.  Storm  signals 
are  up  now;  the  F.C.C.,  it  is  said,  con- 
templates a  new  ruling  against  give- 
aways. Okay,  Truth  or  Consequences 
got  along  without  prizes  before  and  it 
can  again.  But  I  wish  if  the  F.C.C. 
wants  to  pass  a  ruling  it  would  rule 
against  stealing  another  guy's  ideas. 
What  goes  on  in  radio  in  this  respect — 
well,  it  just  shouldn't. 

Radio  creators  have  no  copyright  pro- 
tection— but  it  shouldn't  be  necessary. 
There  is  such  a  thing  as  creed  of  show- 
manship. There  was  no  copyright  law 
in  vaudeville,  either,  but  a  vaudevillian 
would  starve  before  he  would  steal  an- 
other actor's  stuff. 

I  used  to  get  angry  when  yet  another 
fellow  would  pop  up  with  yet  another 
carbon  copy  of  Truth  or  Consequences. 
Now  I  just  get  to  work.  There  is  a 
real  challenge  in  competing  with  your 
imitators — and  staying  on  top. 

Now  its  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hush — and 
everybody,  including  you,  I  hope — is 
guessing,  or  by  this  time  have  found 
the  answer.  Either  way,  I  hope  you're 
still  sending  your  contributions  to  the 
Mental  Health  Drive. 

Merrily  we  roll.     Merrily,  I  said. 

Truth  Or  Consequences  is  starting  its 
ninth  year,  and  feeling  no  pain. 

My  new  radio  show.  This  Is  Your  Life, 
is  starting  its  first  year — it's  on  ap- 
proval with  the  people. 

This  Is  Your  Life  was  born  of  an  idea 
similar  to  the  one  which  we  introduced 
on  Truth  or  Consequences  two  years 
ago  when  a  hospitalized  veteran  was 
confronted  with  the  key  people  who 
made  up  his  life  that  was  past.     And 


then  we  presented  him  with  his  future 
— the  jewelry  store  he  wanted.  Then 
we  tried  it  in  another  form  last  Christ- 
mas time.  Perhaps  you  remember  it — 
our  radio  "trip  back  home"  for  the 
paraplegic  veteran  in  the  Long  Beach 
Naval  Hospital. 

We  used  the  most  complicated  tech- 
nical set-up  in  our  program's  history — 
a  three-way  remote — to  let  this 
wounded  boy  visit  the  scenes  of  his 
childhood,  his  old  school  where  his  old 
teachers  said  hello,  the  drug  store 
where  he  used  to  drop  by  for  a  soda, 
his  church,  his  grandmother's  house.  He 
talked  with  his  old  doctor,  his  pastor, 
the  clerk  at  the  general  store;  and  his 
classmates  at  Greenville,  Tennessee 
High  School  sang  Christmas  carols  just 
for  him.  And  for  a  final,  wonderful 
surprise  we  had  brought  his  mother  and 
father  and  his  best  girl  from  Green- 
ville to  Long  Beach  to  spend  Christmas 
with  him. 

This  boy's  story  touched  the  hearts 
of  America,  as  it  had  touched  ours — 
and  our  country  is  rich  in  these  stories. 
Our  country,  I  have  come  to  believe  in 
these  ten  years  of  getting  to  know  it, 
is  richest  of  all  in  its  people. 

I  have  talked  about  Truth  or  Con- 
sequences so  much  that  you  could  be- 
lieve that  I  have  no  other  life — it  isn't 
true. 

Barbara  and  I,  after  nine  years  to- 
gether, have  as  much  fun  as  we  did 
when  she  was  a  student  at  Sarah  Law- 
rence— she  was  a  child  psychology 
major  and  I  was  her  first  patient — and 
I  was  announcing  the  daytime  serials. 
We  have  more  fun — for  now  there  are 
our  three  children,  Christine,  Gary  and 
Lauren,  and  nothing  ever  happened  on 
Truth  Or  Consequences  which  couldn't 
— and  hasn't — happened  at  home. 

I  know  I  wasn't  as  nervous  when  I 
did  my  first  stint  on  the  air  back  in 
Oakland  in  1930  as  I  was  when  I  took 
Gary  to  kindergarten  on  the  first  day 
of  school  last  month. 

I  changed  suits  twice,  and  ties  three 
times.  Everything  seemed  too  flashy 
for  this  sort  of  responsible  job.  What 
would  Gary's  friends  say? 

And  besides  I  was  scared.  When  we 
had  taken  him  to  Sunday  School  the 
first  time,  he  balked  on  the  front  steps 
and  it  took  five  weeks  to  get  him  inside. 
What  if  he  did  this  at  school! 

Gary  made  it  this  time,  and  I  guess  I 
did,  too,  although  I  must  admit  I  was 
awfully  warm  in  that  New  York 
banker's  suit  for  the  rest  of  the  day. 

At  home  with  the  little  kids,  on  stage 
with  the  big  ones — everywhere  I  go,  it 
seems,  I  have  a  wonderful  time. 


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Monday-Friday  4  p.m.  EST  ABC  Stations 

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"Just  the  Two  of  Us" 

{Continued  from  page  37) 


I  sing  low,  torch  type  numbers.  But  one 
night  a  couple  of  years  ago  at  the  Pal- 
ladium where  I  was  singing  with  Hal 
Mclntyre's  orchestra,  I  was  approached 
by  a  pleasant  looking  man  who  said  his 
name  was  Beau  Lee. 

The  name  didn't  mean  a  thing  to  me. 
That  is  until  Mr.  Lee  added  that  he  was 
Spike  Jones'  manager. 

"AH,"  I  said,  and  this  time  a  bell  rang. 
"  A  cowbell  probably.  Spike  Jones 
was  almost  a  legend  to  me.  Our  home, 
where  I  lived  with  my  parents  and  five 
brothers  and  five  sisters,  was  stacked 
high  with  Spike's  records.  Mother  was 
such  an  ardent  fan  that  whenever  she 
heard  him  she'd  turn  the  radio  up  so 
loud  it  drowned  out  the  entire  neigh- 
borhood. And  then  she  would  make 
everybody  keep  quiet  so  she  could  lis- 
ten. Imagine  having  to  be  quiet  to  listen 
to  a  Spike  Jones  arrangement.  Shot- 
guns, camelbells,  auto  horns,  .frying 
pans  and  heaven  knows  what  else. 
What  a  racket!  But  she  loved  it.  And 
so  did  I.  In  fact,  whenever  I  got  a  case 
of  the  blues,  I'd  start  playing  "Chloe"  or 
"Cocktails  for  Two"  or  any  one  of  his 
records,  and  it  wouldn't  be  long  before 
the  blues  would  vanish  ...  in  self  de- 
fense I  guess.  Anyway,  I  felt  as  though 
I  had  always  known  Spike  even  though 
I  never  met  him. 

And  now  here  before  me  was  a  real 
live  emissary  from  Spike  himself.  "How 
would  you  like  to  come  to  Catalina 
and  do  a  benefit  with  the  band  next 
week?"  Mr.  Lee  was  asking  me. 

How  would  I  like  to!  I  was  so  darned 
excited  I  could  hardly  sing  for  the  rest 
of  the  night. 

"But  how  can  you  sing  against  all 
that  racket?"  my  mother  asked  won- 
deringly.  "You  know  I  love  his  music, 
but  I  still  don't  see  how  anyone  can 
really  sing  to  it." 

"I  don't  know  either.  Mom,"  I  said, 
"but  I'm  sure  willing  to  find  out." 

So  I  went  to  Catalina.  And  got  the 
surprise  of  my  life. 

Don't  let  anyone  kid  ybu  into  think- 
ing that  all  you  have  to  do  to  be  a  City 
Slicker  is  to  bang  a  frying  pan  around. 
No,  sir.  Every  single  one  of  the  Slick- 
ers is  really  a  fine,  serious  musician. 
Spike  has  since  explained  to  me  that  in 
order  for  a  musician  to  burlesque  any- 
thing successfully,  he  has  first  to  be  an 
excellent  technician.  Like  Benny  Good- 
man, he  believes  that  if  you  can't  play 
Bach,  you  can't  satirize  anything  mu- 
sically. 

I  began  to  find  that  out  for  myself 
as  I  listened  to  them  rehearse.  And  I 
found  out  something  else.  Not  only 
were  the  Slickers  fine  musicians,  but 
they  were  swell  human  beings.  I  was 
a  little  nervous  at  the  beginning,  but 
when  they  began  to  rehearse  one  of 
those  crazy  numbers  ...  I  can't  re- 
member now  whether  it  was  "Benze- 
drine Beguine"  or  "You  Always  Hurt 
the  One  You  Love"  .  .  .  with  special 
licks  for  me,  I  was  laughing  too  hard  to 
be  scared. 

When  the  time  came  for  my  number, 
though,  they  played  like  any  other  or- 
chestra. Spike  doesn't  burlesque  every- 
thing in  the  show.  It's  not  good  show- 
manship. 

All  the  time  before  the  show  Spike 
was  so  busy  with  arrangements  I  don't 
even  think  he  knew  I  was  there.  But 
when  I  started  to  sing  .  .  .  with  my  knees 
a  little  shaky  ...  I  caught  him  looking 


at   me.     He   grinned   over   at   me   and 
winked. 

"You're  okay,"  he  whispered  later  as 
I  stood  by  the  mike  taking  my  bows. 
I  smiled  back  at  him,  feeling  a  sudden 
warmth  for  this  twinkling-eyed  fellow 
who  stood  beside  me  holding  my  hand. 

I  was  to  learn  later  how  many  other 
people  felt  the  same  way  about  him. 
Spike  is  one  of  the  sweetest  guys  in 
the  show  business.  There  isn't  a  prob- 
lem too  big  or  too  small  that  he  hasn't 
got  a  sympathetic  ear  for.  Mr.  An- 
thony has  nothing  on  him.  Anyone  who 
has  ever  worked  around  Spike  is  crazy 
about  him.  Including  me.  But  oddly 
enough.  Spike  never  seemed  to  talk 
much  about  his  own  troubles.  I  noticed 
this  when  I  came  to  work  as  a  perma- 
nent member  of  the  band. 

This  didn't  happen,  however,  until  six 
months  after  the  Catalina  date.  Six 
dreary  months  when  I  almost  wanted 
to  give  up  show  business.  But  I  didn't. 
Show  people  always  feel  that  way  when 
things  get  rough,  but  they  never  really 
mean  it. 

Unlike  most  show  people,  though,  I 
had  always  placed  the  idea  of  a  home 
and  family  first.  Sure  I  wanted  my  ca- 
reer. It  was  fun  to  sing  and  I  loved  it, 
but  even  more  important  to  me  was  my 
dream  of  marrying  some  wonderful  man 
and  becoming   a   wife   and  mother. 

I  was  hoping,  of  course,  that  I  would 
be  able  to  combine  this  with  singing 
professionally,  but  I  had  struggled 
through  to  the  decision  that  if  my  hus- 
band-to-be seriously  objected  to  my  ca- 
reer, I  would  give  it  up.  It  would  be 
like  tossing  away  a  big  hunk  of  my  life, 
but  I  would  do  it.  Since,  however,  there 
wasn't  any  husband  on  the  horizon,  it 
wasn't  much  of  a  problem.  Oh,  I  had 
lots  of  boy-friends,  but  having  a  lot  of 
boy-friends  isn't  at  all  the  same  as  hav- 
ing one  .  .  .  the  one.  There  never  had 
been  that  for  me,  but  I  knew  there 
would  be  someday.  There  just  had  to 
be. 

In  the  meantime  I  had  my  music  .  .  . 
and  my  family.  Mother  and  Dad  have 
always  been  my  best  friends. 

THEY  wanted  me  to  be  a  singer.  Most 
parents  object  to  such  a  career.  But 
not  mine.  Ever  since  I've  been  old 
enough  to  stand  up  and  turn  a  phono- 
graph crank,  I've  known  I  wanted  to  be 
a  singer.  Both  Mother  and  Dad  love 
music,  and  since  I  was  apparently  the 
only  one  musically  inclined,  they  were 
delighted  with  the  idea. 

When  I  was  only  eight  .  .  .  we  were 
living  in  Tacoma,  Washington,  then  .  .  . 
I  became  an  ardent  fan  of  Helen  Kane's. 
You  remember  Helen  Kane,  the 
"boopty-boop"  girl  with  the  baby  voice. 
Well,  I  used  to  get  her  records,  listen 
to  them  and  try  to  imitate  her. 

At  first  I  did  this  in  my  room,  quite 
secretly,  I  thought,  and  then  I  discov- 
ered my  father  and  mother  had  been 
watching  me.  One  day  after  I  had  fin- 
ished an  imitation  I  heard  some  ap- 
plause offstage  in  the  dining  room.  I 
was  a  little  embarrassed,  but  my  father 
swooped  me  up  into  his  arms.  "Well, 
well,"  he  said,  "what  do  you  think. 
Mother,  we  have  a  singer  in  the  fam- 
ily!" 

He  used  to  take  me  to  his  club  so  that 
I  could  entertain  his  friends.  I  guess  you 
might  call  these  my  first  professional 
appearances.  And  it  was  through  this 
that  I  got  my  first  real  singing  job  on  a 
radio  station  in  Seattle. 


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Not  long  after,  we  moved  to  Los  An- 
geles and  I  got  a  spot  on  KHJ's  Happy 
Go  Lucky  show.  And  when  I  was  thir- 
teen I  got  what  I  thought  was  the  most 
wonderful  break  a  girl  could  ever  get. 
I  got  a  motion  picture  contract!  At  Uni- 
versal Studios.  Oh,  I  was  in  seventh 
heaven.  There  were  all  kinds  of  talk 
about  making  me  another  Deanna  Dur- 
bin,  and  there  were  story  conferences 
and  meetings  with  producers  and  direc- 
tors. It  was  terribly  exciting.  And 
then  came  the  let-down.  One  of  those 
"out  with  the  old,  in  with  the  new"  re- 
gimes overtook  the  studio,  and  I  was 
outside  the  gates  before  I  even  had  a 
chance  to  look  a  camera  in  the  eye. 

So  I  went  back  to  radio.  I  got  a  job 
singing  on  The  Squirrel  Cage  Show  at 
KFWB,  and  another  singing  spot  on  a 
night  show.  This  was  followed  by  sev- 
eral stints  with  some  well  known  bands, 
singing  at  clubs  and  special  dances. 

IT  WAS  good  to  be  working,  but  some- 
thing was  missing.  I  was  lonesome.  It 
got  to  the  point  where  dates,  books  and 
even  good  jobs  weren't  enough  to  wipe 
out  that  strange  desolation  I  was  ex- 
periencing. I  needed  something  else. 
Or  rather  someone  else.  I  needed  some- 
one to  be  close  to.  Someone  to  be  in 
love  with.  It  was  indeed  a  dreary  six 
months. 

Then  came  that  wonderful  day  when 
I  got  word  that  Spike  wanted  me  to 
come  and  work  for  him.  Not  for  just 
one  performance.     But  for  good! 

I  spent  hours  fixing  my  hair,  brushing 
it  till  it  shone  golden.  I  put  on  my  lip- 
stick a  dozen  times  before  it  satisfied 
me.  And  as  a  final  touch,  I  broke  open 
a  bottle  of  my  best  perfume  and  then 
satisfied  with  my  appearance  at  last,  I 
sallied  forth  to  meet  my  new  boss. 

To  be  perfectly  truthful  I  wasn't  en- 
tirely preoccupied  with  business  at  the 
interview.  I  kept  watching  Spike's  face 
.  .  .  the  way  it  lit  up  when  he  talked 
about  his  new  show,  the  way  his  eye- 
brows slid  off  at  the  corners,  giving  him 
that  funny,  quizzical  look  that  I  love  so 
...  so  that  I  didn't  hear  everything  he 
said.  Which  was  quite  a  lot.  Except 
that  it  was  terribly  business-like. 

"Would  you  mind  moving  over  under 
the  light,  Miss  Greco,  so  I  can  check 
something,  please." 

I  smiled  my  most  alluring  smile,  but 
there  was  no  answering  smile. 

"That's  good,"  he  said  scrutinizing  me 
with  all  the  intimacy  of  a  CPA  going 
over  his  notes.  "You'll  show  up  well 
under  lights.    Makes  your  eyes  glow." 

Maybe  he  could  see  that  they  could 
glow,  but  I'll  bet  anything  he  didn't 
know  what  color  they  were.  He  had 
me  turning  and  walking,  hitting  high 
notes  and  low  notes,  breathing  and 
bowing  and  I  don't  know  what  all.  He 
scribbled  little  notes  in  his  book  as  he 
talked  to  me.  Then  he  stood  up,  shook 
hands  with  me,  said  he  hoped  we'd  en- 
joy working  together  and  out  the  door 
he  went. 

That  was  the  beginning  of  my  big 
romance! 

It  certainly  didn't  start  out  with  much 
promise.  In  fact  the  relationship  was 
on  such  a  professional  level  that  I  was 
nearly  convulsed  with  laughter  when 
my  mother  insisted  on  sending  my  sis- 
ter along  as  chaperone  on  our  first  tour. 

"That's  silly,  Mom,"  I  said  when  I 
could  stop  laughing.  "He  doesn't  even 
know  I'm  alive." 

"Never  mind,"  said  my  mother  stub- 
bornly, "he  will." 

Well,  you  certainly  couldn't  have 
proved  it  by  me.  He  was  my  boss.  Noth- 
ing else.  A  charming  one  to  be  sure. 
And   helpful   and  friendly.     But   there 


was  a  wall  of  business  between  us  a 
mile  high.  I  decided  I'd  better  forget 
what  romantic  fantasies  I'd  ever  had 
about  him.  He  was  interested  in  me 
solely  as  an  investment.  And  for  that 
reason  he  spent  quite  a  lot  of  time  giv- 
ing me  lessons.  I  have  had  teachers 
before,  but  believe  me  Spike  is  the 
best  teacher  I  ever  had.  He  has  such 
patience.  But  above  all  he  knows  what 
he's  talking  about.  His  criticism  is 
both  constructive  and  imaginative.  As 
I  worked  with  him  I  realized  more  and 
more  what  a  fine  muscian  he  really  is. 
There  is  no  more  similarity  between  him 
and  the  zany  character  he  plays  as  band 
leader  of  the  Slickers  than  between  Ber- 
gen and  Charlie  McCarthy.  He's  just 
a  quiet,  hard  working  guy  who  loves 
what  he  does,  thinks  a  lot,  reads  a  lot, 
and  whose  only  relaxation  is  an  occa- 
sional golf  game;  or  a  few  hours  with 
his  camera. 

I  saw  a  lot  of  Spike,  but  it  was 
strictly  business.  Whenever  we  ate 
dinner  together  it  was  with  half  a 
dozen  other  people  .  .  .  publicity  men, 
song  writers,  theater  managers  and 
other -behind-the-scenes  people.  Or  if 
we  had  coffee,  it  was  with  the  band.  We 
were  seldom  alone. 

And  then  one  night  after  a  rehearsal 
in  Chicago  we  found  ourselves  the  last 
two  people  on  stage.  Everyone  else 
had  gone,  and  I  started  to  pick  up  my 
things  and  leave  as  usual.  I  had  my 
coat  half  on  and  was  heading  for  the 
exit  when  Spike  stopped  me.  "Wait  a 
minute,  Helen,"  he  said,  "how  about 
having  dinner  with  me?" 

"Of  course,"  I  answered  automati- 
cally, thinking  it  would  be  the  usual 
way  with  half  the  band  along. 

"No,"  he  said  sensing  my  interpre- 
tation. "I  mean  you  and  me.  Just  the 
two  of  us." 

I  think  you  could  have  knocked  me 
over  with  a  pizzicata  I  was  so  surprised. 
I  just  stared  at  him. 

"What's  the  matter,"  he  said  banter- 
ingly,  "don't  you  approve  of  going  out 
with  the  hired  help?" 

"CJURE,"  I  said,  "but  isn't  it  all  so 
13  sudden?"  Whereupon  he  began  to 
laugh,  and  tell  me  about  the  wonderful 
place  he  was  going  to  take  me  to.  The 
Pump  Room. 

"Ever  hear  of  it?"  he  asked. 

I  nodded.  It  was  the  most  famous 
place  in  Chicago. 

"Good,"  he  said.  "Run  along  and 
change  and  I'll  pick  you  up  in  an  hour." 

I  rushed  home  like  a  school-girl  going 
out  on  her  first  date.  I  felt  exhilarated 
and  not  a  little  afraid.  I  guess  a  lot  of 
girls  feel  that  way  when  they  first  go 
out  with  the  boss,  especially  such  an  at- 
tractive one.  And  then  Spike  wasn't 
just  a  boss. 

I  had  gotten  dressed  so  quickly  that 
the  time  lag  between  the  final  touch  of 
lipstick  and  the  hour  when  he  said  he'd 
be  over  seemed  eternal.  Then  I  began 
to  think  maybe  he  wouldn't  come. 
Maybe  he'd  forget  about  our  date.  Or 
maybe  some  important  business  had 
come  up.  But  I  needn't  have  worried. 
In  exactly  an  hour  the  doorbell  rang, 
and  there  was  Spike  with  a  single  rose 
in  his  hand. 

All  I  could  think  to  say  was  "Oh, 
Spike."  He  looked  so  handsome  in  his 
dark  blue  suit — he  dresses  very  con- 
servatively and  with  impeccable  taste — 
that  I  could  hardly  stop  looking  at  him. 

But  it  wasn't  long  before  he  had  put 
me  entirely  at  ease.  We  had  a  wonder- 
ful time  that  night.  It  was  the  first  time 
I  had  ever  talked  to  Spike  as  Spike. 
After  my  first  uneasiness  wore  off,  I  was 
confiding    in    him    like    an    old    friend. 


Pretty  soon  both  of  us  were  carrying  on 
like  a  couple  of  old  cronies. 

He  told  me  a  lot  about  himself.  How 
he  had  wanted  to  be  a  musician  ever 
since  he  was  a  little  boy.  Spike  started 
out  as  a  drummer  you  know,  and  he 
first  learned  to  play  on  a  bread  board  in 
Calexico  in  Imperial  Valley,  where  his 
father  was  a  station  agent  for  Southern 
Pacific.  Train  sounds  were  very  excit- 
ing to  Spike.  In  fact  the  clicking  rails 
.  .  .  the  railroad  spikes  .  .  .  which  first 
suggested  drums  to  him,  also  suggested 
his  nickname. 

Then  one  Christmas  his  mother  and 
father  gave  him  a  set  of  drums.  Like 
many  parents  they  wanted  their  son  to 
play  classical  music,  and  stipulated  that 
jazz  was  out.  But  Spike  overcame  the 
protests  of  his  parents  when  the  long- 
ing to  join  a  local  dance  orchestra  won 
over  the  symphonic  allure  of  Beethoven 
and  Brahms. 

Afterwards,  when  the  family  moved 
to  Long  Beach,  he  joined  the  orchestra 
led  by  Dwight  Defty,  and  before  long 
he  became  drum  major  of  a  90  piece 
band. 

THE  incredible  energy  which  char- 
acterizes Spike  today  was  evident 
even  in  his  salad  days,  because  in  addi- 
tion to  these  musical  duties  he  organ- 
ized a  high-school  dance  orchestra. 
"Spike  Jones  and  His  Five  Tacks"  he 
dubbed  it  and  this  was  Spike's  first  ven- 
ture on  the  podium. 

Later,  as  an  established  and  profes- 
sional drummer,  he  worked  with  some 
of  the  top  entertainers  of  the  day. 
Dave  Rubinoff,  Fibber  McGee  and 
Molly,  Eddie  Cantor,  Bing  Crosby  to 
name  just  a  few.  But  Spike  was  a  rest- 
less soul.  He  became  bored  with  play- 
ing straight  music.  To  offset  this  he  got 
somie  of  his  pals  together  and  just  for 
fun  they  began  to  burlesque  the  song 
hits.  It  was  just  a  hobby  and  they 
gave  themselves  a  name  .  .  .  "The  Cali- 
pat  Melody  Boys,"  which  turned  out  to 
be  the  loudest  four  piece  orchestra  in 
Imperial  Valley. 

It  was  all  in  fun,  until  one  day  Harry 
Meyerson,  West  Coast  Recording  Di- 
rector for  RCA  Victor  heard  them,  and 
sent  some  of  the  records  east. 

A  contract  came  by  return  mail! 

The  boys  made  a  few  more  records 
among  which  was  the  now  famous  "Der 
Fuehrer's  Face."  It  was  this  record  that 
started  Spike  up  into  big-time. 

Overnight,  almost,  the  record  became 
a  national  hit.  Spike  was  more  sur- 
prised than  anybody,  especially  when, 
48  hours  later,  he  found  himself  sign- 
ing a  movie  contract.  He  says  for  days 
afterwards  he  was  walking  four  feet  off 
the  ground,  using  a  large  pink  cloud  as 
ballast. 

Since  then  you  all  know  the  story. 
Spike  made  a  hit,  and  he's  still  a  hit. 
But  it  wasn't  easy.  He  had  to  con- 
vince a  lot  of  skeptical  people.  At  first 
a  lot  of  people  sniffed  at  this  novelty- 
type  orchestra  and  predicted  an  early 
demise.  They  had  a  point,  for  novelty 
stuff  seldom  lasts  long  in  show  business. 
But  what  they  didn't  reckon  with  was 
Spike.  And  Spike's  determination  not 
to  have  just  another  "novelty-type"  or- 
chestra. Spike's  arrangements  take  as 
much  preparation  as  a  Bach  Music 
Festival.  It  isn't  "stuff"  with  him.  He 
respects  it.  He  feels  .  .  .  and  so  do  his 
millions  of  fans  .  .  .  that  he  has  made  a 
real  contribution  to  American  Music. 

It  is  this  respect,  for  instance,  which 
makes  him  go  out  and  hire  real  Ha- 
waiian musicians  and  do  hours  of  re- 
search in  order  to  make  a  piece  like 
"Hawaiian  War  Chant."  Or  like  in 
"Cocktails   for  Two,"   where  he   hired 


some  of  the  finest  musicians  available  in 
order  to  make  the  satire  more  effective. 
Not  that  the  Slickers  couldn't  do  it,  but 
he  needed  a  special  quality  added  to  his 
regular  band. 

This  kind  of  precision  takes  plan- 
ning. It  takes  almost  eighteen  hours 
out  of  Spike's  day.  His  energy  is  amaz- 
ing. "It's  my  perfectionist  drive,"  he 
explains  to  me.  "I  don't  like  half  meas- 
ures. And  I  don't  want  something  that's 
just  good  ...  I  want  something  that's 
perfect." 

It  was  this  driving  ambition,  this  re- 
lentless pursuit  of  perfection  that  filled 
Spike's  life  when  I  first  met  him.  No 
time  for  any  personal  attachments.  In 
spite  of  all  the  busy  hours,  though,  it 
was  kind  of  lonely.  I  realized  that  as 
he  talked  to  me,  and  was  very  impressed 
with  the  fact  that  he  had  chosen  me  to 
spend  some  of  his  few  precious  hours 
of  relaxation  with. 

Looking  back  on  it,  it  wasn't  the 
usual,  "all  of  a  sudden"  type  romance  at 
all.  It  was  a  slow-growing  thing.  And 
it  was  better,  because  it  grew  out  of  a 
friendship.  Oh,  I  had  dates,  but  some- 
how I  always  saved  up  the  important 
things  to  tell  Spike.  I  don't  know  .  .  . 
it  was  just  that  there  was  something 
added  ...  an  edge,  a  flavor  ...  to 
things  when  he  was  around.  I  don't 
really  remember  what  day,  what  hour 
I  discovered  I  was  in  love  with  Spike. 
He  doesn't  remember  when  it  happened 
to  him,  either.  It  was  just  there,  that's 
all. 

Then  other  people  began  taking  us 
for  granted.  And  the  first  thing  we  knew 
we  were  a  team.  "Spike  and  Helen." 
It  sounded  nice.  That  was  all.  Just  nice. 
But  when  I  found  myself  doodling  his 
name  on  the  corners  of  napkins  and 
telephone  pads,  I  began  to  suspect  that 
my  friendly  feelings  had  gotten  a  little 
out  of  hand. 

When  we  were  on  tour  we  were 
hardly  out  of  each  other's  sight.  I 
found  myself  feeling  not  quite  complete 
without  him.  And  then  before  we  Itnew 
it  we  were  in  love.  He  began  asking 
me  questions  about  my  family. 

1WAS  a  little  apprehensive  at  first, 
because  Spike  was  an  only  child.  I 
didn't  know  how  he'd  feel  when  he 
learned  about  my  huge  family  .  .  .  there 
are  thirty-five  of  us  including  in-laws 
.  .  .  but  he  loved  the  idea.  Thought  it 
was  great.  He  confided  that  he'd  al- 
ways wanted  to  be  part  of  a  big  family. 
It  miade  Christmas  and  Thanksgiving  so 
much  more  fun. 

I  knew  for  certain  then  that  Spike 
was  the  one  .  .  .  the  one  I  had  been  wait- 
ing for.  It  was  wonderful  to  be  with 
him.  We  understood  each  other.  We 
worked  together  ...  he  wanted  me  to 
go  on  with  my  career.  And  we  liked 
the  same  things  and  the  same  people. 
It  was  as  perfect  a  relationship  as  any 
two  people  could  have. 

We  talked  about  everything.  Es- 
pecially the  kind  of  home  we  wanted. 
One  with  lots  of  children.  Of  course 
we  won't  be  able  to  have  that  for  a 
while.  Not  until  we  stop  going  on  tour 
and  we  can  settle  down  in  one  spot. 
Then  it  will  be  a  bright,  wonderful 
house  somewhere  around  Beverly  Hills 
or  Westwood.  A  house  with  a  swim- 
ming pool,  lots  of  closets,  and  a  big 
nursery. 

Only  once  have  I  ever  been  mad  at 
Spike.     And  then  it  wasn't  for  long. 

It  was  while  we  were  on  tour  in  the 
South.  We  were  playing  a  small  town 
in  West  Virginia  somewhere.  The  thea- 
ter was  over  a  fish  market  of  all  places. 
Right  and  proper  for  the  City  Slickers. 
Anyway,  it  was  the  silliest  shaped  thea- 


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ter  I  had  ever  seen.  It  struck  me  so 
funny  that  I  broke  right  in  the  middle 
of  my  number  and  began  to  laugh.  The 
audience  began  to  laugh  too. 

This  gave  Spike  an  idea.  He  grabbed 
up  one  of  the  instruments  ...  a  seltzer 
bottle  in  C  Major  .  .  .  and  began  spray- 
ing me  with  it.  The  audience  howled. 
But  I  was  furious.  My  new  white  satin 
gown  was  ruined.  But  it  made  such  a 
hit,  and  Spike  was  so  consoling  .  .  . 
between  guffaws  .  .  .  that  I  simply  had 
to  be  a  good  sport.  I  still  have  that 
dress.     A  memento  of  my  courtship. 

It  was  last  Christmas  that  Spike  and 
I  officially  became  engaged.  Knowing 
the  hazards  of  show  business  I  was 
afraid  to  plan  for  a  real  wedding  and  I 
suggested  we  have  a  quick,  quiet  trip 
to  the  nearest  Justice  of  the  Peace. 

BUT  Spike  said  no.  He  wanted  me  to 
have  a  real  wedding.  One  in  full  re- 
galia with  all  the  family  present.  "Don't 
forget,"  he  reminded  me  gently,  "I've 
never  had  much  of  a  family  of  my  own. 
Besides,"  he  added  with  a  sly  little  grin, 
"I  want  a  lot  of  people  to  see  how 
beautiful  you'll  look." 

We  were  in  Las  Vegas  when  we  broke 
the  glad  tidings  and  everyone  was  won- 
derful to  us.  They  were  planning  a 
fashion  show  at  the  hotel,  and  I  was 
asked  to  model  as  a  June  bride.  Spike 
thought  it  was  a  great  idea,  and  with 
much  glee  he  deposited  himself  in  the 
midst  of  the  audience  with  all  his  mov- 
ing picture  equipment  draped  around 
him  so  that  he  looked  like  Frank  Buck 
on  a  cameraman's  holiday. 

This  made  me  quite  nervous,  but  I 
didn't  dare  say  anything  to  him,  be- 
cause I  knew  he  would  tease  me  after- 
wards. I  went  on  with  the  show,  a 
brave  smile  covering  up  the  quakes  in- 
side me.  It  was  so  much  like  the  real 
thing.  Someone  was  singing  "Oh  Prom- 
ise Me,"  there  were  flowers  all  over  the 
place,  and  an  aisle  for  me  to  walk  down. 
And  there  was  Spike  grinding  away  at 
his  little  old  camera  for  all  he  was 
worth.  My  knees  were  shaking,  and  so 
was  the  bouquet  I  was  carrying.  "My, 
you  made  a  wonderful  bride,"  some- 
one said  to  me  afterwards.  "You  acted 
as  though  you  were  really  nervous."  I 
smiled  weakly.     If  they  only  knew! 

Then,  before  I  knew  it,  the  date  for 
the  real  wedding  had  arrived.  Spike 
kept  his  promise.  He  always  keeps  his 
promises.  It  was  going  to  be  exactly 
the  way  he  said  it  would  be.  He  had 
planned  everything  so  carefully,  includ- 
ing our  honest-to-goodness  honeymoon 
in  Honolulu.  Practically  no  one  in 
show  business  ever  gets  a  real  honey- 
moon. 

On  the  morning  of  the  wedding,  I 
was  comparatively  calm.  I  still  couldn't 
believe  it,  though.  I  felt  as  though  the 
girl  sitting  in  her  room  waiting  to  be 
married  were  someone  else.  Not  me 
at  all. 

At  the  rehearsal  I  tried  to  get  my  fa- 
ther to  practice  with  us.  "Why  do  I 
need  to  rehearse,"  he  said  jokingly,  re- 
ferring to  the  number  of  other  daugh- 
ters he  had  already  given  away  in  mar- 
riage.     "I've  had   plenty   of  practice." 

"But  you  won't  have  a  chance  to 
practice  with  this  one  again,"  said  Spike 
pulling  me  close  to  him  and  smiling 
down  at  me. 

Two  hours  before  the  ceremony. 
Spike  called  me  on  the  phone  from  his 
room.  "Hello,  darling,"  he  said,  "how 
do  you  feel?" 

"Scared,"  I  admitted.  "How  about 
you?" 

"Terrified,"  he  said.  "A  nervous 
wreck." 

But   when   I   saw  him   he   was   very 


self-possessed.  I  would  have  been  com- 
pletely fooled  by  his  air  of  assurance 
if  it  were  not  for  the  fact  that  after 
the  ceremony  when  he  was  told  he  could 
kiss  the  bride,  he  bent  over  and  gave 
me  a  quick  peck  on  the  lips,  and  then 
like  a  man  coming  out  of  a  daze,  he 
opened  his  eyes  and  looked  at  me  and 
kissed  me  again.     Hard. 

My  father,  who  saw  the  whole  thing, 
just  grinned  knowingly.  Spike  smiled 
a  little  foolishly  as  we  v.alked  down 
the  aisle  together  as  man  and  wife. 

Suddenly  halfway  down  he  stopped 
and  put  up  his  hand  for  silence.  Then 
he  stepped  aside  and  held  me  at  arm's 
length.  "Look  everybody,"  he  said 
to  the  two  hundred  assembled  guests, 
"I  want  you  to  see  how  beautiful  she 
is."     And  then  he  kissed  me  again. 

I  guess  I'm  one  of  those  rare  brides 
who  stay  for  the  refreshments.  I  really 
didn't  want  to  leave.  Everything  was 
so  wonderful,  everyone  was  so  kind,  and 
I  could  see  Spike  was  loving  every  min- 
ute of  it,  especially  being  with  the 
family. 

I  guess  being  an  only  child  really  had 
an  effect  on  Spike.  All  during  our  stay 
in  Honolulu  he  bought  presents  for  the 
family.  Beach  coats,  jackets,  grass 
skirts,  drums.  There  wasn't  a  shop  that 
didn't  like  to  see  him  coming.  He  was 
Santa  Claus  in  tennis  shorts. 

That  was  the  wonderful  thing  about 
our  honeymoon.  We  could  lounge  in 
comfortable  clothes.  And  lie  on  the 
beach.  We're  both  sun  worshippers. 
And  we  took  long  walks.  We  even 
hunted  pebbles.  And  of  course  Spike 
took  pictures.  Dozens  and  dozens.  The 
most  wonderful  thing  to  Spike,  though, 
was  not  having  to  get  up  until  ten 
o'clock.    And  no  telephones! 

It  was  exciting  being  really  alone 
with  him  for  the  first  time  since  I  had 
known  him.  We  acted  like  a  couple  of 
stock  sweethearts,  discovering  and  re- 
discovering each  other,  recounting  how 
we  first  met,  what  we  first  thought.  It 
was  heaven. 

I  hated  to  come  home,  but  once  in 
Los    Angeles,    we    rapidly    got    in    the] 
swing  again.  | 

SPIKE  invaded  my  parents'  home  like* 
an  army  of  liberation.  He  was  literal- 1 
ly   loaded    with   presents.     The   whole  • 
family  was  there  and  no  Christmas  had 
ever  been  as  exciting.  Spike  looked  like 
a  little  boy  having  the  time  of  his  life. 

Spike  showed  his  pictures,  which 
were  on  gorgeous  colour  film.  They 
were  the  best  pictures  of  the  island 
that  we'd  ever  seen.  He  was  so  proud 
of  himself. 

Well,  the  routines  have  begun  again. 
The  phones  are  ringing  and  the  appoint- 
ment book  is  full. 

There  is  his  radio  show.  Spotlight  Re- 
vue on  Friday  nights.  This  is  the 
toughest  part  of  it  all.  Two  brand  new 
arrangements  every  week  and  a  dif- 
ferent presentation  for  each  guest  star. 
And  then  there's  the  special  material 
for  Dorothy  Shay  .  .  .  the  "Park  Ave- 
nue Hillbilly." 

Spike  is  also  continuing  with  his  Mu- 
sical Depreciation  Revue  which  he 
originated  a  while  back.  Last  year  he 
took  it  on  a  tour  of  a  hundred  and 
thirty-nine  concerts  in  a  hundred  and  , 
thirty-nine  cities.  ! 

We'll  go  out  again  on  tour  this  win-  . 
ter.     The  radio  shows  will  be  remotes 
of  course.    V/e  plan  to  play  the  show  to  j 
special  audiences  of  industrial  workers  '' 
all  over  the  country.  j 

That's  the  thing  that's  so  wonderful 
about  Spike  and  me.    We're  a  team  off  | 
stage  and  on.     And  I  know  it's  going  j 
to  be  a  permanent  arrangement. 


But  Once  a  Year 

(Continued  from  page  59) 


and  beat  until  light.  Add  eggs  and  milk 
and  blend  thoroughly.  Add  vanilla  and 
chocolate  and  mix  well.  Add  dry  in- 
gredients and  combine  thoroughly.  Chill 
slightly  and  put  by  small  portions 
through  cookie  press  onto  ungreased 
baking  sheet.  Bake  in  hot  oven  (400°  F) 
6  to  10  minutes.  About  6  dozen  cookies. 

Holiday   Chocolate   Syrup 

1  cup  cocoa  Va  tsp.  salt 

IV2  cups  sugar  VA  cups  water 

Mix  cocoa,  sugar  and  salt.  Add  water; 
stir  until  well-blended.  Place  pan  over 
low  heat,  boil  5  minutes.  Cool.  Store 
in  covered  jar  in  refrigerator.  Makes 
2  cups. 

To  Make  Hot  Chocolate:  For  each 
serving,  scald  1  cup  of  milk;  add  2  table- 
spoons chocolate  syrup.  Stir  until 
syrup  is  dissolved.  A  pinch  of  cinnamon 
or  nutmeg  may  be  added  if  desired. 

Toasted    Nuts 

1  cup  shelled  nuts 

1  tsp.  oil  or  shortening,  melted 

1  tsp.  salt 

Stir  nuts  in  oil.  Spread  on  baking 
sheet.  Sprinkle  with  salt.  Bake  in  mod- 
erate oven  (350°  F)  about  10  minutes, 
or  until  lightly  browned.  Stir  frequently 
during  baking. 

Cheese  Roll-Dps 

2  cups  biscuit  mix       V2  cup  coarsely  grated 
1/2  to  %  cup  milk  American  cheese 

Add  milk  to  biscuit  mix  and  mix  well, 
Turn  out  on  floured  board,  knead  gently 
eight  to  ten  times.  Roll  out  to  %"  thick 
rectangle,  about  18"  x  6".  Sprinkle  with 
cheese.  Cut  into  triangles.  Roll  up  in 
crescents.  Bake  in  hot  oven  (400°  F) 
for  15  minutes  or  until  brown.  Makes 
10  Roll-Ups. 

Spiced  Cider 

1  quart   cider  6  whole  allspice 

V4  tsp.  salt  4  sticks  cinnamon 

V2  cup  brown  sugar,         orange  and  lemon 
firmly  packed  slices 

6  whole  cloves 

Combine  cider,  salt,  sugar  and  spices 
in  saucepan.  Bring  to  boiling  point,  sim- 
mer for  5  minutes.  Strain  into  heated 
bowl  or  pitcher.  Float  thin  slices  of 
orange   and   lemon   on   top.     Serves   6. 


Pilaf 


6  strips  bacon, 

halved 
3  cups  left-over 

meat  or  fowl, 

diced 
1  large  onion,  sliced 


1  clove  garlic, 
chopped  (optional) 

1  cup  rice 

2  tsps.  salt 
%  tsp.  pepper 

4  cups  water 


Brown  bacon  and  remove  from  skillet, 


mushroom  soup 
1  cup  milk 
3  cups  diced  turkey 
6  slices  bread 


leave  drippings.  To  fat,  add  meat, 
onion  and  garlic;  cook  until  browned. 
Make  layers  of  bacon,  meat,  onions  and 
uncooked  rice  in  baking  dish,  season 
with  salt  and  pepper.  Cover  with  water. 
Bake  in  a  low  oven  (300°  F)  about  1 
hour  until  rice  is  tender  and  liquid 
absorbed.    Makes  6  servings. 

Turkey  in  Toast  Cups 

V2  cup  diced  green  1  can  cream  of 

pepper 
Vi  cup  dried  pimento 
2  tbsps.  shortening 

1  can  cream  of 
chicken  soup  (or) 

Cook  green  pepper,  pimento  and 
shortening  together  in  large  skillet  5 
minutes.  Stir  in  cream  soup,  milk  and 
turkey.  Heat  thoroughly — do  not  boil. 
Serve  in  toast  cups.    Makes  6  portions. 

To  Make  Toast  Cups:  Trim  crusts 
from  bread,  spread  with  softened  but- 
ter. Press  butter  side  down  into  muffin 
tins.  Bake  in  moderate  oven  (375°F) 
until  lightly  browned. 

New  Year  Loaf 

3  cups  pancake  IVa  cups  milk 

mix  2  tbsps.  melted  fat 

V2  cup  sugar  1  cup  chopped 

2  eggs,  beaten  fruit 

Combine  pancake  mix  and  sugar,  add 
eggs  and  milk  and  stir  until  combined. 
Fold  in  melted  fat  and  fruit.  Pour  into 
8x5x3  heavily  greased  loaf  pan.  Bake 
in  moderately  low  oven  (325°  F)  for  1 
hour.  Cool  slightly,  turn  out  on  wire 
rack  and  glaze. 

Glaze:  To  V2  cup  sifted  confectioners' 
sugar,  gradually  add  2  tablespoons  boil- 
ing water  until  a  thin  paste  is  formed. 
Brush  on  top  of  loaf. 

Coffee  Ring 

2  cups  biscuit  mix  margarine 
%  cup  milk 

1  cup  raisins 
V2  cup  brown  sugar 

(firmly  packed) 
V4  cup  butter  or 

Mix  biscuit  mix  and  milk  until  com- 
bined. Place  on  floured  board.  Knead 
gently  8  to  10  times.  Roll  out  into  long 
strip  6"  wide  and  18"  long.  Mix  sugar, 
butter,  raisins  and  spices  and  boiling 
water  to  paste.  Spread  lengthwise 
down  center  of  strip.  Fold  once  length- 
wise, press  edges  together  with  a  fork. 
Lift  into  a  9"  pie  pan,  bring  ends  to- 
gether and  press  to  seal.  Cut  large 
triangular  holes  around  top  of  ring. 
Bake  in  hot  oven  (400°  F)  for  20  to  25 
minutes.     Glaze,  if  desired.     Serves  10. 


V2  tsp.  cinnamon 
¥4  tsp.  nutmeg 
2  tbsps.  boiling 
water 


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93 


Jim  Fitzpatrick,  left,  and  Jim  Bywater 
visited  Art  Linkletter  on  House  Party 
last  Fall,  confided  that  their  joint 
ambition   was   to  be  football  players. 


George  Trafton,  assistant  coach,  Los 
Angeles  Rams,  puts  the  two  youngsters 
through  strenuous  tackling-dummy  drill. 


*i 


TWENTY-FOUR  hours  in  heaven — that's  the  present  Art  Link- 
letter  made  to  two  twelve-year-old  boys  last  Fall.  Heaven  to 
them  was  the  training  camp  of  the  Los  Angeles  Rams  pro  foot- 
ball team. 

The  boys,  Jim  Fitzpatrick  and  Jim  Bywater,  came  to  the  micro- 
phone on  House  Party  as  part  of  the  program's  regular  feature  of 
round  table  discussions  among  children.  When  Art  asked  them 
what  they  wanted  to  be  when  grown  up,  the  answer  came  in  chorus: 
football  players!  It  was  the  next  day  that  the  Rams'  invitation  was 
passed  along  to  the  boys,  and  they  spent  the  following  day  and 
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And  that  wasn't  all.  They  went  home  happy,  but  sorry  it  was  all 
over,  to  find  it  wasn't  over  at  all.  Both  young  Jims  have  been 
guests  at  the  Rams'  games  in  Los  Angeles  Coliseum  all  season. 
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Head  Coach  Clark  Shaughnessy 
instructs  the  two  Jims  in  the 
fine  points  of  pass  from  center. 


94 


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FEBRUARY  •  25^ 


THE  HAPPY  HARRISES 

Closeup  Of  A  Perfect  Marriage 


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Ipana  refreshes  your  mouth  and  breath,  too.  Ask  your  den- 
tist about  Ipana  and  massage.  See  what  it  can  do  for  you! 


Product  of  Bristol-Myers 


-Healtfifcr  ^m%,  tri^fiter  fedfi 


*/n  thousands  of  reports  from  all  over  the  country. 


P.S.  For  correct  brushing,  use  the  DOUBLE  DUTY  Tooth  Brush  with  the  twist  in  the  handle.  1000  dentists  helped  design  it! 


FEBRUARY,  1949 


VOL.  31.  l\0.  3 


RJLDIO 
MIRROR 


AJVD  TJELEVrSIOJV 


KEYSTONE 


NEW,  LONGER 

LIPSTICK 


Feel  like  a  -make  -  tip 
artist.  Look  like  a  society 
deb!  So  easy  to  use  this 
softer,  smoother,  more  flat- 
terivg  lipstick  in  its  new, 
long  glamour  case  of  mock- 
gold  metal.  Try  it  today 
just  to  see  how  divinely 
shaped  your  lips  can  he! 


PlOPtE  ON  THE  AIR 


Betty  North 17 

Traveler  of  the  Month by  Tommy  Bartlett  23 

Oh,   Brother! by    Bob    Crosby  24 

The  Biggest  Break by  Bill  Lawrence  26 

The  Happy  Harrises by  Frankie  Remley  28 

Come  and  Visit  Lum  'n'  Abner by  Pauline  Swanson  30 

Through  the  Years  with  Helen  Trent — in  Pictures 34 

My  Father  Groucho by   Arthur  Marx  38 

The  Girl  That  I  Marry by  Robert  Q.  Lewis  40 

Big   Town — in   Living   Portraits 44 

Bill  CuUen  Takes  All by  Martin  Cohen  52 

Stop  the  Music — in   Color 54 

Lucky  In  Love by  Ken  Carpenter  56 


imtpm^iMfH 


Radio    Mirror    Quiz 3 

Facing  the  Music by  Duke  Ellington  6 

Look  At  the  Records by  Joe  Martin  8 

Collector's   Corner by  Vic   Damone  11 

Information    Booth 19 

What's  New  From  Coast  to  Coast by  Dale  Banks  20 

Inside  Radio 68 

It's  Here! 71 


iiililllilWlliG 


Life   Can   Be  Beautiful 13 

Reach  For  a  Crown by  Mary  Jane  Fulton  14 

Between  the  Bookends by  Ted   Malone  42 

When  A  Girl  Marries by  Joan  Davis  50 

A  Little  Something  Extra — Cooking  Page by  Kate  Smith  58 

Family    Counselor by    Terry    Burton  72 


Vanity  Fair 46 

You  Are  An  Artist 47 

Coast  to  Coast  in  Television 48 


YOiU  R    LOeftL     STATION 


WMCA:  The  Great  Unknown 4 

KDKA:   Earth  And  Mirth 10 

WFIL    Helpful  Howard 12 

WBEN:  Hi  Ya,  Budd! 16 


RADIO  MIRROR  READER  BONUS 


The  Silent  Bride — Front  Page  FarreU  Novelette  by  Helen  Christy  Harris     60 
What  Can  I  Win?— Radio  Mirror's  Quiz  Guide 63 

ON  THE  COVER:  The  Harris  Family:  Alice,  Phil  and  their  children;  color 
portraits  by  Ted  Allen 

Editorial  Director  *     Editor  Art  Director 

FKED  B.  SAMMIS  DORIS  McFEBKAN  JACK  ZASOBIM 

Managing  Editor  Associate  Art  Director 

EVEL,YN  L.  EIOBE  FBANCES  MAL,Y 

Television  Editorial  Assistant  Research 

FBANCES  KISH  JOAN  POELOCK  TERU  GOTO 

Chicago  Office:  Editor.  HEEEN    CAMBRIA    BOESTAD 
Hollywood  Office :  Editor,  ANN  DAGGETT  Managing  Editor,  FBANCES  MOBBIN 

Staff  Photographers,  HYMIE  FINK,  STEBEING  SMITH        Assistant,  BETTY  JO  BICE 


RADIO  AND  TELEVISION  MIRROR,  published  monthly  by  MACFADDEN  PUBLICATIONS.  INC.,  New  York,  N.  1. 
General  Business,  Editorial  and  Advertising  Offices,  205  East  42nd  St.,  New  York  17.  N.  Y.  Hollywood^Beverly 
Hills  Office:  321  S.  Beverly  Drive,  Beverly  Hills,  California.  O.  J.  Elder,  President;  Harold  Wise,  Executive  Vice 
President;  Herbert  Drake,  Vice  President;  Joseph  Schultz.  Vice  President;  Ernest  V.  Heyn.  Vice  President, 
Mever  Dworkin,  Secretai-y  and  Treasurer;  Edward  F.  Lethcn,  Advertising  Director.  Chicago  Office:  221  North  La 
Salle  St.,  Leslie  R.  Gage,  Mgr.  San  Francisco  Office;  1613  Russ  Building,  Joseph  M.  Dooher,  Mp.  Los  Angeles 
Office:  Suite  908,  649  South  Olive  St.,  George  Weatherby,  Mgr.  Charles  O.  Terwilliger,  Jr.,  Eastern  Advertising 
Manager,  205  East  42nd  St.,  New  York  17,  N.  Y.  Reentered  as  Second  Class  matter  March  1,  1948  at  the  Post 
Office  at  New  York,  N  Y.  under  the  Act  of  March  3,  1879.  Subscription  rates:  U.  S.  and.  Possessioris,  Canada  ana 
Newfoundland.  ,f2.50  per  year.  All  other  countries  $5.00  per  year.  Price  per  copy:  25c  m  the  United  States  ana 
Canada.  While  Manuscripts,  Photographs  and  Drawings  are  submitted  at  the  owners  risk,  every  effort  win  oe 
made  to  return  those  found  unavailable  it  accompanied  by  sufficient  first  class  postage  and  explicit  name  and 
address.  Contributors  are  especially  advised  to  be  sure  to  retain  cx>pies  of  their  contributions;  .b"ijr5^'SJi,h''f,? 
are  taking  unnecessary  risk.  The  contents  of  this  magazine  may  not  be  reprinted  either  wholly  or  in  part  without 
permis  i  (Member  of  Macfadden   Women's  Group)  .   ^^  ^  ...  .,, 

CoDVright,    1949.   bv  Macfadden  Publications,   Inc.   All   rights  resei*ved  under  International   Copyright  Convention.   All 
rights   reserved    under,  Pan-American    Copyright    Convention.    Todos    dcrechos    reservados    segun    La    Convencion    Pan- 
americana  de  Propiedad  Literaria  y  Artistica.  Title  trademark  registered  in  U.  S.  Patent  Office. 
p^.^^^^,7j^  ^     g     ^    ^^  ^^  Color  Printing  Co.    Dunellen,   N.  J. 


RADIO  MIRROR  OUIZ 


1.  "The  Happiness  Boys"  were  one  of  the 
best-known  singing  teams  of  their  day. 
What  were  their  names? 


2.  This  top  singer 
got  her  start  in 
a  trio  with  her 
two  sisters.  Who 
is   she? 


3.  Al  Jolson  started 
his  career  as  (a) 
a  circus  barker ; 
(b)  a  minstrel 
man;  (c)  in  an 
act  with  his  broth- 
er. 


4.  This  father  is 
the  most  famous 
juvenile  on  the 
air.  Who  is  he? 


5.  What  famous 
comedian  is  a  for- 
mer trombonist? 


6.  This  comic  did 
his  radio  show 
from  a  wheel 
chair  for  a  year. 
Who  is  he? 


7.  How  many  nerve   cells   are   there   in   the 
brain  ? 

8.  Who  was  the  youngest  baseball  player  to 
get  in  the  major  leagues? 


ANSWERS: 

A|!UJDj  LjoupiY 

3l^J_    ^O    SUO^.^    DJZ^ 

> 

jaijfojq   sji^ 

JBIPJ   qog   -8 

l|4|M    43D     UD     Ul      (Sj 

£ 

uoilliq  e^iaMX    L 

suapij  euop 

2 

,,sn]|jD!|DA)|jDj,,  -q 

OiO\^     8IUJ3 

DuuojoQ  Ajjsp  -g 

puD    sauop   A||ig 

•| 

\'m  a  safety-ftrst  girl  with  tkm 


Smart  girl,  not  to  let  lovely  snug-fitting  wool  become 
a  trap  for  underarm  odor.  You  stay  nice  to  be  near 
because  your  charm  stays  safe  with  Mum! 

Even  in  winter,  there's  a  heat  wave  under  your  arms. 
Odor  can  form  without  any  noticeable  moisture.  And 
remember— a  bath  only  washes  away  past  perspiration, 
but  Mum  guards  against  future  underarm  odor. 


Product  oj  Bristol-Myers 


safer  for  charm 


PlXUfti  safer  for  cfothes 


safer  for  skin 


Mum  checks  perspiration  odor,  protects 
your  daintiness  all  day  or  all  evening. 

Because  Mum  contains  no  harsh  or  irri- 
tating ingredients.  Snow-white  Mum  is 
gentle— harmless  to  skin. 

No  damaging  ingredients  in  Mum  to  rot 
or  discolor  fine  fabrics.  Economical  Mum 
doesn't  dry  out  in  the  jar.  Quick,  easy  to 
use,  even  after  you're  dressed. 


Dr.  G.  M.  Gilbert,  U.  S.  Psychologist  at  the  Nazi  war  crimes  trials,  and  conductor  of 
Adventures  Into  The  Mind,  talks  with  Hermann  Goering  while  Rudolph  Hess  watches. 


THE 


I 


mk] 


fl 


UNKNOWN 


Associate  Professor  of  Psychology 
at  Princeton  University,  Dr.  Gil- 
bert conducts  a  unique  radio  class. 
Below,  he  tests  the  aptitudes  of  two 
members    of    his    studio    audience. 


PSYCHOLOGY  BY  RADIO  is  here.  WMCA  in  New  York  City,  long  a 
pioneer  in  the  public  service  field,  boasts  one  of  the  most  unique 
programs  in  radio — Adventures  Into  The  Mind,  a  weekly  radio  class 
that  gives  listeners  a  complete  college  course  in  psychology. 

Now  in  its  fourth  year.  Adventures  Into  The  Mind  is  conducted  by  Dr. 
G.  M.  Gilbert,  Associate  Professor  of  Psychology  at  Princeton  University. 
Dr.  Gilbert,  a  Captain  in  the  Army  during  World  War  II,  served  as  prison 
psychologist  during  the  Nuremberg  trials  of  Hermann  Goering,  Rudolph 
Hess  and  the  other  Nazi  war  criminals.  He  is  the  author  of  the  best  seller 
Nuremberg  Diary — a  first  hand  study  of  the  perpetrators  of  World  War  II. 

The  WMCA  program,  heard  on  Sundays  from  5:03  to  5:30  P.M.,  explores 
the  multiple  phases  of  psychology.  Dr.  Gilbert's  subjects  each  week  are 
carefully  selected  and  have  the  approval  of  the  station's  educational  de- 
partment, collaborating  with  an  advisory  committee  of  leading  educators. 

"This  is  not  a  'quack'  course,"  explains  Dr.  Gilbert.  "We  attempt  to 
help  our  radio  audience  understand  psychology  as  we  would  teach  an 
average  college  class.  For  instance,  we  try  to  teach  individuals  how  they 
best  can  apply  their  own  particular  talents  and  capacities." 

A  studio  audience  augments  "Adventure's"  huge  radio  audience  in 
WMCA's  listening  area  of  New  York,  New  Jersey  and  Connecticut.  Studio 
guests  obtain  semester  tickets  for  all  broadcasts,  participate  in  question 
and  answer  periods  and  get  additional  information  from  the  seminars 
which  precede  and  follow  the  broadcasts. 

At  any  rate,  listeners,  who  get  their  share  of  "entertainment"  every  day, 
can  now  go  to  "college"  merely  by  tuning  in  to  WMCA  every  Sunday. 


I 


THESE  GERMS  ARE 

POTENTIAL 
TROUBLEMAKERS 


Pncumococcus  Type  III  Pneumococcus  Type  IV 


streptococcus  viridans  Triedlander's  bacillus 


LISTERINE  ANTISEPTIC-Q(f/C^ 


Germs  Reduced  as  Much  as  96.7% 
Even  Fifteen  Minutes  after  Gargle — 
tests  showed 

If  you  can  get  the  jump  on  the  cold  in 
the  early  stages  .  .  .  attack  germs  on 
throat  surfaces  before  they  invade  the 
body  .  .  .  you  can  often  "nip"  a  cold  in 
the  bud  or  lessen  its  severity. 

That's  why  you  ought  to  gargle  with 
Listerine  Antiseptic  at  the  very  first  hint 
of  a  sniffle,  sneeze,  or  a  tightened  throat. 

Listerine  Antiseptic  reaches  way  back 


on  throat  surfaces  and  kills  millions  of 
germs,  including  the  "secondary  invad- 
ers." Just  think,  clinical  tests  showed 
that  after  this  gargle  germs  were  re- 
duced as  much  as  96.7%  fifteen  minutes 
after,  and  up  to  80%  one  hour  after. 

In  short,  Listerine  Antiseptic,  with 
quick  germ-killing  action,  is  a  wonder- 
ful aid. 

Remember  also  that  in  tests  over  a 
12-year  period,  regular  twice-a-day  users 
of  Listerine  Antiseptic  had  fewer  colds, 


Stapliylococcus  aureus 


'SECONDARY  INVADERS' 


These  germs,  even  when  a  cold  is 
initiated  by  a  virus,  contribute  to  much 
of  its  misery  when  they  stage  a  mass 
invasion  of  throat  tissues. 


and  generally  milder  ones,  than  non- 
users;  also  that  sore  throats  due  to  colds 
were  fewer. 

Lambert  Pharmacal  Company 

St.  Louis,  Missouri 


P.  S.  IT'S  NEW!  Have  you  tried  Listerine  TOOTH  PASTE,  the  MINTY  3-way  prescription  for  your  teeth? 


The  stars  of  American  Album  of  Familiar  Music:    (seated  1.  to  r.)   Margaret  Daum, 
Gustave  Haenschen,  Evelyn  MacGregor;  standing,  Donald  Dame  and  Jean  Dickinson. 


By  DUKE  EILINGTON 


whose  disc  show  is  heard 
on  WSBC-Chicago,  Illinois; 
WWDC-Washington,  D.  C.  and 
KXLE-Ellensberg,  Washington. 


THE  neatest  switch  of  the  year  in  the 
recording  business  ,is  Decca's  con- 
version of  comedian  Peter  Lind 
Hayes  from  a  children's  record  artist 
to  a  singer  of  popular  tunes.  Hayes 
sounds  like  a  cross  between  Godfrey 
and  Crosby,  and  from  what  I  hear,  the 
sales  figures  for  his  discs  bear  out  the 
comparison. 

*  *         * 

It  is  actually  big  news  in  this  busi- 
ness when  a  band  leader  finally  gets  to 
buy  a  home  for  himself  and  his  family. 
What  with  Vaughn  Monroe  doing  about 
125  one-night  stands  a  year  it  is  extra 
big  news  that  he's  purchased  a  Geor- 
gian-style house  in  Waban,  Massa- 
chusetts, for  his  wife  and  two  little  girls.- 
What's  more,  Vaughn  also  purchased  a 
13-passenger  Lockheed  .  Lodestar  in 
order  to  fly  his  crew  of  musicians  to 
their  one-night  stands  in  two  shifts. 
Vaughn  expects  to  get  that  much  more 
time  to  spend  at  home. 

*  *         * 

Dean  Martin  and  Jerry  Lewis  sky- 
rocketed to  the  very  top  of  the  night 
club  business  during  the  past  year  and 
then  proved  that  their  appeal  is  by  no 


means  limited  to  cafes  when  their  very 
first  record  for  Capitol  jumped  right  up 
into  the  top  seller  class.  Now,  they've 
finished  work  on  their  first  picture, 
Paramount's  "My  Friend  Irma,"  and 
those  who've  seen  the  preview*  predict 
that  the  singing  comics  will  be  triply 
sensational! 

*         *         * 

It  was  quite  a  surprise  recently  to 
discover  that  Adelaide  Hall  was  back 
in  the  United  States.  Adelaide,  you  see, 
was  my  first  vocalist.  After  leaving  my 
band  to  understudy  the  great  Florence 
Mills  in  a  Broadway  show,  Adelaide 
went  to  England  with  a  road  company. 
She  stayed  in  England  for  the  past  four- 
teen years  doing  quite  well  for  herself 
as  a  theater  star,  radio  artist  and  night 
club  entertainer  and  owner.  Back  home 
now,  for  her  first  visit  in  all  these  years 
to  her  native  Brooklyn,  Adelaide  is  re- 
newing many  old  friendships. 
«         *         * 

If  you're  wondering  whatever  became 
of  the  Merry  Macs,  they're  back  after 
eight  months  in  Europe  entertaining 
American  troops  in  Germany  and  Brit- 
ish civilians  in  England. 


the  music 


Pert  Kay  Starr  sings  toe-tapping 
tunes    on    Starring    Kay    Starr. 


The  original  group  was  a  vocal  har- 
mony trio  consisting  of  three  brothers 
— Judd,  Ted  and  Joe  McMichael— that 
was  formed  in  1934.  Two  years  later 
they  had  acquired  a  girl  singer  to  make 
the  group  a  quartet.  While  touring  the 
country  they  landed  in  New  York  and 
were  immediately  signed  for  the  Fred 
Allen  program. 

It  was  during  the  time  they  were  with 
Fred  Allen  that  the  Macs  came  up 
against  a  hefty  problem — their  girl 
singers  were  running  off  to  get  married 
with  annoying  regularity.  These  days, 
there  is  no  such  problem.  Marjorie  Mc- 
Michael laughingly  asserts  that  her 
husband,  Judd,  made  the  supreme  sacri- 
fice— he  married  her  to  make  sure  that 
she  stayed  in  the  act. 

The  only  other  change  in  the  group 
came  during  the  war  when  brother  Joe 
left  to  join  the  Air  Force.  He  was  re- 
placed by  Lynn  Allen  who,  in  turn,  has 
recently  been  replaced  by  Englishman 
Clive   Erard. 

The  new  dance  routines,  designed  by 
choreographer  Nick  Castle,  have  been 
as  well  received  by  the  Macs'  audiences 
as  their  song  arrangements  always  are. 


All  set  for  a  video  show,  Evelyn  Knight,  Helen  Forrest,  Johnnie 
Johnston   register  alarm  at  sight   of   each   other's   heavy  makeup. 


Dinah    Shore    was    Gordon    MacRae's    guest    star    on    a    recent 
broadcast  of  The  Railroad  Hour,  heard  Monday  nights  on  ABC. 


Your  loveliness 
is  Doubly  Safe 


Veto  gives  you 
Double  Protection! 


W'qpeol^C^^ . .  Veto  guards  your 
loveliness  night  and  day — safely  protects 
your  clothes  and  you.  For  Veto  not  only 
neutralizes  perspiration  odor,  it  checks  per- 
spiration, too !  Yes,  Veto  gives  you  Double 
Protection !  And  Veto  disappears  instantly  to 
protect  you  from  the  moment  you  apply  it! 


}(y  G^C^OCC(y  . . .  Always  creamy  and 
smooth.  Veto  is  lovely  to  use  and  keeps  you 
lovely.  And  Veto  is  gentle,  safe  for  normal 
skin,  safe  for  clothes.  Doubly  Safe!  Veto 
alone  contains  Duratex,  Colgate's  exclusive 
ingredient  to  make  Veto  safer.  Let  Veto 
give   your   loveliness   double    protection! 

Wetn  lasts  and  Easts 

front  bath  to  bath  I 


Dinah    Shore:    two    new    sides 
with    the     romantic    treatment. 


LOOK  AT  THE 
RECORDS 

By  Joe  Martin 

DANCING  OR  LISTENING 


DINAH  SHORE  (Columbia) — The  last  quarter  of  1948  saw  Dinah  give  out  with  some 
fine  new  discs.  One  of  these  was  a  coupling  of  the  waltz  tempo  "Far  Away  Places"  and 
"Say  It  Every  Day."    The  two-piano  accompaniment  is  excellent. 

PEARL  BAILEY  (Columbia) — Never  has  a  singer  been  able  to  project  so  much  person- 
ality on  a  shellac  disc  as  Mrs.  Bailey's  girl  Pearl.  "I'm  Lazy,  That's  All"  is  the  perfect 
follow-up  tune  for  her  "Tired."    You'll  like  "Say  It  Simple,"  too. 

PAGE  CAVANAUGH  TRIO  (RCA  Victor)— This  bright  young  trio  does  quite  well  for 
itself  on  "Back  In  Your  Own  Backyard"  and  "Where'd  Dat  Money  Go?"  The  whisper- 
ing-style vocals  go  well  with  their  musical  variations. 

TEX  BENEKE  (RCA  Victor)— Remember  the  wonderful  Glenn  Miller  disc  of  "Blue 
Champagne"?  Here's  the  1948  version  by  the  Beneke  band — and  it's  every  bit  as  good, 
if  not  a  little  better.  The  reverse  is  "East  Of  The  Sun,"  the  oldie,  sung  by  Garry  Stevens. 

FREDDIE  SLACK  (Capitol)— It's  "Mister  Freddie's  Boogie"  and  "Be-Bop  Boogie"  that 
are  back-to-back.  It's  a  little  difficult  to  understand  how  boogie  woogie  can  be  be-bop, 
but  if  Benny  Carter  wrote  it,  it  must  be  so. 

JO  STAFFORD  (Capitol) — The  terrific  Miss  Stafford  comes  through  with  another  pair 
of  tunes  done  beautifully.  Accompanied  by  Paul  Weston,  she  sings  "Smilin'  Through" 
and  "Ave  Maria." 

JANE  PICKENS  (RCA  Victor)— Most  of  us  will  have  to  think  hard  to  recall  the  days 
when  the  Pickens  Sisters  were  the  rage  of  the  nation.  Here  is  Jane  Pickens  singing  a 
pair  of  hit  tunes  in  true  hit-tune  fashion.  Take  your  pick  between  "Galway  Bay"  and 
"One  Sunday  Afternoon." 

ANNE  SHELTON-AMBROSE  (London)— The  finest  thing  Miss  Shelton  has  done  since 
her  recent  debut  on  records  in  America  is  the  two-sided  version  of  "Tenement  Sym- 
phony."  The  Ambrose  orchestral  background  is.  wonderful. 

JOHN  LAURENZ  (Mercury)— "Red  Roses  For  A  Blue  Lady"  is  bound  to  be  a  hit  song, 
and  John's  record  will  do  much  to  help  it  reach  the  top.  The  reverse  side  is  "Somebody's 
Lyin'."  John's  version  of  "The  Mountaineer  And  The  Jabberwock"  is  Lewis  Carroll  set 
to  music. 

BLUE  RHYTHM  BAND  (MGM)— The  original  Blue  Rhythm  Band  was  led  by  Lucky 
Millinder.  Van  Alexander  waves  the  baton  in  front  of  this  group.  "Blue  Rhythm  Jam" 
and  "Blue  Rhythm  Be-Bop"  feature  such  musicians  as  Stan  Getz,  Don  Lamond  and 
Jimmy  Rowles. 

PHILIP  GREEN  (MGM)— The  English  maestro  plays  an  American  "Stringopation"  and 
an  English  "Dream  Of  Olwen."  Both  sides  are  designed  for  easy  listening.  You'll  like 
them. 

STEVE  GIBSON  AND  RED  CAPS  (Mercury)— "You  Made  Me  Love  You"  and  "I 
Learned  A  Lesson"  will  be  in  almost  every  juke  box  in  the  country.  It  will  find  its  way 
into  many  a  record  collection — probably  yours  and  mine  both. 


"I  WAS  ASHAMED 
OF  MY  FACE 

until  Viderm  made  my  dreams  of  a 
dearer  skin  come  true  in  one  short  week" 

(FROM  A  LEHER  TO  BETTY  MEMPHIS  SENT  HER  BY  ETHEL  JORDAN,  DETROIT,  MICH.) 

If  your  face  is  broken  out,  if  bad  sliin  is  maliing  you 

miserable,  here  is  how  to  stop  worrying 

about  pimples,  blackheads 

and  other  externally  caused  skin  troubles. 


JUST  FOLLOW  SKIN  DOCTOR'S  SIMPLE  DIRECTIONS 


BETTY   MEMPHI-S 


^ellu  tyMem^Ai^ 


\ 


I  just  want  to  be  alone!"  Is  there  any- 
thing more  awful  than  the  blues  that 
come  when  your  face  is  broken  out  and 
you  feel  like  hiding  away  because. of 
pimples,  blackheads  and  similar  exter- 
nally caused  skin  troubles?  I  know  how 
it  feels  from  personal  experience.  And  I 
can  appreciate  the  wonderful,  wonder- 
ful joy  that  Ethel  S.  Jordan  felt  when 
she  found  something  that  not  only 
promised  her  relief — but  gave  it  to  her 
in  just  one  short  week! 

When  I  was  having  my  own  skin 
troubles,  I  tried  a  good  many  cosmetics, 
ointments  and  whatnot  that  were  rec- 
ommended to  me.  I  remember  vividly 
how  disappointed  I  felt  each  time,  until 
I  discovered  the  skin  doctor's  formula 
now  known  as  the  Double  Viderm 
Treatment.  I  felt  pretty  wonderful  when 
friends  began  to  rave  about  my  "movie- 
star  skin."  No  more  self-consciousness. 
No  more  having  my  friends  feel  sorry 
for  me.  The  secret  joy,  again,  of  running 
my  fingertips  over  a  smoother,  clearer 
skin. 

Many,  women  shut  themselves  out  of  the 
thrills  of  life — dates,  romance,  popularity, 
social  and  business  success — only  because 
sheer  neglect  has  robbed  them  of  the  good 
looks,  poise  and  feminine  self-assurance 
which  could  so  easily  be  theirs.  Yes,  every- 
body looks  at  your  face.   The  beautiful 


A  screen  star's 
face  is  her  for- 
tune. That's  why 
she  makes  it  her 
business  to  pro- 
tect her  com- 
plexion against 
pimples,  black- 
heads and  blem- 
ishes. Your  face  is 
no  different.  Give 
it  the  Double 
Treatment  it 
needs  and  watch 
those  skin  blem- 
ishes go  away. 


complexion,  which  is  yours  for  the  asking, 
is  like  a  permanent  card  of  admission  to 
all  the  good  things  of  life  that  every 
woman  craves.  And  it  really  can  be  yours 
— take  my  word  tor  it! — no  matter  how 
discouraged  you  may  be  this  very  minute 
about  those  externally  caused  skin  miseries. 

What  Makes  "Bad  Skin"  Get  That  Way? 

iWedical  science  gives  us  the  truth  about 
how  skin  blemishes  usually  develop.  There 
are  small  specks  of  dust  and  dirt  in  the  air 
all  the  time.  When  these  get  into  the  open 
pores  in  your  skin,  they  can  in  time 
"stretch"  the  pores  and  make  them  large 
enough  to  pocket  dirt  particles,  dust  and 
infection.  These  open  pores  become  in- 
fected and  bring  you  the  humiliation  of 
pimples,  blackheads  or  other  blemishes. 
Often,  the  natural  oils  that  lubricate  your 
skin  will  harden  in  the  pores  and  result  in 
unsightly  blemishes. 

When  you  neglect  your  skin  by  no.t  giv- 
ing it  the  necessary  care,  you  leave  your- 
self wide  open  to  externally  caused  skin 
miseries.  Yet  proper  attention  with  the 
Double  Viderm  Treatment  may  mean  the 
difference  between  enjoying  the  confidence 
a  fine  skin  gives  you  or  the  embarrassment 
of  an  ugly,  unbeautiful  skin  that  makes 
you  want  to  hide  your  face. 

The  Double  Viderm  Treatment  is  a  for- 
mula prescribed  with  amazing  success  by 
a  dermatologist  and  costs  you  only  a  few 
cents  daily.  This  treatment  consists  of  two 
jars.  One  contains  Viderm  Skin 
C.leanser,  a  jelly-like  formula  which 
penetrates  your  pores  and  acts  as  an 
antiseptic.  After  you  use  this  special 
Viderm  Skin  Cleanser,  you  simply  ap- 
ply the  Viderm  Fortified  Medicated 
Skin  Cream.  You  rub  this  in,  leaving  an 
almost  invisible  protective  covering  for 
the  surface  of  your  skin. 

This  double  treatment  has  worked 
wonders  for  so  many  cases  of  external 
skin  troubles  that  ft  may  help  you,  too 
— in  fact,  your  money  will  be  refunded 
it  it  doesn't.  Use  it  for  only  ten  days. 
You  have  everything  to  gain  and  noth- 
ing to  lose.  It  is  a  guaranteed  treat- 
ment. Enjoy  it.  Your  dream  of  a  clearer, 
smoother  complexion  may  come  true 
in  ten  days  or  less. 


U  sa  your  Double  Viderm  Treatment 
every  day  until  your  skin>is  smoother  and 
clearer.  Then  use  it  only  once  a  week  to 
remove  stale  make-up  and  dirt  specks 
that  infect  your  pores,  as  well  as  to  aid  in 
healing  external  irritations.  Remember 
that  when  you  help  prevent  blackheads, 
you  also  help  to  prevent  externally  caused 
skin  miseries  and  pimples. 

Just  mail  your  name  and  address  to  Betty 
Memphis,  care  of  the  New  York  Skin 
Laboratory,  206  Division  Street,  Dept.21, 
New  York  2,  N.  Y.  By  return  mail  you  will 
receive  the  doctor's  directions,  and  both 


jars,  packed  in  a  safety-sealed  carton.  On 
delivery,  pay  two  dollars  plus  postage.  If 
you  wish,  you  can  save  the  postage  fee  by 
mailing  the  two  dollars  with  your  letter. 
•Then,  if  you  are  in  any  way  dissatisfied, 
your  money  will  be  cheerfully  refunded. 
To  give  you  an  idea  of  how  fully  tested 
and  proven  the  Viderm  Double  Treatment 
is,  it  may  interest  you  to  know  that,  up  to 
this  month,  over  two  hundred  and  thirty- 
one  thousand  women  have  ordered  it  on 
my  recommendation.  If  you  could  only  see 
the  thousands  of  happy,  grateful  letters 
that  have  come  to  me  as  a  result,  you 
would  know  the  joy  this  simple  treatment 
can  bring.  And,  think  of  it! — the  treat- 
ment must  work  for  you,  or  it  doesn't  cost 
you  a  cent. 


At  the  Pennsylvania  Farm  Show  in  Harrisburg,  Agricultural  Director  Homer 
Martz  interviews  visitors  at  KDKA's  booth.    Martz  visits  many  such  fairs. 


WESTINGHOUSE  Station  KDKA  at  Pittsburgh  boasts  a  public 
service  feature  that  begins  before  sunrise  and  continues  long  after 
sunset.  It's  the  KDKA  Farm  Service. 

The  KDKA  Farm  Hour  is  heard  every  weekday  from  6-7  A.M.,  the 
daily  Noon  Market  Reports  and  special  features  Monday,  Wednesday 
and  Friday  during  the  6: 15  P.M.  public  service  period. 

Heading  up  this  all-important  service  is  Homer  Martz,  the  station's 
agricultural  director,  who  joined  KDKA  in  September,  1942.  He  is  a 
longtime  member  of  the  Pennsylvania  State  Agricultural  Division, 
and  he  is  a  practical  farmer,  having  successfully  operated  his  own 
150-acre  tract  in  Western  Pennsylvania. 

Mainly  through  Director  Martz's  efforts,  the  Farm  Hour  and  the 
other  agricultural  broadcasts  entertain,  inform  and  help  city  listeners, 
as  well  as  proving  of  great  service  to  KDKA's  rural  neighbors. 

Martz  naturally  makes  himself  as  useful  as  possible  to  farmers.  He 
knows  the  problems  they  face  and  he  has  proven  of  great  helo  to 
them.  In  addition  to  his  wox-k  at  the  station,  he  is  a  familiar  figur<^  at 
all  agricultural  meetings,  fairs,  and  shows.  Transcribed  and  "1:  /e" 
interviews  with  farm  youngsters  are  regular  features  of  his  programs. 


Fun  as  well  as  facts:  Slim  Bryant  and 
the  Wildcats — hillbilly  and  folk  song 
specialists — amuse  on  the  Farm  Hour. 


i 


Director  Martz  visits 
the  Live  Stock  Show 
in  Pittsburgh  to  in- 
terview Clifford  Teets 
Jr.,  a  winner  in  the 
grand  champion  class. 


ykkk 


L^oliector  A  L^i 


or  S  x^orner 

By  VIC  DAMONE 


{From  elevator  operator  at  the  New 
York  Paramount  Theater  to  headliner 
on  the  stage  of  the  same  showplace  is 
Vic  Damone's  success  story.  Recently 
chosen  as  the  most  promising  male 
vocalist  by  the  nation's  disc-jockeys, 
Vic  is  one  of  Mercury  Records'  top 
vocal  stars.  He  is  also  heard  on  his  own 
coast  to  coast  radio  show  (Saturdays, 
7:30  P.M.,  EST,  NBC)  and  firmly  be- 
lieves that  Brooklyn  is  the  garden  spot 
of  the  world.) 

I  SUPPOSE  that  some  people  wouldn't 
have  any  trouble  at  all  in  naming 
their  favorite  phonograph  records — 
just  like  that.  It's  always  a  difficult 
selection  for  me  to  make,  though.  While 
it's  true  that  I  haven't  been  collecting 
records  for  a  very  long  time,  I've  been 
building  my  collection  at  a  fast  pace 
these  past  few  years.  My  favorites  in- 
clude vocals,  instrumentals,  novelties 
and  classics.  Now,  before  I  rim  out  of 
space,  I'd  like  to  list  my  favorites. 

There's  little  explanation  needed  for 
collecting  a  record  like  Frank  Sinatra's 
"The  House  I  Live  In"  on  Columbia. 

Cammarata's  "Rumbalero"  with  the 
Kingsway  Symphony  Orchestra  is  won- 
derful music  written  and  conducted  by 
one  of  the  finest  musicians  I've  ever 
known  (London). 

There  are  few  singers  who  will  ever 
equal  the  brilliance  of  Ezio  Pinza.  Most 
of  all,  I  like  his  Columbia  Record  of 
"Madamina!"  from  "Don  Giovanni." 

Of  all  the  platters  recorded  by  Patti 
Page  (including  those  we  made  to- 
gether) ,  I  like  most  of  all  her  version  of 
"Every  So  Often."    It's  a  Mercury  disc. 

No  one  can  even  borrow  my  copy  of 
"Big  Noise  From  Winnetka"  on  Decca. 
It  features  Ray  Bauduc  on  drums  and 
Bob  Haggart  on  bass. 

And  who  can  overlook  the  jazz  classic 
on  RCA  Victor  of  the  Glenn  Miller  band 
playing  "In  The  Mood"? 

Among  all  the  Crosby  classics,  I'd 
choose  his  Decca  disc  of  "On  The  Sunny 
Side  Of  The  Street"  accompanied  by  the 
Lionel  Hampton  Band. 

The  greatest  singer  of  all  time  is 
represented  by  "Vesti  La  Giubba"  from 
the  opera  "Pagliacci."  That's  Enrico 
Caruso  and  it's  also  on  RCA  Victor. 

And,  only  because  I've  been  asked, 
I'll  stick  my  neck  out  and  pick  from  my 
own  recordings.  I'll  always  lean  toward 
"I  Have  But  One  Heart"  which  I  re- 
corded with  Jerry  Gray.  The  other 
favorite  is  "Ave  Maria"  which  I  sang 
with  a  chorus  directed  by  Mitch  Miller. 


One  Permanent  Cost  $15...the  TONI  only  $2 


If  you  aim  to  be  "Queen  of  his  Heart"  this 
Valentine's  Day  .  .  .  Toni  can  help  you 
look  the  part!  Because  having  a  Toni 
Home  Permanent  is  almost  like  having 
naturally  -  curly  hair!  Lovely -to -look -at 
waves  and  soft-to-touch  curls !  But  before 
trying  Toni  you'll  want  to  know: 

Will  TONI  work  on  my  hair? 

Of  course.  Toni  waves  any  kind  of  hair 
that  will  take  a  permanent,  including  gray, 
dved,  bleached  or  baby-fine  hair. 

Must  I  be  clever  with  my  hands? 

Not  at  all.  If  you  can  roll  your  hair  up  on 
curlers,  you  can  give  yourself  a  Toni.  It's 
so  surprisingly  easy  that  each  month 
another  two  million  women  use  Toni. 

Why  is  TONI  preferred  by  most  women? 

Because  Toni  Waving  Lotion  is  not  a 

harsh,  hurry-up  salon  type.  Instead  it's 
marvelously  mild.  It  just  coaxes  your 
hair  into  soft  waves  and  curls.  That's 
why  your  Toni  wave  looks  more  natural 
even  on  the  first  day. 


NOW^  over)^(million  women 

a  month  use  Toni 


How  long  will  my  TONI  last? 

Your  lovely  Toni  wave  is  guaranteed  to 
last  just  as  long  as  a  $15  beauty  shop 
permanent  ...  or  your  money  back. 

How  much  will  I  save  with  TONI? 

The  Toni  Kit  with  re-usable  plastic  curlers 
costs  $2.  For  a  second  Toni  all  you  need 
is  the  Toni  Refill  Kit.  It  costs  just  $1. 

Which  twin  has  the  TONI? 

Talented,  teen-age  Kathlene  and  Helene 
Crescente  live  in  Ridgewood,  N.  J.  Kath- 
lene, the  twin  on  the  right,  has  the  Toni.  She 
says:  "I  never  knew  a  permanent  could 
look  so  natural  right  from  the  start!" 


11 


Howard   Jones   knows   his    crops — he   is   a   farmer   himself. 
Here   he   engages  a   farmer   in   a   conversation   about   corn. 


Jones  broadcasts  from  his  farm.    Wife  Mary 
gives  him  advice  on  the  feminine  viewpoint. 


R 
M 

12 


Back  from  the  feed  store,  Jones  unloads  a   sack  of   chow. 
His   radio   earnings   brought  him   the  farm   of  his   dreams. 


PHILADELPHIA  is  the  Nation's  third  largest  city  and 
most  of  us  are  inclined  to  forget  that  it  lies  in  the  center 
of  one  of  the  most  fertile  farm  areas  of  the  East — that  of 
Eastern  Pennsylvania,  South  Jersey,  Delaware,  and  Mary- 
land. However,  Howard  Jones,  conductor  of  WFIL's  Farmer 
Jones  program,  forgets  neither  fact. 

Jones  does  his  weekday  6  A.M.  broadcast  direct  from  his 
own  farm.  He  gives  his  fellow  farmers  the  information 
they  want — on  market  and  weather  reports  and  general 
agricultural  data — but  he  realizes  that  these  elements  are 
of  interest  to  farmers  only,  so  he  packs  his  one-hour  show 
with  information  that  will  appeal  to  city  listeners  as  well. 

Jones  likes  to  interview  other  farmers,  and  in  these  dis- 
cussions he  emphasizes  the  crop  outlook,  consumer  prices, 
and  farm  problems — phases  of  rural  life  that  have  a  definite 
effect  on  the  city  consumer.  "We  want  to  establish  a  better 
relationship  between  them  and  the  people  who  work  our 
farms  today." 

Although  the  Jones  program  is  less  than  a  year  old,  last 
fall  it  won  the  New  Jersey  State  Fair's  annual  Radio  Blue 
Ribbon  Award  for  the  outstanding  farm  broadcasts  in  the 
area.    Frequently  the  show  originates  from  such  fairs. 

As  a  farmer  himself,  Jones  can  talk  turkey  to  any  rural 
audience  and  make  plenty  of  sense.  Meanwhile,  countless 
thousands  of  city  listeners  know  him  as  one  of  Phila- 
delphia's favorite  radio  entertainers.  He  can  handle  just 
about  any  type  of  show  and  currently  he  is  heard  on 
WFIL  on  his  own  disc-jockey  program,  Here's  Howard. 

That's  Howard  "Farmer"  Jones'  answer  to  anybody  who 
says  the  farmer  has  a  one-track  mind. 


LIFE  CAN 
BE  BEAUTIFUL 

EVERY  BIT  OF  FAITH 

Radio   Mirror's  Prize   Letter 

Dear  Papa  David: 

Ten  years  ago  I  was  with  my  seven- 
teen-year-old sister  when  she  brought 
into  the  world  her  sickly,  illegitimate 
daughter.  My  mother,  who  was  a  widow 
with  ten  children,  was  very  poor  but 
extremely  proud.  The  shame  she  felt 
because  of  her  poverty  made  her  unable 
to  cope  with  the  disgrace  her  daughter 
would  bring  into  her  home  and,  as  has 
happened  too  often  in  the  past,  this  girl, 
little  more  than  a  child  herself,  was  sent 
away  from  home  to  shift  for  herself 
when  her  condition  became  known. 

I  was  only  nineteen  at  the  time,  but 
worked  in  a  drug  store  in  the  large  city 
to  which  my  sister  came  in  her  distress. 
Like  two  children,  we  pleaded  her  way 
into  a  charity  hospital  where  she  could 
await  the  birth  of  her  baby.  Knowing 
how  alone  and  forlorn  she  felt,  I  spent 
much  of  my  spare  time  visiting  her — 
bringing  her  small  gifts. 

After  the  birth  of  the  child  she  ob- 
tained a  job  but  was  barely  able  to  earn 
enough  to  pay  the  baby's  board. 

In  the  interim,  I  had  gotten  married. 
When  I  told  my  husband  about  the 
child,  he  actually  suggested  what  I 
dared  not  ask — that  we  take  it  in.  This 
we  did,  and  we  welcomed  my  sister  as 
well,  when  her  health  finally  broke.  We 
fought  long  and  hard  for  the  welfare  of 
these  two  pathetic  outcasts  and  the  baby 
developed  one  thing  after  another. 

When  my  sister  recovered,  my  hus- 
band and  I  borrowed  money  so  that  she 
could  go  to  another  city  where  she  had 
a  chance  to  obtain  a  worthwhile  job. 

We  kept  the  baby  and  she  left.  Every 
bit  of  faith  we  had  in  her  was  justified. 
The  girl  everyone  said  was  no  good  and 
would  never  amount  to  anything  has 
worked  hard  and  has  advanced.  Today 
she  is  the  head  of  a  large  department  in 
the  place  where  she  is  employed.  Just 
recently  she  married  a  fine  man  and 
plans  soon  to  take  the  child. 

For  a  long  time  my  family's  wrath 
followed  me  because  I  had  dared  to 
openly  admit  this  child,  but  I  did 
not  care.  Now  that  everything  is  work- 
ing out  so  wonderfully,  our  faith  in  her 
has  been  justified  and  both  mother  and 
child  are  objects  of  pride  in  the  eyes 
of  everyone. 

Mrs.  H.  M.  K. 


With  this  month's  column.  Radio  Mirror 
closes  the  Life  Can  Be  Beautiful  series  which 
has  been  a  stimulating  experience  for  the 
editors  as  well  as  (if  we  can  judge  from  your 
letters)  for  our  readers.  We  hope  that  you 
will  transfer  your  enthusiasm— and  your 
letters — to  the  new  write-in  department 
which  we're  'proudly  launching,  wherein 
your  problems  on  marriage,  both  grave  and 
(we  hope)  gay,  will  be  answered  by  one  of 
your  most  beloved  radio  characters:  Joan 
Davis,  heroine  of  When  A  Girl  Marries.  So— 
if  you  have  a  pre-  or  post-marital  problem, 
write  to  .loan  Davis  about  it,  won't  you? 


TZWIi^  -HA  smile  wins 
six  offers  from  Hollywood ! 


Dorothy    Hart,   Universal  -  International  Starlet, 

blazed  onto  the  Hollywood  scene  as  the  winner  of  a 
country-wide  beauty  contest.  Then  she  spurned  the 
prize  — a  movie  contract— to  become  a  cover  girl. 

After  Dorothy's  winning  smile  appeared  on  the 
covers  of  eight  leading  magazines  in  rapid  succession, 
the  movies  beckoned  again.  This  time  Dorothy  couldn't 
say  "no"  to  all  six  tempting  offers  she  received.  She 
is  on  the  threshold  of  stardom  now  .  .  .  and  taking 
care  to  keep  the  sparkle  in  her  famous  smile.  "It's  a 
Pepsodent  Smile,'  Dorothy  says,  "I  know  from  ex- 
perience, Pepsodent  brightens  my  teeth  best ! " 

•<-  Scene  from  Dorothy  Hart's  latest  picture, 
THE  COUNTESS  OF  MONTE  CRISTO, 

a  Universal-International  Release. 


The  smile  that  wins 
is  the  Pepsodent  Smile ! 


Dorothy  Hart  knows  it.  And  people  all  over 
America  agree  —the  smile  that  wins  is  the  Pepso- 
dent Smile!  Pepsodent  removes  the  film  that 
makes  teeth  look  dull— uncovers  new  bright- 
ness  in  smiles! 

Wins  3  to  1  over  any  other  tooth  paste 

Families  from  coast  to  coast  compared  delicious 
New  Pepsodent  with  the  tooth  paste  they  were 
using.  By  an  average  of  3  to  1,  they  said  Pep- 
sodent tastes  better,  makes  breath  cleaner  and 
teeth  brighter  than  any  other  tooth  paste  they 
tried.  For  the  safety  of  your  smile  use  Pepsodent 
twice  a  day  —  see  your  dentist   twice   a  year ! 


ANOTHER  FINE  LEVER  BROTHERS   PRODUCT 


13 


H. 


g^ 


LATEB-Thanks  to  Colgate  Dental  Cream 


Always  use 
COLGATE  DENTAL  CREAM 
after  you  eat  and  before  every  date 


REACH  FOR  A  CROWN 


Care- 


Pat    Ryan,   of   True    Detective   Mysteries,   has    gained   her    crown. 

ful     hair-tending     has     given    her    a    top-knot     that     gleams    like     gold. 


By  Mary  Jane  Fulton 


WHEN  asked  what  it  felt  like  to  be  so  pretty,  Pat  Ryan,  Mutual's  True 
Detective  Mysteries  player,  flashed  a  pleased  smile,  and  apparently 
didn't  know  what  to  answer.  So  it's  still  a  mystery  as  to  what  it  feels 
like  to  be  as  dainty  and  lovely  as  a  fairy  story  princess. 

One  of  the  most  striking  things  about  Pat  is  her  gorgeous,  naturally 
blonde  hair.  Occasionally  she  gives  it  a  platinum  rinse  to  emphasize  the 
highlights,  or  an  egg  shampoo  to  make  it  extra  soft  and  glossy.  Here's  how 
she  gives  the  egg  shampoo. 

She  washes  her  hair  first  with  one  of  the  good  cream  or  liquid  shampoos 
on  the  market.  She  scrubs  around  her  hairline,  where  powder  and  make-up 
are  apt  to  cake,  with  a  small  brush,  such  as  a  toothbrush,  which  she  keeps 
for  the  purpose.  After  rinsing  the  suds  out  thoroughly,  she  shampoos  and 
rinses  again.  Now  she  takes  the  white  of  one  egg,  which  has  been  separated 
from  the  yolk,  and  pours  it  on  her  hair.  She  massages  the  egg  white  into 
a  lather,  adding  lukewarm  water  a  little  at  a  time.  Too  hot  water  is  apt 
to  cook  the  egg.  She  rinses  with  lukewarm  water,  and  finishes  with  a  cold 
rinse.    Incidentally,  an  egg  shampoo  is  good  for  any  color  of  hair. 

Pat  likes  to  towel  her  hair  almost  dry  with  a  clean  Turkish  towel.  She 
allows  extra  time  to  do  so.   But  if  you're  in  a  hurry,  use  a  hand  dryer. 

While  her  hair  is  still  slightly  damp,  she  sets  it,  and  then  puts  a  net  over 
it  until  it's  completely  dry.  She  suggests  that  you  might  find  a  wave- 
setting  lotion  more  helpful  than  plain  water  in  setting  yours.  And  if  your 
hair  is  a  bit  unmanageable  when  you  attempt  to  comb  it  into  a  lovely 
coiffure,  try  using  a  cream  hair  dressing,  or  hair  pomade,  according  to  the 
directions  which  come  with  it. 

Fortunately,  Pat  is  not  troubled  with  dandruff.  She  claims  it's  because 
she  keeps  her  hair  and  scalp  clean.  If  you  have  dandruff,  it  can  be  defeated! 
If  dandruff  riddance  treatments  don't  show  improvement  within  a  short 
time,  consult  a  doctor,  or  a  reliable  scalp  specialist. 

Pat  also  believes  that  daily  brushing  of  her  hair  is  another  reason  for  its' 
being  in  such  good  condition.  Many  times  she  is  tired  in  the  evenings,  and 
likes  to  slip  into  a  pretty  negligee,  relax  on  her  living  room  couch,  and  read. 
Every  so  often  she  pauses  in  her  reading,  and  leans  her  head  way  back 
over  the  end  of  the  couch,  so  that  the  blood  rushes  into  her  head,  and  her 
hair  falls  with  gravity.  Then  she  brushes  her  hair  with  a  clean,  stiff -bristled 
brush.  She  lets  the  bristles  tug  at  the  roots  so  that  her  scalp  circulation  is 
stimulated.  Or  she  lies  across  her  bed,  head  hanging  down,  and  brushes. 

She  always  uses  a  clean  brush.  This  removes  the  danger  of  dirt  from 
previous  use  being  returned  to  her  hair.  Don't  be  afraid  that  brushing  will 
spoil  your  waves  and  curls.  On  the  contrary,  Pat  says,  if  you  have  a 
permanent  wave,  brushing  will  set  the  waves  deeper,  and  give  curls  more 
spring.    For  a  final,  glamorous  touch,  spray  on  a  hair  perfume. 


RADIO    MIRROR    for    BETTER    LIVING 


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NAME 

R 

ADDRESS „ 

TOWN STATE,.,....  ^r, 

2-20-22  ^ 


Budd  Tesch  announces  many  local  shows,  including  the  back-home 
series  of  tenor  William  McGrath,  r.,  now  studying  in  New  York. 

--    i/'A 


BUDD  TESCH,  who  broke  into  radio  by  plugging  away 
in  night  school  classes,  is  working  just  as  hard  to 
make  a  success  in  television. 

Budd  emcees  the  Barbershop  Quartet  program  on 
WBEN  and  WBEN-TV.  Budd's  ambition  is  to  put  the 
harmony  singers  on  the  network  when  the  International 
Parade  of  the  SPEBSQSA,  Inc.,  is  held  in  Buffalo  in  1949. 

Budd  (whose  real  name,  which  he  detests,  is  John) 
lives  and  breathes  radio  and  couldn't  get  away  from  it 
even  on  his  honeymoon.  It  was  a  natural  tie-up  when 
Tesch  and  his  bride,  the  former  Shirley  Snyder,  ap- 
peared on  NBC's  Honeymoon  in  New  York  show  shortly 
after  they  were  married,  March  12,  1948. 

Valuable  prizes  cascaded  upon  them  as  a  result  of 
that  radio  appearance.  Among  other  gifts,  there  were 
a  toaster,  an  iron,  a  lamp  and  a  set  of  silver. 

Budd  looks  like  a  football  player  (he's  6'2"  and  admits 
to  a  mere  230  lbs.)  and  he  was.  While  in  Rochester,  he 
played  semi-professional  football  and  basketball,  but 
since  marriage  photography  has  been  his  hobby. 

Budd  broke  into  radio  by  going  to  night  school  classes 
at  WHEC,  Rochester.  He  worked  for  five  years  at  the 
Eastman  Kodak  Company  during  the  day  and  was  em- 
ployed at  WSAY  at  night. 

Uncle  Sam  called  him  in  December,  1942,  and  during 
his  brief  Army  career,  he  was  stationed  at  the  Photog- 
raphy School  at  Lowry  Field,  Denver,  Colorado.  He  used 
his  radio  experience  to  good  advantage  while  in  the 
Army  by  emceeing  for  the  Red  Cross  Hospital  Service. 
He  had  a  close  brush  with  death  while  in  the  service, 
contracting  spinal  meningitis  and  spotted  fever  at  the 
same  time.  He  lived  through  this  ordeal  but  sustained 
a  knee  injury  which  eventually  led  to   his  discharge. 

He  liked  the  West  and,  after  leaving  the  Army,  lived 
a  year  on  the  Pacific  Coast.  Later,  Budd  returned  to  his 
native  Rochester,  and  worked  as  an  announcer  at  WSAY 
and  WHAM  before  coming  to  WBEN. 

About  television,  Budd  says,  "I've  still  got  a  lot  to 
learn.  Like  many  others,  I  have  trouble  learning  lines." 
On  his  WBEN-TV  Barbershop  show,  Budd  hangs  a  large 
sign  on  the  turret  of  the  TV  camera  with  the  titles  of 
songs  and  the  names  of  the  members  of  the  quartet.  But 
the  commercials  he  learns  by  heart. 


Even  on  his  honey- 
moon, Budd  couldn't 
get  away  from  radio. 
He  and  Shirley  were 
guests  on  Honeymoon 
in  N.  Y.  Left:  Budd 
emcees  the  Barber- 
shop Quartet;  nom- 
inates the  Buffalo 
Bills — Vernon  Reed, 
Al    Shea,    Hersch 
Smith,  Bill  SpaU' 
genburg — for  next 
international 
champs. 


Rettu    flortit 


•^ 


Betty      North:      Joke-expert 
for     Can     You     Top     This? 


BETTY  NORTH  still  has  a  sense  of 
^  humor.  This  is  no  small  achieve- 
ment when  you  consider  the  fact 
that  her  job  requires  her  to  read  over 
3,500  jokes  every  week. 

Miss  North  is  the  lady  who  reads, 
sorts  and  culls  the  jokes  that  are  sent 
in  by  listeners  to  stump  the  gagsters  on 
Can  You  Top  This?  (Wed.,  8:00  P.M. 
EST.  on  MBS  stations) . 

Middle-aged  and  generously  propor- 
tioned, Betty  started  her  career  many 
years  ago  in  vaudeville.  She  was  the 
North  member  of  the  comedy-singing 
team,  North  and  Keller,  for  twenty 
years.  And,  in  the  course  of  those 
twenty  years,  Betty  had  a  chance  to 
hear  and  learn  pretty  nearly  every  joke 
that  had  ever  been  invented  and  rein- 
vented. 

Miss  North  works  in  a  tiny  office  on 
West  44th  Street,  not  a  stone's  throw 
from  the  famous  Lambs'  Club.  She  gets 
a  big  kick  out  of  her  job  although  over 
99  percent  of  the  gags  she  reads  are 
ancient.  One  third  of  the  jokes  sent  in 
are  "repeats." 

Betty  has  a  separate  cabinet  set  aside 
for  four  special  categories  of  jokes — 
the  "Hah's,"  meaning  the  good  and 
usable  gags,  which  she  claims  are  about 
two  out  of  every  350  submitted;  the 
"Not  So  Hah's"  for  not  quite  such  funny 
jokes;  the  "Oohs"  for  the  really  bad 
ones;  and  the  "Hmmm's"  for  the  risque 
tales.  These  last  are  sent  in  to  her  by 
gentlemen  who  know  they  can't  be  used 
on  the  air  but  think  Betty  will  be 
amused. 

Miss  North  is  fussy  about  what  she 
submits  to  the  program.  Subjects  she 
will  not  tolerate  for  humorous  stories 
are  death,  religion,  race,  deformities, 
stuttering.  Aside  from  these  taboos,  her 
standards  are  fairly  simple.  Often,  she 
will  send  over  to  the  broadcast  jokes 
which  she  herself  doesn't  think  are 
very  funny,  but  which  her  vast  ex- 
perience has  taught  her  will  go  over 
with  an  audience.  They  have  to  be  fast 
jokes.  They  can  be  old  jokes.  But  they 
must  be  what  she  calls  "talking  stories" 
that  don't  require  anything  visual  to 
put  them  across. 

Betty  doesn't  have  to  read  a  whole 
joke.  In  the  majority  of  cases,  she  just 
looks  at  the  first  line  and  knows  im- 
mediately if  it  has  been  sent  in  before. 

Since  she  leads  a  normal  life,  her 
friends  are  always  telling  her  jokes.  No 
one  has  ever  told  Betty  a  joke  she 
hadn't  heard  or  read  before.  But  Betty 
has  a  humorist's  streak  of  kindness.  She 
has  yet  to  stop  anyone  before  he  gets 
to  the  kick  line. 


TAeHittDaeofCtfylt, 


— you're  not  ready  for  an 
adult  size  yet.  .  .  .  And 
mother  knows  it's  the 
same  in  aspirin  —  you'.ire 
not  ready  for  a  5-grain 
adult  size  tablet  be? 
cause  it  doesn't  fit  your 
special  dosage  needs. 


here's  the  aspirin  tablet 
i^f^TUa^\Q\m  child's  needs 


IT'S  ST.  JOSEPH  ASPIRIN 
FOR  CHILDREN!  Ap- 
proved by  mothers  everywhere 
because  it  solves  child  dosage 
problems  and  eliminates  all 
guessw^ork  about  correct  dos- 
age. Rasy  To  Give  because  it's 
not  necessary  to  cut  or  break 
tablets.  Assures  Accurate  Dos- 
age because  each  tablet  con- 
tains IVi  grains  of  aspirin—  Vi 
the  regular  5 -grain  adult  tab- 
let. Easy  To  Take  because  it's 
orange  flavored  and  sw^eetened 
to  a  child's  taste.  Bottle  of  50 
tablets,  35  c. 


Be  sure  to  always  ask  for  the  original 
and  genuine  St.  Joseph  Aspirin  For 
Children  because  there  is  no  other 
product  just  like  it'    Buy  it  now! 


4   *<     , 


*«liU^f 


ST.JOSEPH 
*  ASPIRIN* 
FOR  CHILDREN 


Made  by  the  Makers  of 

St.  Joseph  Aspirin 

World's  Largest  Seller  at  10c 


R 
M 

17 


Picture  yourself  with 

a  Lovelier  Skin  with  your 

First  Cake  of  Camay! 


MRS.   LAWRENCE   H.   BUKCHETIE 

the  former  Barbara  Alexandra  Gubin  of  Yonkers,  N.  Y. 

bridal  portrait  painted  ^'i /Iv-^r r?;*"^ 


"x  -  j^y  ■j^'*^' 


A  lovely  skin  is  the  beginning  of  charm!  And 
you  can  win  a  smoother,  softer  slcin  with  your 

first  cake  of  Camay!  Do  this!  Give  up  careless 
cleansing . . .  begin  the  Camay  Mild-Soap  Diet. 
Doctors  tested  Camay's  beauty  promise 

on  scores  of  women.  In  nearly  every 
case  their  complexions  improved  with  just 
one  cake  of  Camay!  The  directions 
on  the  wrapper  tell  you  how  to  be  lovelier! 


MatT  MR.  AND  MRS.  BURCHETTE! 

Barbara  dances  the  highland  fling  to  the 
music  of  Larry's  harmonica!  And  Barbara 
thanks  Camay  for  her  fair  (and  indescrib- 
ably lovely)  skin.  "My  first  cake  made 
my  skin  clearer  and  smoother,"  says  she. 


// 


THE    SOAP    OF    BEAUTIFUL    WOMEN 


Both  tail  and  active,  the  Burchettes  are  a 
tough  team  to  beat  at  mixed  doubles,  and 
Barbara's  expert  at  beauty  as  well  as  ten- 
nis. Heed  her  advice.  "Go  on  the  Camay 
Mild-Soap  Diet  for  a  really  lovelier  skin!" 


Step  up  and  ask  your  questions — we'll  try  to  find  the  answers. 


A  LETTER  WON'T  HELP 

Dear  Editor: 

How  can  one  get  the  Stop  The  Music 
show  to  call  them?  It  seems  they  never 
call  anyone  in  Philadelphia.  Do  you  think 
a  letter  written  to  the  network  will  help? 

Mrs.  A.  M.  B. 
Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Certainly  not.  The  telephone  numbers  of 
the  people  called  on  Stop  The  Music  are 
picked  purely  by  chance.  And  the  odds  are 
20,000,000  to  one  against  your  telephone 
number  being  picked.  The  procedure  in- 
volved is  as  follows:  a  guest  celebrity  is 
blindfolded,  and  picks  from  a  fish  bowl 
about  20  white  discs  correspondingly  num- 
bered to  telephone  directories  from  all  parts 
of  the  country,  including,  of  course,  your 
Philadelphia.  The  members  of  ABC's  pro- 
duction staff  are  then  blindfolded  and  pick. 
first  a  series  of  blue  discs  which  give  the 
page  numbers  of  the  directories,  then  red 
ones  which  give  the  number,  down  the 
column,  of  the  names  to  be  called.  An 
arrow  is  spun  to  determine  the  column  of 
the  page.  When  all  this  is  completed,  and 
the  actual  names  are  selected  and  written 
down  on  cards,  the  show  is  ready  to  begin. 

JOSEF  MARAIS 
&  MIRANDA 

Dear  Editor: 

Could  you  give 
me  any  information 
about  the  singers  on 
Meredith  Willson's 
show?  They're  Jo- 
sef Marais  and  Mi- 
randa. They  are  the 
most  unusual  sing- 
ers I  have  heard  in 
years.  Are  they  married?  Where  are  they 
from?     What  do  they  look  like? 

Mrs.  E.  G. 
Greensburg,  Pa. 

Josef  Marais  and  Miranda,  who  are  fa- 
mous for  their  renditions  of  authentic 
South  African  veldt  songs  as  well  as  songs 
of  other  nations,  are  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Marais. 
Josef  was  born  on  the  Karoo  Plateau  in 
South  Africa,  and  Miranda  was  born  in 
Amsterdam.  They  met  during  the  war  when 
both  were  in  New  York  broadcasting  for 
the  South  African  division  of  the  OWL 
What  do  they  look  like?    See  for  yourself. 

IDENTIFICA- 
TION, PLEASE 

Dear  Editor: 

Is  Marvin  Miller, 
the  announcer  on 
Louella  Parsons' 
Hollywood  News,  the 
same  Marvin  Miller 
who  plays  the  "bad 
men"  roles  in  the 
movies?  Also,  is  the 
Dan  Seymour  of  the 
Aunt  Jenny  show  the  same  one  who  played 
in  "Key  Largo"  and  in  "Johnny  Belinda"? 
Austin  21,  Texas  Miss  G.  C. 


JOSEF  MARAIS 
&  MIRANDA 


MARVIN  MILLER 


You're  right  about  Marvin  Miller — he 
does  play  those  meanie  roles  in  motion 
pictures.  Some  of  his  recent  pictures  are 
''Life  With  Father,"  "Intrigue,"  and  "The 
Corpse  Came  COD."  Besides  his  announc- 
ing fob  on  Louella  Parsons'  program,  he 
does  the  announcing  on  the  Railroad  Hour. 
As  for  Dan  Seymour,  there  are  two  of  them 
— ojie  in  motion  pictures,  the  other  in  radio. 

AUNT  FANNY 

Dear  Editor: 

I  would  like  to 
know  who  Aunt 
Fanny  is  on  the 
Breakfast  Club 
show.  She's  won- 
derful. 

Mrs.  J.  W.  D. 
Greenwood,  S.  C. 

.  „  ,  FRAN  ALLISON 

Aunt   tanny,    the 
only  fictitious   character   on   the  Breakfast 
Club,  is  played  by  pretty  Fran  Allison  who 
has  been  on  the  program  since  1944. 

OFF  THE  AIR 

Dear  Editor: 

We  have  been 
listeners  of  the  quiz 
program  Informa- 
tion Please  for  a 
number  of  years  but 
have  not  been  able 
to  get  same  since  the 
Fall  season  started. 
Will  you  kindly  ad- 
vise us  if  this  pro- 
gram is  still  on  the  air,  and  if  so,  when 
does  it  come  on  and  on  what  network? 

Mr.  J.  A.  R. 
Columbia,  S.  C. 

Information  Please  did  not  return  to  the 
air  this  season,  and  according  to  CBS, 
there  are  no  definite  plans  in  the  offing  for 
returning  to  the  air.  Pictured  here  is 
Franklin  P.  Adams,  who  was  one  of  the 
regular  members  of  the  panel. 

ARLENE 
FRANCIS 

Dear  Editor: 

I  would  like  some 
information  concern- 
ing Arlene  Francis, 
the  mistress  of  cere- 
monies on  What's 
My  Name?  Wasn't 
she  in  a  motion  pic- 
ture some  years  ago  ? 

Mrs.  M.  M.     - 
Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 

Yes.  The  picture  was  "Murders  In  The 
Rue  Morgue"  with  Bela  Lugusi. 


FRANKLIN  I'. 
ADAMS 


ARLENE  FRANCIS 


FOR  YOUR  INFORMATION— If  there's 
something  you  want  to  know  about  radio, 
write  to  Information  Booth,  Radio  Mir- 
ror, 205  E.  42nd  St.,  N.  Y.  We'll  answer  in  In- 
formation Booth  or  by  mail.  Be  sure  to  sign 
name  and  address,  and  attach  this  box  to 
your  letter. 


Instantly.,. 

make  YOUR  lips 
more  thrilling! 


Easy  to  Use 

New  Beautiful  Color  for  Lips 
Can't  Rub  Off! 

Here's  the  most  important  charm  discovery 
since  the  beginning  of  beauty.  A  'lipstick/ 
at  last,  that  actually  can't  smear — that 
really  won't  rub  off — and  that  will  keep 
your  lips  satin  smooth  and  lovely.  It  Isn't 
a  lipstick  at  all.  It's    a  lush  liquid  in  the 
most  romantic  shades  everj 
And  It  Is   so  permanent. 
Put  it  on  at  dusk 
— it  stays  till  dawn  or 
longer.  You  can  use  it 
to  prevent  cream  lip- 
stick from  smearing, 
too.  Just  brush  on  a 
coat  of  Liquid  LIptone  ■'' 
after   lipstick.    You'll 
love  it. 

And    CHEEKTONE   .  .   . 

Koses  In  your  cheeks 
without  rougel  A  "miracle" 
preparation.  The  effect  Is 
absolutely  natural  and 
lovely.  Lasts  all  day. 


SEND  COUPON  for  generous  Trial  Sizes 

PRINCESS  PAT  Dept.  9122 

2709  S.   Wells  St.,   Chicago  16,  111. 

Send  Trial  Sizes.  I  enclose  12c  (2c  Fed.  Tax)  for  each 

as  checked: 

n  Medium — Natural  true  red — very  flattering. 

□  Gypsy — Vibrant  deep  red — ravishing. 

□  Regal — Glamorous  rich  burgundy. 

n  Orchid — Exotic  pink — romantic  for  evening. 

□  English  Tint — Inviting  coral-pink. 

n  Clear  (colorless) — Use  over  lipstick,  smearproofs 
D  CHEEKTONE— "Magic"  natural  color. 


Name   (print) 

Address 

City 


-Stato- 


19 


0«sr  Miss  Brooks  (Eve  Arien),  who'd  rather  talk  about 

love,  jBUSit   stick  to   Englihb:   Sun.,  9:30   P.M.,   CBS. 


Edgar  Bergeo  and  Mary  Livingstone  made  themselves 
sick  on  cotton  candy  at  the  recent  NBC  Fun  Carnival. 


Scri|»'t-comment  from  brother 
Jack  gets  Boh  Hope's  fnll  at- 
tention. Jack  <1.)  is  Bob's 
axjpierienced    right-hand    man. 


BY  THE  TIME  you  read  this  it  is  possible  that 
critics  of  giveaway  shows  will  have  got  a 
thumb  in  the  eye.  It  is  being  buzzed  about 
that  Stop  The  Music,  prime  offender  according  to 
the  critics,  may  be  expanded  from  its  current 
hour  time  to  a  ninety  minute  show  because 
additional  sponsors  want  to  latch  on.  The  way 
these  things  are  going,  we  want  to  know  where 
they'll  end  up — what's  the  ceiling  on  giving? 

*  *         * 

Here's  a  man  with  an  idea  that'll  probably 
have  the  networks  chewing  their  nails.  He's 
James  T.  Healey  of  Albany,  who's  got  a  big  plan 
worked  out  to  establish  a  new  kind  of  network 
for  radio.  He's  president  of  the  newly-formed 
Union  Broadcasting  System,  which,  based  on  the 
parent  station  WOKO  in  Albany,  proposes  to  use 
both  telephone  wire  service  and  tape  recordings 
to  give  network  affiliates  top-notch  programs  at 
minimum  cost.  Healey  expects  to  sell  his  services 
mainly  through  Scotch  sound  tape  recordings, 
which  will  enable  small  stations  which  can't 
afford  affiliation  with  the  major  networks  to  air 
good  programs  at  reasonable  rates.  Tape  record- 
ings cost  only  a  small  fraction  of  what  it  costs 
for  live  programs. 

*  *  * 

Well,  well,  next  summer  promises  to  be  a  little 
different  on  the  air  lanes.  "The  National  Associa- 


By  DALE 


Both   Barljara  Stanwyck  and  Ginger  Kogers  were  on 
hand  to  help  CBS  introduce  its  Family  Hour  of  Stars. 


In  Hallmark  Playhouse's  "Cimarron,"  Irene  Dunne  was 
"Sabra."  James  Hilton  is  host,  Frank  Go.-,^.  annouufer. 


try 


tion  of  Broadcasters  has  gone  on  record  against 
the  practice  of  summer  radio  layoffs  by  sponsors 
because  "it  tends  to  discourage  radio  listening 
in  general  and  is  not  in  the  best  interests"  of 
all-year  advertisers.  Could  it  also  be  that  net- 
works are  getting  tired  of  filling  in  those  spots 
with  low  budget,  cheaper  shows,  or  holding  them 
on  a  sustaining  basis — all  of  which  touches  the 
pocket,  somewhat? 

For  all  of  the  people  who've  lived  under  the 
illusion  that  foreign  radio,  like  BBC  in  England, 
for  instance,  is  radically  different  from  the  U.  S. 
brand  in  program.ming,  here's  a  bit  of  news. 
Recently,  Daphne  Padel,  English  actress  here  on 
a  visit,  revealed  that  BBC  has  a  program  called 
Ignorance  is  Bliss,  which  is  nothing  but  the 
Anglicized  version  of  our  own  It  Pays  to  Be 
Ignorant. 

*         *         * 

NBC  and  hije  Magazine  are  teaming  together 
in  a  pact  calling  for  joint  video  production  of 
shows  during  the  coming  year,  with  l^ije  picking 
up  the  tab.  The  shows  will  be  along  documentary 
lines  and  will  feature  special  events. 

*  if:  « 

Don  Bernard,  producer  of  Screen  Guild  Players, 
speaks  up  for  radio  actors.  He  says  that  not  enough 
people    give    enough    praise    to    the    regular    bit 


BANKS 


Dick  Powell  haid  an  eager 
"Yes!"  when  inxited  lo 
appear  oa  Dorothy  La- 
mour's  Thursday  ni  ght  pro- 
gram, -9:30  EST  on  NBC. 


R 

M 

21 


u 


eMAHION  flUTTON 

TauAt  me  or^eLt 


esson 


I  never  used  to  be  popular.. . 

'Til  one  lucky  night  I  turned  a  page 
and  read:  "  'Men  are  romantics  at 
heart',  says  Marion  Hutton.  'They 
like  a  girl  to  be  so-o  feminine  ...  to 
have  the  softest,  pampered-looking 
hands.'  Marion  advises:  'Use  Jergens 
Lotion  on  your  hands  —  I  do.'" 

Right  then,  I  started  using  Jergens  too! 


Not  long  after  I  started  going  out!  First 
vs'ith  Paul,  then  Cy,  now  I've  got  several 
beaux.  Men  reaUy  do  choose  the  girl  with 
the  softest,  loveHest  hands! 

See  how  much  softer  your  hands  cau  be 
with  today's  richer  Jergens  Lotion!  Because 
it's  a  liquid,  Jergens  quickly  furnishes  the 
softening  moisture  thirsty  skin  needs.  Yet 
never  leaves  that  sticky  feeling.  StiU  only 
10(/'  to  $1.00  plus  tax. 


Hollywood  Stars  Use 
Jergens  Lotion  7  to  1  Over 
Any  Other  Hand  Care 


R 

IVI 

22 


Contains  gentroub  samples  of  Jergens  Lotion, 

Powder,  Face  Cream  and  Dryad  Deodorant.  Send  lOji  to 

cover  handling  and  postage  to  The  Andrew  Jergens  Co., 

Box  6,  Dept.  55-A.  Cincinnati  14.  Ohio. 

Sorry,  offer  good  in  U.S.A.  only,  expires  Dec.  31,  1949. 


WHAT'S  NEW   from 

COAST  to  COAST 

(Continued  from  page  21) 

players  who  appear  on  the  show.  He 
says  players  like  Wally  Maher,  Frank 
Nelson,  Jane  Morgan,  Louise  Arthur 
and  others  who  work  regularly  on  the 
show  are  experienced  and  competent 
and  their  ability  gives  the  broadcasts  a 
well  rounded  balance,  although  they  al- 
most never  get  any  air  credit. 

*  *         * 

All  show  business,  with  radio  carry- 
ing the  major  part  of  the  load,  is  co- 
operating with  the  New  York  City  De- 
partment of  Health  in  its  all  out  drive 
against  venereal  disease.  The  four  net- 
work stations,  as  well  as  the  thirteen 
independent  stations,  have  agreed  to 
air  shows  on  the  subject. 

*  *         * 

Jack  Douglas,  who's  been  writing 
material  for  top  comics  for  years,  has 
now  been  bitten  with  the  bug  to  write 
for  himself.  He's  trying  out  his  stuff  at 
Hollywood  benefits. 

*  m  * 

Johnny  Long  writes  that  on  a  one- 
nighter  in  Manteo,  N.C.,  he  discovered! 
what  he  thinks  to  be  the  only  shoe-] 
checking   concession   in   the   world,   at] 
least  in  connection  with  a  dance  hall — | 
Johnny  has  never  played  an .  Oriental 
Temple  or  Mosque.  Patrons  at  Manteo's 
Nag's  Head  Casino,  Johnny  reports,  not 
only  have  the  customary  hat  checking 
booth,  but  another  checkroom  is  avail 
able  so  you  can  get  rid  of  those  cum- 
bersome   clod-hoppers    and    dance    in 
your  bare  feet! 

*  *         * 

Whenever  hepsters  spot  the  name 
George  Spelvin  on  a  theater  program, 
they  start  watching  the  actors  to  see 
which  one  is  playing  two  parts.  George 
Spelvin  is  theater's  John  Doe  name.  So, 
when  it  came  to  our  attention  that  Dr. 
Watson  on  the  Sherlock  Holmes  series 
was  played  by  George  Spelvin,  we 
asked  some  questions.  It  turns  out  that 
George  Spelvin,  in  this  instance,  is  not 
doubling  in  parts,  at  all.  His  real  name 
is  Wendell  Holmes — and  he  took  the 
Spelvin  moniker  for  this  show  to  avoid 
any  confusion  with  the   name   of  the 

title  role. 

*  *         * 

Our  hat's  off  to  Samuel  J.  Schaunbam 
of  Jersey  City,  N.  J.,  who  recently 
cracked  a  radio  jackpot  for  over  $3,000 
worth  of  merchandise  and  donated  all 
of  it  to  the  Damon  Runyon  Memorial 
Cancer  Fund.  It  was  auctioned  off  and 
the  proceeds  were  turned  over  to  the 
charity.  Mr.  Schaunbam's  idea  of  shar- 
ing the  wealth,  especially  the  kind  of 
windfalls  of  wealth  won  these  days  on 
the  giveaways,  could  stand  a  little 
spreading  he  thinks. 

*  *         * 

Arch  Oboler's  back  from  his  African 
trek  with  170,000  feet  of  Scotch  tape 
recordings  of  animal  and  native  sounds. 
And  plenty  of  the  adventurers  and  ex- 
plorers who've"  put  out  books  about 
Africa  are  going  to  be  uncomfortable 
under  the  collar  once  Oboler  starts 
playing  back  the  actual  stuff  he  re- 
corded. 

It  seems  that  in  his  travels  through- 
out Africa,  Oboler  discovered  that  more 
than  ninety  percent  of  the  stories  and 
magazine  articles  written  about  that 
continent  by  American  explorers  are 
pure  bunk,  with  most  of  the  "explora- 
tion" fabricated  in  the  cool  of  a  hotel 
room  in  Nairobi. 


r 


1 


RAVELER  OF  THE  MONTH 


The  story  of  Mrs.  Gertie  De  Lonais  was  one  of  grief,  loneliness,  and  untiring  search. 
But  it  came  to  an  ending  so  happy  that  she  has  forgotten  those  long  years  of  tragedy. 


TOMMY 


A  MOTHER  who  had  lost  her  baby  boys 
twenty-three  years  ago  and  was 
finally  reunited  with  them — that's  the 
wonderful  story  which  makes  Mrs.  Gertie 
De  Lonais,  of  Pawhuska,  Oklahoma,  our 
traveler  of  the  month. 

It's  a  story  with  the  happiest  of  happy 
endings,  but,  earlier,  it's  also  a  story  of 
grief,  loneliness  and  an  endless,  unpromis- 
ing search.  When  Mrs.  De  Lonais  told 
that  story  before  our  ABC  microphone  at 
our  Welcome  Travelers  party  at  the  Col- 
lege Inn  of  the  Hotel  Sherman  in  Chicago, 
many  a  mother  in  that  room  quietly 
touched  a  handkerchief  to  her  eyes. 

Twenty-three  years  ago,  Mrs.  De  Lonais 
(she  used  her  first  husband's  name  then) 
was  a  young  married  woman  in  Helena, 
Oklahoma.  She  had  two  handsome  little 
sons,  Roy,  4,  and  Coy,  2.  She  was  pretty 
and  young,  and  so  was  the  world. 

Then,  her  marriage  broke  up.  Suddenly, 
she  was  alone  with  the  boys,  with  no  way 
to  support  them.  As  she  had  no  particular 
skills,  this  meant  hard  work,  at  low  pay. 


She  struggled  along  as  best  she  could,  but, 
as  she  told  me: 

"The  boys  weren't  getting  enough  to  eat, 
and  I  couldn't  be  around  to  take  care  of 
them  properly.  I  thought  I'd  put  them  in 
an  orphanage  in  Helena  for  a  little  while, 
then  come  back  to  them.  It  seemed  so 
simple  at  the  time.  I'd  be  unhappy  for  a 
few  months,  but  soon  I'd  be  with  my  boys, 
forever." 

So  often,  we've  learned  at  Welcome 
Travelers,  life's  tragedies  begin  in  just  this 
casual  way.  The  young  mother  went  away 
for  four  months,  working  in  restaurants 
and  saving  her  pay.  Then  she  returned  to 
claim  her  boys.   But: 

"When  I  got  there,  the  world  sort  of  fell 
apart  for  me.  I  was  told  that  my  babies 
had  been  given  out  for  adoption.  I  de- 
manded that  they  give  me  the  names  of  the 
families  who  had  taken  them,  so  I  could 
get  the  boys  back.  But  I  was  told  there 
was  a  state  law  which  kept  the  names  of 
the  families  a  secret,  even  from  me." 

There  it  was.    (Continued  on  page  74) 


Welcome  Travelers,  with  M.C.  Tommy  Bartlett  making    friends  with  the  people  who  pass  through  Chicago  on   their  jour- 
neys, is  heard  every  Monday  through  Friday  at  12  Noon,  EST,  over  stations  of  the  American  Broadcasting  Company  network. 


23 


Der  Bingle  dines  out 
with  his  wife,  Dixie. 
Below,  their  all -boy 
family:  Garry  behind 
Philip,  Lindsay,  Denis. 


DID  YOU  ever  see  a  legend  walking?  Well,  I  did — 
at  the  Bel-Air  Golf  Course  in  Beverly  Hills.  The 
legend  vi^as  carrying  a  golf  club.  So  was  I.  But 
we  were  approaching  opposite  holes. 

As  my  path  crossed  that  of  the  legend,  the  legend 
grinned,  waved  his  hand  and  said  as  if  it  was  a 
ritual  we  go  through  every  five  minutes,  "Hullo,  Bob." 

"Hi,  Bing,"  I  said  back  to  him. 

That's  my  brother. 

Bing  spends  so  little  time  in  one  place  that  fre- 
quently our  conversation  consists  of  a  remarkable 
exchange  involving  no  more  than  those  four  words. 
It  has  become  pretty  much  of  a  standing  joke 
between  us. 

Nor  are  those  four  words  to  be  underestimated. 
They're  affection-packed. 

Like  the  relatively  few  others  of  my  countrymen 
so  privileged,  when  I  am  face  to  face  with  my  brother 
I  feel  history  crawling  up  and  down  my  spine, 
warnmg  me  to  make  the  most  of  this  moment  before 
Bing  zings. 


ijl 


k 


24 


June  and  Bob  Crosby 
achieved  a  mixed 
quartet.  L.  to  r.: 
Robert  Jr.,  Cathleen, 
Steven,       Christopher. 


By 

BOB 
CROSBY 


\^ 


m 


1 
1 

1 

Bing  has  to  put  a  premium  on  time.  He's  got  so 
many  things  to  do,  so  many  places  to  go,  so  many 
people  to  please.  If  he  can't  get  understanding  from 
a  brother,  where  else  could  he  turn? 

Even  at  golf,  Bing  never  knows  where  the  next 
time-killing  eventuality  will  come  from.  In  the 
absence  of  his  regular  caddy,  Bing  drew  a  substitute 
at  one  of  the  Hollywood  courses.  Bing  thought  noth- 
ing of  it  until  the  fifth  green  when  he  called  for  an 
iron  and  got  a  song  instead.    A  singing  caddy! 

Bing  grinned,  and  waited  the  caddy's  pleasure. 

At  the  next  hole,  the  caddy  burst  into  song  again. 
Bing  waited  tolerantly  for  him  to  finish,  but  the  boy 
was  just  getting  warmed  up.  • 

"If  you  don't  like  that  one,"  he  told  Bing,  "I've  got 
another  one." 

"Is  it  all  right  if  we  play  golf  between  choruses?" 
Bing  asked. 

From  then  until  the  last  hole,  the  club  bearer 
clammed  up.  At  the  eighteenth  green,  he  pleaded 
with  Bing,  "I  have  one  more  song.  If  you  don't  like  it. 


you  don't  have  to  pay  me."  Bing  held  up  a  hand — he 
wanted  to  know  just  one  thing:  "How  long  will 
it  last?" 

If  he  wasn't  in  a  hurry,  he  just  wouldn't  be  Bing. 

I  was  a  kid  at  the  time,  but  I  knew  I  had  a  great 
man  for  a  brother  when  he  was  fresh — and  unknown 
— out  of  Gonzaga,  unable  to  choose  between  law  and 
singing  with  a  band.  Nobody  could  listen  to  the 
family  and  doubt  it. 

I'm  a  big  boy  now,  and  I  can  do  my  own  thinking. 
The  proud  chatter  of  my  folks  no  longer  falls  on 
impressionable  ears.  But  it  doesn't  matter.  Even  if 
I  had  never  been  indoctrinated  as  a  youngster  in 
Spokane,  Washington,  I'd  realize  it  as  every  other 
American  does. 

My  brother  is  a  great  man — and  a  great  guy. 

I  confess  to  one  regret  in  life.  It  is  that  I  was 
born  fourteen  years  after  Bing.  Those  were  fourteen 
years  in  which  I  could  have  had  a  ringside  seat  at 
the  childhood  of  a  cut-up  destined  for  immortality, 
a  troubador  whom  historians  {Continued  on  page  95) 


Bob  Crosby  is  starred  on  Club  15,  7:30  P.M.  EST,  Mon.  through  Fri.,  on  CBS. 


25 


iiy 


THE 


mieh 


It  was  manager  Ritchie  Lisella  (1.)  who  guided  Bill  straight  to 
his  big  moment  with  Godfrey  (r.).  Now  in  the  big  time.  Bill  tries 
it  tune  (below)  with  program-mates  Janette  Davis,  Archie  Bleyer. 


By   BILL   LAWRENCE 


WHEN  Arthur  Godfrey  offered  me  a  chance 
to  stay  with  his  show  for  thirteen  weeks, 
I  was  so  astonished  that  I  just  stood  there 
in  front  of  the  mike  with  my  mouth  open  and 
nothing  coming  out.  I  had  two  good  reasons  to 
be  surprised.  In  the  first  place,  I  had  just  fin- 
ished the  last  of  three  appearances  I  had  won 
through  my  try-out  on  his  Talent  Scouts  Show, 
and  was  ready  to  say  goodbye.  In  the  second 
place,  we  were  still  on  the  air,  and  business  is 
not  usually  done  with  30,000,000  people  lis- 
tening in. 

So  I  just  stood  there,  and  I  guess  the  radio 
audience  took  in  the  news  before  I  did. 

My  mother  was  listening  in  from  East 
St.  Louis,  and  when  she  heard  the  offer  she 
laughed  and  then  she  cried  and  she  was  run- 
ning out  to  tell  the  neighbors  while  I  was  still 
just  gaping  at  Mr.  Godfrey. 

Then  the  studio  audience  started  to  applaud, 
•and  I  realized  that  it  was  the  real  thing  .  .  . 
that  I  was  not  dreaming  of  getting  on  the  big 
time  .  .  .  that  this  was  my  chance  at  last. 

It  still  seems  like  a  dream,  however,  because 
things  have  been  happening  so  fast  ever  since. 
Within  a  week  of  the  time  I  arrived  in  New 
York  on  borrowed  money,  I  had  a  thirteen 
weeks  contract  to  sing  five  mornings  a  week  on 
The  Arthur  Godfrey  Show,  at  what  seems  to 
me  like  an  awful  lot  of  money.  I  was  signed  to 
sing  every  Tuesday  night  on  The  Morey 
Amsterdam  Show,  and  I  had  offers  for  two 
night  club  dates.  There  have  been  wires  and 
letters  of  congratulation  from  friends  and  from 
people  I  never  heard  of,  too.  I  have  fourteen 
fan  clubs  and  Radio  Mirror  has  asked  me  to 
write  my  life  story.  What  more  could  a  guy 
want? 

That  last — the  story — is  almost  the  hardest  to 
handle.  Naturally,  everything  that  has  hap- 
pened in  my  twenty-one  years  is  interesting 
to  me,  but  it  isn't  much  {Continued  on  page  78) 


Bill  Lawrence  ^was  "discovered"  on  Arthur  Godfrey's 
Talent  Scouts,  Mon.,  8:30  P.M.  EST,  CBS.  He  is  heard 
regularly  on  Godfrey's  A.  M.  show,  10:30  EST,  CBS. 


26 


For  a  beginner,  it's  a  long,  hard  road.  Unless — like  Bill — you  bump  into  Arthur  Godfrey  on  the  way. 


By  FRANKIE   REMLEY 


Phil,  one  of  nature's  collectors  (his  silver-mounted  saddles 
are  showpieces),  was  an  easy  convert  to  Alice's  pet  hobby — 
the   accumulation    of    charming,    curious    old    glass    and    china. 


WHEN  Alice  Faye  and  Phil  Harris  were  married,  the 
event  probably  added  ten  years  to  my  life.  It  also 
interrupted  a  pool  game  that  gave  promise  of  setting 
a  world's  record  for  marathon  endurance  and  elapsed 
time. 

These  are  minor  results  of  the  marriage.  There  are 
others  more  important. 

For  example,  there  was  the  iiight,  not  long  ago,  when 
Phil,  brandishing  a  flashlight,  led  me  out  into  his  garden. 
After  some  groping,  he  turned  the  beam  onto  a  small 
biinch  of  leaves. 

'Tuberous  begonia,"  he  announced.  "Grew  it  myself, 
and  it  bloomed  today." 

Tuberous  begonia! '  I  knew  Phil  Harris  when,  before 
he  married  Alice,  he  didn't  know  a  begonia  from  a 
buttonhook. 

He's  the  guy  who  used  to  keep  me  up  till  dawn  play- 
ing pool  after  we'd  finished  our  night's  work  on  the 
bandstand.  I  guess  we  played  pool  in  every  sizable 
town  in  the  country.  He  was  the  chief  exponent  of  the 
theory  that  you  worked  at  night,  had  breakfast  in  the 
evening,  ate  a  midnight  snack  at  8  A.M.  and  went  to 
bed  at  an  hour  when  other  citizens  were  hustling  to 
their  jobs.  When  he  discovered  Alice  Faye  he  also  dis- 
covered daytime,  and  when  Phil  began  going  home  after 


Frankie  Remley:   talkative  guitarist 
on     the     Faye-Harris     Bandwagon. 

work   my   health   improved.     I   got   to   go   home,    too. 

I've  known  Alice  and  Phil  for  a  long  time.  In  fact, 
I  met  Phil  when  he  and  his  band,  elegantly  titled  "The 
Dixie  Syncopators"  came  aboard  the  City  of  Los  Angeles 
to  sail  for  a  Honoltdu  engagement,  more  years  ago  than 
either  of  us  wants  to  remember.  I  was  playing  guitar 
with  the  ship's  orchestra.  Phil,  at  the  time,  had  the 
thickest  Southern  accent  ever  heard  north  of  Mobile. 
I  was  from  the  south  of  North  Dakota  and  I'd  never 
run  into  anything  like  it  before.  We've  been  friends  ever 
since  that,  and  believe  me  when  I  teU  you,  being  a 
friend  of  Alice  and  Phil  is  about  as  lucky  as  you  can 
get.  The  loyalty,  generosity  and  understanding  that  has 
made  their  marriage  happy  in  a  town  where  the  mor- 
tality rate  of  marriages  is  high,  extends  over  to  their 
friends. 

But,  if  I  were  to  teU  you  that  the  Harrises  are  just 
like  the  successful  young  couple  next  door  to  you,  Fd 
be  cheating.  They  are  like  no  one  else  in  the  world.  In 
the  fust  place,  they're  in  show  business,  where,  added 
to  the  other  natural  hazards  of  wedded  bliss,  there  is  the 
danger  of  professional  jealousy. 

Either  they've  never  been  jealous  of  each  other,  or 
they  are  the  best  actors  in  the  world.  I  love  them  both, 
but  I  say  let  Olivier  do  Hamlet.  {Continued  on  pagcl04) 


28 


Alice  Faye  and  Phil  Harris  star  in  the  Bandwagon,  heard  Sunday  nights  at  7:30  EST,  on  NBC. 


a  mses 


Here,  at  last:  a  Hollywood  couple  who  are  not 


just  like  the  folks  next  door.    In 


fact,  one  of  their  best  friends  says 


they're  like  nobody  else  in  the  world 


Phyllis  uses  family  playtime  to 
practice  flirting  with  her  Dad; 
young  Alice  concentrates  on  records. 


By      PAULINE 


A  PROFUSION  of  generalities 
has  been  aired  about  Holly- 
wood in  the  course  of  its 
brief  and  turbulent  history,  and 
one  of  the  most  persistent  ones 
is  that  you  can  make  a  fortune 
in  glamortown,  but  you  can't 
make  a  life. 

And  a  stealy  trek  of  the  dis- 
illusioned away  froni  the  tinsel 
capital  back  to  the  "real"  Amer- 
ica, back  to  places  where  snow 
is  snow  and  not  soapflakes,  and 
where  people  are  people,  not 
reasonable  facsimiles,  has  gone 
on  over  the  years  to  prove  it. 
But   there   have    remained    a 


I 


i 


t 


The  "Lum"  family:  Chester  Lauck,  son  Chester  Jr.,  daughter  Nancy  and  Mrs.  Lauck. 
They  all  like  dining  outdoors  and  all  agree  that  Dad's  a  first-class  barbecue  chef. 


Solid  comfort  and  a  relaxing,  pleasant  atmosphere  —  that 
can  be  said  both  of  the  Laucks'  home  and  of  their  life. 


5J 


S    W    A    N    S    0    N 


few  "plain  folks"  who  dared  liie 
legend  and  defeated  it.  Among 
these  none  have  come  off  with 
a  better  score  than  Chet  Lauck 
and  Norris  Goff — Liim  and  Ab- 
ner,  of  radio. 

Chet  and  "Tuffy"  were  boys 
together  in  Mena,  Arkansas, 
went  to  the  University  of  Ar- 
kansas together,  married  nice 
girls  from  their  own  home  town, 
and — since  1931 — have  been  do- 
ing their  homespun  version  of 
Ozark  Americana  on  the  radio. 

Like  all  the  other  top  liners 
on  the  air,  they  came  to  Holly- 
wood when  the  radio  industry 


The  "Abner"  family:  Tuffy  Goff,  son  Gary,  daughter  Gretchen,  and  Mrs.  Goff.  They 
all  (including  the  Boxer)  like  to  spend  long,  lazy  hours  in  the  patio's  leafy  shade. 


Fieldstone  and  chintz  — 
and  display  room  for 
their  treasures  —  these 
spell  home  to  the  Goffs. 


PAULINE 


A  PROFUSION  of  generalities 
has  been  aired  about  Holly- 
wood in  the  course  of  its 
brief  and  turbulent  history,  and 
one  of  the  most  persistent  ones 
is  that  you  can  make  a  fortune 
in  glamortown,  but  you  can't 
make  a  life. 

And  a  stealy  trek  of  the  dis- 
illusioned away  from  the  tinsel 
capital  back  to  the  "real"  Amer- 
ica, back  to  places  where  snow 
is  snow  and  not  soapflakes,  and 
where  people  are  people,  not 
reasonable  facsimiles,  has  gone 
on  over  the  years  to  prove  it. 
But   there    have    remained    a 


The  "Lum"  family:  Chester  Lauck,  son  Chester  Jr.,  daughter  Nancy  and  Mrs.  Lauck. 
They  all  like  dininp  outdoors  and  all  agree  thai  Dad's  a  first-class  harbecue  chef. 


few  "plain  folks"  who  dared  the 
legend  and  defeated  it.  Among 
these  none  have  come  off  with 
a  better  score  than  Chet  Lauck 
and  Norris  Goff — Lum  and  Ab- 
ner,  of  radio. 

Chet  and  "Tuffy"  were  boys 
together  in  Mena,  Arkansas, 
went  to  the  University  of  Ar- 
kansas together,  married  nice 
girls  from  their  own  home  town, 
and — since  1931 — have  been  do- 
ing their  homespun  version  of 
Ozark  Americana  on  the  radio. 

Like  all  the  other  top  liners 
on  the  air,  they  came  to  Holly- 
wood when  the  radio   industry 


The  "Abner"  family;  Tuffy  Goff,  son  Gary,  daughter  Gretchen,  and  Mrs.  Gofl.  They 
all  (including  the  Boxer)  like  to  spend  long,  lazy  hours  in  the  patio's  leafy  shade. 


Solid' copifort  and  a  relaxing,  pleasant  atmosphere  —  that 
ciin  be  said  both  of  the  Laucks'  home  and  of  their  life. 


Young  Chet  Lauck's  passion  for  privacy  is  no  secret — ^his 
hand-lettered  signs  calling  for  it  are  on  display  (together 
with     his     individualistic     spelling)     all     around     his     room. 


Nancy,  an  art  major,  tries  a  cartoon  of  her  mother  and  dad. 
At  right,  Chet's  gun  collection — ^not  purely  ornamenul,  for 
his    skeet-shooting    trophies    help    decorate    the    living    room. 


a^c^ 


did  in  the  middle  thirties,  and  have  been  here  ever 
since.  And  they  have  made  a  fine  life  for  them- 
selves in  Hollywood — probably  because  they  never 
quite  became  a  part  oi  it. 

Both  of  the  "boys"  are  solid  family  men  now. 
The  Laucks  have  a  married  daughter,  Shirley 
Babcock,  a  teen-age  daughter,  Nancy,  and  a  young 
son,  Chet  Jr.,  who  is  eight.  The  Goffs'  "farm"  in 
Encino  was  built  not  only  to  Tuffy  and  Liz's 
specifications  for  comfort,  but  to  suit  Gary,  who  is 
fidEteen  now,  and  his  sister  Gretchen,  who  is  ten. 

AND  whether  you  visit  the  Gofis  at  their  farm, 
and  sit  in  the  white  wicker  rockers  on  the  front 
porch,  sipping  lemonade  from  the  old  cut-glass 
pitcher,  or  drop  in  on  the  Laucks  at  their  house  in 
Brentwood — a  one  time  Mediterranean  villa  in  the 
"star  stufF'  tradition,  now  invitingly  transformed 
into  gracious  Colonial— you  are  assiu'ed  of  a  wel- 
come which  is  strictly  from  ArkansEis. 

Harriet  Lauck,  who  will  get  around  later  to 
telling  you  that  "I  was  a  city  girl,  I  was  bom  in 
Hot  Springs"  comes  to  the  door  to  meet  you, 
shoving  a  collection  of  friendly  dogs  out  of  your 
path.  She  leads  the  way  through  a  succession  of 
rooms  bright  with  red  £md  green  chintz  and  mel- 
lowed old  pine  to  the  study,  where  you  sit  by  a 
wood  fire  and  look  out  through  a  ceiling-high 
window  across  an  acre  of  clipped  green  grass  pat- 
terned with  the  shadows  of  sycamore  trees. 

Harriet's  right  wrist  is  in  a  splint — she  broke 
it  square-dsmcing! — but  she  made  the  hot  green 
pepper  and  melted  cheese  sandwiches  which  ap- 
pear promptly  on  the  scene,  and  she  manages  with 
her  left  hand  to  pour  the  strong  black  coffee 
which  follows  a  moment  later. 

Chet,  his  ear  glued  to  a  small  portable  radio — 


32 


«ABIIR 


"Twenty  years  in  the  radio  business,"  he  com- 
plains, "and  not  a  decent  radio  in  the  hoxise" — ^is 
listening  to  it  (and  the  conversation),  while  he 
makes  noises  to  the  effect  that  his  southpaw  wife, 
who  is  shuffling  coffee  cups  right  over  his  shoulder, 
is  sure  to  scald  him.  But  he's  not  worried  enough 
to  move  out  of  the  way. 

BOTH  of  the  Laucks  glow  when  you  marvel  at 
the  transformation  they  have  effected  in  the 
once  austere  big  house.  They  trot  out  "before  and 
after"  photographs  to  show  how  green  shutters 
and  simple  white  pillars  replaced  the  former 
Grecian  colunms  and  ornate  grill  work  at  the  front. 
Old  louvred  shutters  imported  from  New  Orleans 
to  masque  two-story-high  stained  glass  windows, 
wood  floors  laid  over  patterned  tile,  and  wall  paper 
over  stucco,  have  made  a  friendly  entrance  hall 
out  of  a  once  coldly  formal  foyer. 

And  at  the  drop  of  a  hint  they  will  conduct 
you  on  a  tour  of  the  whole  place,  including  the 
"real  Eastern  basement"  with  unbelievable — ^for 
California — space  for  laundry,  luggage  room, 
freezer  rooms,  and  a  wine  cellar. 

The  children  may  be  off  at  school  when  you 
call,  but  a  look  at  their  rooms  conjures  up  a 
fairly  accurate  mental  picture. 

The  quarters  reserved  to  yoimg  Chet — ^he  is  be- 
ginning to  rebel  at  his  early  "Little  Chet"  appel- 
lation— ^would  be  inaccessible  to  strangers  if  he 
were  home.    Handmade   (Continued  on  page  76) 


Without  fireplaces — one  in  every  room — and  horses,  the  Goffs 
wouldn't  be  at  home.  Above:  Gary,  Mrs.  Goff,  Tuffy  and 
Gretchen,  who   has   already   triumphed   in  four  horse   shows. 


Liz  QoS.  gets  called  in  to  listen  to  son  Gary's  home-made 
rhythm.  That's  the  way  all  the  Goffs  like  their  fun — 
made,   and   enjoyed,   at   home,   with   the   rest   of    the   family. 


Chester  Lauck  as  Lum,  Norris  CofT  as  Abner,  are  heard  Sunday  nights  at  10,  EST,  on  CBS. 


33 


aitts^ 

^%TSm^ 

mil 

ss 

mmm 

mmm^ 

1 

■-3HIIPP 

»Hff 


z' 


1  Helen  Trent  is  chief  gown  designer  i'or  her  friend,  Jeff  Brady,  who  owns  a  motion  picture  studio  in  Hollywood,  a  career  woman  who 
set  herself  a  goal  and,  through  her  own  talents  and  efforts,  has  achieved  it.  But  Helen  is  more  than  a  successful  and  respected 
figure  in  an  important  industry  —  she  is  also  one  of  the  most  glamorous,  most  sought-after,  most  attractive  women  in  a  city  that  is 
the  mecca  of  glamor  and  beauty.  Here,  in  the  office  where  she  has  created  fashions  which  have  won  her  national  reputation  as  a 
designer  of  distinction,  Helen  pauses  in  the  work  which  gives  her  so  much  pleasure  to  look  back  through  the  years  that  are  past. 


^wimali  tfiiL^W^^  y^ 


TRENT 


The  years  have  brought  to  Helen 
romance,  success    .    .    .    and  heartaches 


3.  Gil  soon  became  the  most  important  man  in  Helen's 
life.  He  lives  in  a  charming  white  house  in  San 
Fernando  Valley,  not  far  from  Hollyivood,  where  he  and 
Helen  have  spent  happy  evenings  listening  to  records 
arid  being  served  by  Buggsy  O'TooIe,  Gil's  houseman. 


J'HEgSfSStiSSJS: 


^smmm 


cr> 


BELEN  TRENT'S  life,  rich  in 
glamor  and  romance,  is  re- 
viewed on  these  pages  in  pic- 
tures which  introduce  you  to 
the  people  you  hear  on  the  air 
in  The  Romance  of  Helen  Trent. 

Helen  Trent  is  played  by . .  Julie  Stevens 

Gil  Whitney David  Gothard 

Cynthia  Carter Mary  Jane  Higby 

Agatha  Anthony Bess  McCammon 

Norman  Hastings Lauren  Gilbert 

Buggsy  O'TooIe Ed  Latimer 

The  Romance  of  Helen  Trent, 
conceived  and  produced  by 
Frank  and  Anne  Hummert,  is 
heard  over  CBS,  Monday  through 
Friday  at  12:30-12:45  P.M.  EST. 


2.  One  night,  Helen,  stranded  in  a  rainstorm  on  Sunset 
Boulevard,  accepted  an  attractive  stranger's  offer  to 
drive  her  home.  Thus  began  her  friendship  with  Gil 
Whitney.  After  a  date  a  few  nights  later,  Helen 
introduced   Gil   to   her   dear   friend   Agatha    Anthony. 


35 


THROUGH  THE  YUM 


4.  During  the  last  war,  Gil  went  overseas  on  a  government 
mission.  Though  Helen  saw  him  off  bravely,  she  was  lonely 
and  worried  until  he  came  back.  Ironically,  after  his 
safe  return  Gil  was  seriously  injured,  in  a  train  wreck. 


5.  Paralyzed  from  the  waist  down,  Gil  switched  from  law 
to  teaching  at  a  small  California  college.  Visiting  him 
there,  Helen  met  Cynthia  Carter,  pretty  teacher  who,  in 
love  with  Gil,  tried  unsuccessfully  to  win  him  from  Helen. 


8.  Shortly  after  Curtis  passed  out  of  her  life,  Helen 
accepted  an  offer  to  work  for  a  London  studio  for  a  few 
months.  On  the  boat  she  met  and  fell  in  love  with  dy- 
namic Norman  Hastings,  a  well-known  author  and  traveler. 


9.  But  Norman's  past  and  personality  made  him  so  unpre- 
dictable that,  by  the  time  Helen  was  back  in  Hollywood, 
he  had  disappeared,  leaving  no  word  for  her.  Heartbroken, 
Helen  needed  all  the  comfort  Agatha  Anthony  could  give. 


36 


WITH  HELEN  TRENT 


6.  Cynthia  finally  married  Dwight  Swanson,  bat  his  death 
soon  left  her  a  wealthy  woman — still  in  love  with  Gil. 
When  Cynthia's  uncle,  a  famous  doctor,  cured  him,  grati- 
tude trapped  Gil  into  a  scene  which  Helen  accidentally  saw. 


7.  Unhappily  remembering  Cynthia  in  Gil's  arms,  Helen  be- 
came attracted  to  Curtis  Bancroft,  co-owner  of  her  studio — 
who  neglected  to  tell  Helen  he  was  married.  Above,  Curtis 
enters  his  fabulous  house  in  Bel  Air,  near  Hollywood. 


5«»iP5K'?>?w.« 


10.  Back  at  her  old  job  at  Jeff  Brady's  studios,  Helen  re- 
gained a  measiure  of  happiness.  Then,  one  day,  Norman 
Hastings  reappeared,  having  flown  thousands  of  miles  to 
reach  Helen.  Fate  was  to  involve  him  deeply  in  her  life  . . . 


11.  Powerful  Montgomery  K.  Hart,  determined  to  groom 
Gil  for  the  governorship,  hired  Norman  as  publicity  man- 
ager. Both  loving  Helen,  Gil  and  Norman  were  forced  into 
friendship,  ^ut  Cynthia  still  plots  to  win  Gil  for  herself. 


37 


Julius  Marx  and  the  author:  how  Julius  became 
"Groucho"  is  a  secret  that  died  with  vaudeville. 


MY  father,  Julius  Marx,  son  of  Minnie  Marx — ^no  rela- 
tion of  Walt  Disney's,  but  forever  Groucho — has  al- 
ways admitted  readily  that  the  first  time  he  saw  me 
was  one  of  the  great  disappointments  of  his  life. 

After  brooding  over  this  for  nearly  twenty  years  I  finally 
got  up  courage  one  day  recently  to  ask  him:  "Why?" 

"Becavise,  at  the  time,  I  had  my  heart  set  on  a  baby 
girl,"  Father  confessed,  "one  about  twenty-three,  with  blue 
eyes  and  a  figure  like  Betty  Grable's.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
I've  still  got  my  heart  set  on  Betty  Grable,  and  as  soon  as 
I  get  around  to  it,  I'm  going  to  start  taking  trumpet  lessons." 

One  of  Father's  favorite  devices  for  making  time  pass 
slowly  is  telling  how  the  first  time  he  saw  me  I  yelled  in  a 
pretty  unappealing  fashion.  I  wonder  if  it's  ever  occurred 
to  him  to  ask  himself  how  I  must  have  felt  the  first  time  I 
saw  that  cigar  and  mustache  looming  over  my  crib.  Though 
my  recollection  of  that  first  meeting  has  dimmed  with  the 
years,  I'd  say  that  under  the  circumstances  my  yelling  was 
perfectly  natural,  and  I  stiU  insist  that  the  disparity  in  our 
ages  made  it  highly  improper  for  Father  to  yell  back. 
Mother  always  said  it  was  just  because  he  couldn't  stand 
for  anyone  else  to  have  the  last  word. 

Anyone  who  has  ever  listened  to  Groucho's  radio  show, 
You  Bet  Your  Life,  broadcast  by  long-suffering  ABC,  will 
probably  agree  with  my  mother  that  fondness  for  the  last 
word  is  indeed  one  of  Father's  more  noticeable  characteris- 
tics. This  tendency  of  his  .to  throw  a  verbal  hammerlock 
on  any  conversation  he  gets  in  range  of  makes  his  show  a 
pretty  expensive  proposition  for  its  sponsors.  They  have  to 
give  away  many  handsome  gifts  and  offer  large  sums  of 
prize  money  to  induce  people   {Continued  on  page  84) 


Melinda,    the    captivating    beginning    of    what 
Groucho  hopes  will  be  a  big  "second  family." 


"When  Groucho  loses  a  game,  it's  his  custom  to  hit  himself   over  the  head  a  few  hundred  times  with  anything  handy. 
That's  why  he  gave  up  tennis  in  favor  of  ping-pong — the  paddle  is  so  much  easier  on  his  head  than  the  racquet  used  to  be. 


GROUCHO 


By  ARTHUR  MARX 


Life   as   the   son   of   Groucho   Marx? 


It's   a  thought  that  staggers  the 


imagination.  It  staggers  the  son,  too 


Groucho,  usually  full  of 
ideas,  o£Eered  just  one 
when  Arthur  became  ca- 
reer-minded. "Play  ten- 
nis," he  said.  "Write. 
But  don't  be  an  actor!" 


Groucho  Marx's  You  Bet  Your 
Life— Wed.,  9:30  P.M.  EST, 
8:30  P.M.  PST,  ABC  stations. 


Wanted,  by  young  radio 
humorist :  a  wife.  Must  be  young, 


strong,  rich,  and  have  sense  of  humor 


By  ROBERT  Q.   LEWIS 

CBS,  Sundays  at  5  P.  M.  EST 


WANTED  .  .  .  WIFE.  By  radio  humorist 
just  over  draft  age.  Girl  must  be  breath- 
ing, anywhere  between  ages  of  twenty 
and  twenty-one.  Should  have  poise, 
charm,  ability,  personality  and  oil  well. 
If  possible  send  picture  of  oil-weU.  Box  Q. 

THAT'S  it!  In  a  nutshell.  .  .  .  That's  the  ad 
I've  been  using  on  my  commercial-less  CBS 

program  for  the  past  couple  of  weeks. 

Am  I  kidding?  No  .  .  .  not  really.  Every 
day,  people  keep  asking  me  why  I'm  still  a 
bachelor.  Actually,  there's  no  good  reason.  I'd 
get  married  in  a  minute  .  .  .  only  nobody's 
asked  me.  And  frankly,  I  don't  enjoy  being 
a  bachelor  at  aU.  I'm  so  dam  helpless  around 
the  hoiise.  Especially  when  I  iron  my  own 
shirts.  I  never  seem  to  know  when  to  turn  the 
iron  off.  And  while  we're  on  that  subject  .  .  . 
does  anybody  know  anybody  who'd  like  to  buy 
some  open-toed  shirts  .  .  .  cheap? 

I'm  not  much  good  at  housecleaning  either. 
I  hate  that  darn  dusting  .  .  .  and  I  look  so  silly 
with  a  red  bandanna  wrapped  arotind  my  nog- 
gin. I'll  never  forget  the  day  I  really  got 
ambitious.  I  scrubbed  the  floors,  massaged  the 
ceUings  and  washed  the  walls.  And  you  know 
something?  I  discovered  two  rooms  I  never 
even  knew  I  had!  So  I've  given  up  thorough 
dusting  ...  I  use  the  old  rug  system  ...  as  a 


matter  of  fact,  in  the  past  six  months  I've  swept 
so  much  dust  vmder  my  carpet  that  I'm  now 
listed  at  the  Soviet  Embassy  as  "Hill  No.  137"! 

A  poor  batch  can  get  so  weary!  Like  the 
other  morning  I  read  in  the  papers  that  "now 
is  the  time  to  clean  out  the  refrigerator."  It 
sounded  logical,  so  I  spent  all  morning  doing 
just  that.  First  the  grapefruit,  then  the  egg- 
plant, then  the  nulk,  then- the  bologna,  then  the 
eggs,  then  the  yogurt  .  .  .  honest,  by  the  time 
I  got  through,  I  thought  I'd  burst.  You  need 
a  wife  to  help  you  out  with  Httle  things  like  that. 

And  gee  ...  if  I  had  a  wife,  I  wouldn't  have 
to  go  through  that  awful  business  of  shopping 
for  my  food.  What  prices!  It's  tough  when  you 
have  to  pay  a  doUar  a  pound  for  meat  ...  of 
course,  I  mtist  admit  that  when  you  pay  only 
forty  cents  a  pound  .  .  .  it's  even  tougher!  But 
meats  aren't  the  only  things  that  are  high.  Like 
the  other  day.  .  .  .  My  bill  from  the  fruit  store 
had  an  extra  charge  of  ten  cents.  For  the  life 
of  me,  I  couldn't  figure  out  what  it  was  for! 
Then  I  remembered  that  on  my  way  out  of  the 
store  I'd  stepped  on  a  grape.   Honest. 

And  some  of  those  clerks  ask  the  dopiest 
questions.  Take  my  butcher  (and  believe  me, 
he's  yours  with  my  blessing).  I  asked  him  for 
a  small  chicken.  .  .  . 

"Tell  me,  Mr.  Lewis,"  he  asked,  "do  you 
wanna  pullet?"  (Continued  on  page  87) 


"I  wouldn't  even  hang 

around  the  house  much. 

I'm    fanatic    about    my 

exercise  and  fresh  air." 


tliat 


'Tlie  vacuum  cleaner  isn't  so  good.    It  picks  up  the 
dirt  before  I   can   get  it  all  swept  under  the  rug." 


OMM 


"Do  you  think  a  girl  might  love  me  for  my  totem  pole 
collection?    They're  bright,  and  they  don't  talk  back." 


PS^^F 


41 


Hello  There: 

Here  is  a  page  full  of  valentines  .  .  . 
all  kinds  of  valentines  .  .  .  for  all 
kinds  of  people. 

Can  you  remember  your  first  valen- 
tine? 

Mine,  I  think  arrived  in  kindergar- 
ten. 

The  message  tvas  to  the  point  and 
terse — 
"It  is  it .  .  .1  like  it .  . .  Goodbye'' 

If  I  could  just  remember  .  .  .  what 
was  what. 

There  is  only  one  kind  of  valentine 
I  don't  like — 
the  one  signed,  "Guess  who!" 

My  favorites  come  in  big  square  en- 
velopes ...  ■ 

with  bold  round  printing  . . .  finger- 
smudged  sometimes 

but  always  addressed  .  . .  "To  Daddy 
. . ."  signed  "Bubbles  and  Happy." 

Ah,  me!  ...  I  guess  I'm  getting  old. 

Here  is  a  page  full  of  valentines  . . . 
all  for  you. 

— Ted  M alone 


Arthur  would  never  be  my  choice 
He  has  a  condescending  voice 
But  I  could  take  another 
Long  look,  at  Arthur's  brother. 
His  voice  is  low,  and  I  have  found 
It  has  a  slight  "come  hither"  sound— 
I  feel  inclined  some  day  to  do  so 
Complete— with  trousseau. 

— Helena  K.  Beacham 


When  singing  for  him  songs 

he  loved  at  dusk. 
Sometimes  a  fleeting  shadow 

crossed  my  heart. 
A  yearning  that  these  songs 

would  not  bring  pain 
If  he  should  hear  them  when 

we  were  apart. 

I  did  not  know  it  would  be 

my  heart-strings 
These  tender  melodies  would 

bruise  and  bare; 
I  did  not  know  that  I  would 

be  the  one 
To  sit  at  twilight  by  an  empty 

chair. 
— Isla  Paschal  Richardson 


MENDER 

"Your   pots  and    pans,   the  tinker 

cried, 
I'll  nnend  them  good  as  new!" 
But  what  about  my  battered 

pride? 
What  can   a  tinker  do 
About  the  small  holes  in  a  heart? 
The   cracks  in    long-used   dreams? 
And  what  con  any  mender  do 
About   joy's    parted    seams? 

Then   I   beheld  an  old,  bent  man; 
"My  name  is  Time,"   he  said. 
And   out  ot  his   grey  haversack 
He   pulled  a   magic  thread — 
"New  love,"   he  cried,   "it's  made 

to   mend 
The    heart    as    nought    else    can." 
And  so  I  gave  my  tattered  heart 
To  Time  and  that  old   man 
Still  shows  me,  as  his  needle  flies. 
He  is  OS  kind  as  he  is  wise! 

— Pauline  Havard 


Her  eyes  held  distance  in  their 
faded  depths. 
"It  wasn't  bad  with  just  the 
wind   to   drone 
Against  the  door  and  whip  the 
willow  trees, 
For    winds     get     neighborly 
when    you're    alone. 

"But  since   they've   strung   the 
wires   along   the   road 
I   never  hear  the  wind's  old, 
friendly  song. 
The  wires  wail  and  shriek  till  I 
declore, 
They'll  drive  a  body  crazy  all 
day  long." 

She  tucked  a  straying  hair  be- 
hind  her  ear. 
"I   wonder  just  a   bit   .  .  ." 
her  tone  grew  sharp  .  .  . 
"What    Heaven's    like    and    if 
there's  wind  or  not, 
And  how  it  sounds  on  gold 

strings  of  a  harp." 
— Maribel  Coleman  Haskin 


Her  heart  was  a  furnished 
apartment 

That  she  rented  now  and  then, 

Her  tenants — a  changing  as- 
sortment— 

She  wasn't  impressed  with 
men. 

He  came.  From  the  sound  of 

her  laughter, 
I -knew  that  renting  would 

cease, 
And  it  wasn't  long  thereafter 
That  she  gave  him  a  life-time 

lease. 

— Dorothy  B.  Elfstrom 


■ 


m 


Be  sure  to  listen  to  Ted  Malone's  program  Monday 


MOTHER  OF  IIKCOLN 


("AJ]  that  I  am  or  ever  hope  to  be  I  owe  fo  my 
angel  mother.  .  .  ."  Ahraham  Lincoln') 

Nancy  Hanks,  will  you  stir  in  your  lonely  grave  today 

As  a  nation  mourns  anew  your  gentle  son? 
Will  you  remember  him  as  the  tousled  nine-year  one 

Whose  path  you  guided  for  such  a  little  way? 
Will  you  look  across  the  valley  to  the  hill 

Where,  lost  years  ago,  he  planed  the  rough-hewn  board  ' 
To  chalk  the  haid-eamed  words  of  knowledge  stored 

Against  the  time  of  need  which  he  must  fill? 
When  night  has  come  and  the  echoed  songs  are  drifting  far, 

Nancy  Hank;s,  will  the  black  oaks  give  you  rest? 
Will  his  voice  come  back,  blest  among  the  blest. 

To  reach  your  dust  from  some  remembered  star? 

— Edythe  Hope  Genee 


OEFIflllTION 

Could  the  meaning  of  "Coquettish" 
Possibly   be  this:  "Go-gettish"? 

— Dorothy  Unde 


/^<^' 


,3^ 


f^«2 


Af^/i^- 


Another  hour  in  which  to  dress 

and  pose. 
Will  he  walk  in  to  find  me 

slacked  and  shirted — 
And  spectacled — knee-deep 

and  introverted 
In  Harvard  Classics  and  port- 
folios? 
Or  shall  I  wear  my  turquoise 

velvet — twist 
My  hair  into  an   aureole  of 

bronze. 
And  at  the  spinet,  move  my 

hands  like  swans 
Over  the  Second  Rhapsody  by 

Liszt? 
I   could   wait   at   the   garden 

wall,  obsessed 
By  moonlight  with  my  hair  a 

web  of  frost. 
My  eyes  like  fire  opals, 

strange  and  lost 
And  dangerous.    It's  time  I'm 

getting  dressed. 
I'll  wear  the  blue-plaid  ging- 
ham.  Let  me  see- 
Where  is  that  walnut 'cookie 

recipe? 

— Cosette  Middleton 


TELL  iILL  YOUR  LOVES 

Go  now  to  those  you  love  in  any  way 

And  say,  "I  tove  you  for  your  gentle 
grace. 

Your  worldly  charm.  I  love  you  for 
that  day 

We  knell  beside  the  brook  and  watched 
the  race 

Of  ripples  down  the  stream."  Say  to 
your  friend,. 

"You  ar»  my  friend,"  and  to  the  hearts 
that  know 

Your  heart,  "i  love  you  that  you  under- 
stand!"    . 

Tell  all  your  loves  your  love  before  you 

go. 

For,  in  deporting,  whether  time  or  fate 
Or  death  should  close  the  door,  that 

love  is  lest 
That  is  not  said,  and  on  the  heart  the 

weight 
Of  new  regrets  lies  for  beyond  their 

cost — 
The   things   you   might   have   said,    or 

might  have  done. 
That  now    can  nevermore  be  said  or 

done. 

—Harold  Applebaum 


RADIO  MIRROR  WILL  PAY  FIFTY  DOLLARS 

for  the  best  original  poem  sent  in  each  month  by  a  reader.  Five  dollars 
will  be  paid  for  each  other  original  poem  used  on  Between  the  Book- 
ends  pages  in  Radio  Mirror.  Limit  poems  to  30  lines,  address  to  Ted 
Malone,  Radio  Mirror,  205  E.  42,  N.  Y.  17,  N.  Y.  When  postage  is  en- 
closed, every  effort  will  be  made  to  return  unused  manuscripts.  This  is 
not  a  contest,  but  an  offer  to  purchase  poetry  for  our  Bookends  pages^ 


through  Friday  mornings  at  11:30  EST  over  ABC 


'/* 


Hello  There: 

Here  is  a  page  full  of  valentines  .  .  . 
all  kinds  of  valentines  ,  .  .  for  all 
kinds  of  people. 

Can  you  remember  your  first  valen- 
tine  ? 

Mine,  I  think  arrived  in  kindergar- 
ten. 

The  message  tvas  to  the  point  and 
terse — 
"It  is  it  ...  I  like  it  .  . .  Goodbye." 

If  I  could  just  remember  .  .  .  what 
was  what. 

There  is  only  one  kind  of  valentine 
~  don't  like — 
the  one  signed,  **Guess  who!" 

favorites  come  in  big  square  en- 
velopes ... 

'th  bold  round  printing  .  .  .  finger- 
smudged  sometimes 
always  addressed  .  , .  *^To  Daddy 
. ."  signed  "Bubbles  and  Happy '^ 
,  met  . . .  /  guess  Vm  getting  old. 

Here  is  a  page  full  of  valentines  .  .  . 
all  for  you. 

— Ted  Malone 


When  singing  for  him  songs 

he  loved  at  dusk, 
Sometimes  a   fleeting  shadow 

crossed  my  heart. 
A  yearning  that   these  songs 

would   not  bring  pain 
If  he  should  hear  them  when 

we  were  apart, 

I   did  not  know  it  would  be 

my  heart-strings 
These  tender  melodies  would 

bruise  and  bare; 
I  did  not  know  that  I  would 

be  the  one 
To  sit  at  twilight  by  an  empty 

chair. 
— Isia  Paschal  Richardson 


Arthur  would  never  be  my  choice 
He  has  a  condescending  voice 
But  I  could  take  another 
Long  look/  at  Arthur's  brother. 
His  voice  is  low,  and  I  have  found 
tt  has  a  slight  "come  hither"  sound- 
I  feel  Inclined  some  day  to  do  so 
Complete— with  trousseou. 

— Helena  K.  Beacham 


"Your   pots   and    pans,   the   finlcer 

cried, 
I'll  mend  them  good  as  newl" 
But  what  about  my  battered 

pride? 
Whot  can   a   tinker  do 
About  the  small  holes  in  a  heart? 
The  cracks  in    long-used   dreams? 
And  what  can  any  mender  do 
About   joy's   parted   seams? 

Then    I    beheld   an   old.   bent  man; 
"My  name  is  Time."  he  said, 
And    out   of   his   grey   haversock 
He    pulled   a   magic  thread — 
"New  love,"   he  cried,  "it's  made 

to   mend 
The    heart    as    nought    else    con." 
And  so  I  gave  my  tattered  heart 
To  Time  and  that  old   man 
Still  shows  me,  as  his  needle  flies, 
He  is  as  kind  as  he  is  wisel 

— Pauline  Havard 


WIILING  WIRES 


Her  eyes  held  distance  in  their 
faded  depths. 
"It  wasn't  bad  with  just  the 
wind    to    drone 
Against  th©  door  and  whip  the 
willow  trees. 
For    winds     get     neighborly 
when    you're    alone. 

"But  since   they've   strung   the 
wires    along   the    road 
!   never  hear  the  wind's  old, 
friendly  song. 
The  wires  wail  and  shriek  till 
declare, 
They'll  drive  a  body  crazy  < 
doy  long." 

She  tucked  o  straying  hair  be- 
hind her  ear. 
"1   wonder  just  a   bit   .  . 
her  tone  grew  sharp  .  .  . 
"What    Heaven's    like    and    il 
there's  wind   or  not, 
And  how  it  sounds  on  gok' 

strings  of  a  harp." 
— Maribet  Coleman  Haski  ■ 


C^- 


^  ^''a^kz^zo^ 


Her  heart  was  a  furnished 

apartment 
That  she  rented  now  and  the. 
Her  tenants — a  changing  a^ 

sortment — 
She  wasn't  impressed  with 

men. 

He  came.  From  the  sound  o 

her  laughter, 
I. knew  that  renting  would 

cease, 
And  it  wasn't  long  thereafti  ■ 
That  she  gave  him  a  life-tin: 

-^Dorothy  B.  Elfstro 


:e::«>^ 


Be  sure  to  listen  to  Ted  Malone's  program  f  onday 


^ 


MOTHER  OF  LINCOLN 

<^"A\l  thai  I  am  or  ever  hope  Jo  he  /  owe  to  my 
angel  mother.  .  .  ."  i^broham  Lincoln') 

Nancy  Hanks,  will  you  stir  in  your  lonely  grave  today 

As  a  nation  mourns  anew  your  gentle  son? 
Will  you  remember  him  as  the  tousled  nine-year  one 

Whose  path  you  guided  for  such  a  little  way? 
Will  you  look  across  the  valley  to  the  hill 

Where,  lost  years  ago,  he  planed  the  rough-hewn  board ' 
To  chalk  the  hard-earned  words  of  knowledge  stored 

Against  the  time  of  need  which  he  must  fill? 
When  night  has  come  and  the  echoed  songs  are  drifting  far, 

Nancy  Hanl^s,  will  the  black  ooks  give  you  rest? 
Will  his  voice  come  back,  blest  among  the  blest. 

To  reach  your  dust  from  some  remembered  star? 

— Edyihe  Hope  Genee 


Another  hour  in  which  to  dress 

and  pose. 
Will  he  walk  in  to  find  me 

slacked  and  shirted — 
And  spectacled — knee-deep 

and  introverted 
In  Harvard  Classics  and  port- 
folios? 
Or  shall  I  wear  my  turquoise 

velvet — bwist 
My   hair   into  an   cnireole  of 

bronze. 
And  at  the  spinet,  move  my 

hands  like  swans 
Over  the  Second  Rhapsody  by 

Liszt? 
I   could   wait   at   the   garden 

wall,  obsessed 
By  moonlight  with  my  hair  a 

web  of  frost. 
My  eyes  like  fire  opals, 

strange  and   lost 
And  dangerous.    It's  time  I'm 

gsiting  dressed. 
I'll  wear  the  blue-ploid  ging- 
ham.  Let  me  see — 
Where  is  that  walnut'cookie 

rc-ipe? 

— Cosette  Middleton 


UEFINITION 

Could   the   meaning   of  "Coquettish" 
Possibly   be  this:   "Go-getltsh"? 

— Dorothy  Uncle 


TEll  ALL  VOIK  LOVES 

Go  now  to  those  you  love  In  any  way 
And  say,  "I  love  you  for  your  gentle 

grace. 
Your   worldly   chorm.    I    love   you   for 

that  day 
We  knelt  beside  the  brook  and  watched 

the  race 
Of  ripples  down  the  stream."  Soy  to 

your  Mend, 
"You  af  my  friend,"  and  to  the  hearts 

that  know 
Your  heart,  "I  love  you  that  you  under- 
stand!" 
Tell  all  your  loves  your  love  before  you 

90, 
For,  in  departing,  whether  lime  or  fate 
Or  death   should   close  the   door,  that 

love  Is  lost 
That  is  not  said,  and 

weight 
Of   new   regret*   lies  for  beyond   their 

eost-^ 
The   things    you    might   hove   said,    or 

might  hove  done. 
That  now    can   nevermore   be  said  or 

done. 

-—Harold  Appleboum 


trough  jriday  mornings  at  11:30  EST  over  ABC 


\l\m  MIRROR  WILL  P1Y  FIFTY  HOLLOS 

for  the  best  original  poem  sent  in  each  month  by  a  reader.  Five  dollars 
will  be  paid  for  each  other  original  poem  used  on  Between  the  Book- 
ends  pages  in  Radio  Mirror.  Limit  poems  to  30  lines,  address  to  Ted 
Malone,  Radio  Mirror,  205  E.  42,  N.  Y.  17,  N.  Y.  When  postage  is  en- 
closed, every  effort  will  be  made  to  return  unused  manuscripts.  This  is 
not  a  contest,  but  an  offer  to  purchase  poetry  for  our  Bookends  pages. 


"iSM 


IN  LIVING  PORTRAITS 


A  crusading  big-city  editor 
goes  more  than  half  way 
to  meet — and  beat — trouble 


1.  Around  Steve  Wilson,  racket-smash- 
ing editor  of  the  Big  Town  Illustrated 
Press,  has  collected  a  small  group  of 
co-workers  who  are  used  to  violence, 
prepared  f.or  tragedy.  When  Willie- 
the-Weep,  a  waterfront  character  who 
has  often  been  useful  to  Steve,  is 
attacked  while  trying  to  get  to  the 
bottom  of  a  suspicious  incident  he 
has  stumbled  into,  Lorelei  Kilbourne 
and  Steve  swiftly  come  to  Willie's 
assistance  at  Mozart's  cafe,  where  he 
has  gone  for  shelter.  While  Lorelei 
makes  Willie  more  comfortable, 
Steve  gets  on  the  phone  to  one  of 
his  many  "contacts"  to  try  to  learn 
the    identity    of    Willie's    assailant. 


2.  The  contact  in  this  case  is 
Harry  the  Hack,  another  of 
Steve's  lieutenants.  Harry's 
knowledge  of  the  city's  unlit 
back  alleys  and  his  ability  to 
deal  with  the  characters  who 
inhabit  them  make  him  an 
invaluable  scout  when  Steve 
is  hunting  down  a  criminal. 


Steve  Wilson  is  played  by . . .  Edward  Pawley 

Lorelei  Kllboume Fran  Carlon 

Harry  the  Hack Bob  Dryden 

Willie-the-Weep Donald  MacDonald 

Mozart Larry  Hainea 


44 


RXrtS, 


3.  The  dramas  that  underlie  the  surface  life  of  a  metropolitan  city  sometimes  cross  the  line  that  divides  excitement  from 
tragedy.  Bat  Steve  Wilson,  crime-fighting  editor  of  Big  Town's  Illustrated  Press,  and  his  alert  assistant,  Lorelei  Kilbonrne, 
have  learned  to  disregard  the  sordidness  into  which  their  assignments  frequently  lead  them.  For  Steve  and  Lorelei  are 
crusaders,  intent  on  making  their  city  a  clean,  safe,  decent  place  in  which  to  live — a  place  where  crime  and  evil  cannot  flourish. 
Their  realistic  adventures  make  up  the  stories  you  hear  on  the  program  about  a  big  city's  crime  problems   .   .   .  Big   Town. 


Big  Town  is  heard-on  NBC  stations,  Tuesday  nights  at  10,  EST. 


Ill 


45 


Planning  board  meeting   (1.  to  r.) :   Frances  Buss,  director, 
Anne  Kelleher,  assistant  to  Dorothy  Doan,  Dorothy  herself. 


SOMETIMES  our  big  decisions  are  influenced  by 
comparatively  small  things.    That's  what  hap- 
pened when  a  fellow  reporter  tossed  a  remark 
to  Dorothy  Doan, 

Dorothy,  the  charming  hostess  of  WCBS-TV's 
Vanity  Fair,  was  one  of  a  little  group  of  top  news- 
paper writers  parked  in  a  corridor  of  Roosevelt 
Hospital  in  New  York  last  August,  waiting  to  inter- 
view Mrs.  Oksana  Kasenkina,  the  schoolteacher  who 
had  leaped  from  a  window  in  the  Russian  Consulate. 
After  a  long  interval,  word  came  that  Mrs.  Kasen- 
kina had  been  excited  by  a  television  newscast  from 
her  room  and  the  doctors  had  said  she  must  rest. 
There  would  be  no  more  interviews  that  day. 

"This  television!"  a  reporter  exclaimed  impa- 
tiently, shaking  her  head  indignantly  at  being 
scooped  on  one  of  the  biggest  news  stories  of  the 
year  by  this  upstart  invention. 

Dorothy  Doan  wasn't  shaking  her  head.  She  was 
using  it  tp  think  with,  hard.  Only  an  hour  before 
she  had  been  invited  to  throw  over  her  hard -won 
place  as  woman's  editor  and  top  feature  writer  for 
one  of  the  big  news  services  and  take  on  a  television 
program,  and  she  had  been  turning  the  offer  over 
in  her  mind  and  trying  to  clarify  her  thinking 
about  it. 

"But,"  she  spoke  up  now,  (Continued  on  page  111) 


46 


MM^mm^MMiM^^mtm 


YOU  ARE  AN 


Jon  Gnagy  demonstrates  how  viewers  can 
turn  basic  shapes  into  pictures,  laughs  at  those 
who  complain  that  they  "haven't  any  talent." 


The  beard — but  not  the  shirt! — gives  Gnagy  a  look 
of  the  Old  Masters  that  he  borrows  for  the  program. 


When  pneumonia  kept  Gnagy  from  coming  to  the 
show  it   came   to   Gnagy,   originated  at  hospital ! 


IF  television  entreprenetirs  got  service  stripes  for 
every  six  months  of  duty,  the  sleeve  of  Jon 
Gnagy's  bold  yellow  and  black  plaid  shirt  would 
now  boast  six  stripes.  Not  even  an  attack  of  pneu- 
monia and  104  degrees  of  temperature  cotdd  inter- 
rupt the  longest  continuovis  record  for  any  show 
on  TV,  dating  back  to  1946. 

Under  the  watchful  eyes  of  a  doctor  and  niirse, 
You  Are  an  Artist  last  October  became  the  first 
show  telecast  from  a  hospital  ward,  except  for 
news  broadcasts  in  which  the  hospital  setting  was 
a  planned  part  of  the  program.  In  this  case,  it  was 
Gnagy  himself  who  insisted  that  the  show  must  go 
on  and  that,  sick  or  well,  he  had  to  be  in  his  usual 
Wednesday  evening  spot  at  7:30  EST.  So  viewers 
saw  him  via  a  WPTZ  mobile  unit  set  up  at  Temple 
University  Hospital  in  Philadelphia,  propped  up  in 
a  wheelchair  with  drawing  board  in  front  of  him, 
assisted  by  his  director-writer  Don  Hirst  and  sur- 
rounded by  a  class  of  his  fellow-patients.  Even  the 
doctor  got  into  the  act  and  turned  out  a  rather  neat 
sketch  during  the  twenty-minute  progi'am. 

Seven  days  later,  still  a  little  weak  and  wobbly, 
but  with  plenty  of  spirit,  Gnagy  was  back  in  his 
regular  WNBT  studio  setting  in  New  York's  Radio 
City. 

This  all  fits  in  with  his   {Continued  on  page  88) 


RADIO    MIRROR 


TELEVISION 


SECTION 


47 


Wendy  Barrie  takes  WABD's  new  daytime  television  audience  on  a  tour 
Inside  Photoplay  every  afternoon.  Visitors  on  either  side  of  Wendy, 
above,  are  Photoplay  Editor  Adele  Fletcher  and  actor  James  Dunn. 


Paris  Cavalcade,  with  Faye  Emerson, 
brings  French  fashions  to  American 
women,    WNBT,    Wednesday    nights. 


On   Philco    Theater's   "Rebecca"   cast 
included,  left  to  right,  Mary  Anderson, 


Co-stars  of  the  new  Cases  of  Eddie 
Drake  dramas,  filmed  for  CBS-TV: 
Don     Haggerty,     Patricia     Morrison. 


IF  you're  a  statesman  oi'  a  starlet, 
or  just  a  Plain  Jane  who  is  going 
to  be  televised,  you  don't  have  to 
worry  about  that  double  chin  or  the 
blemish  that  decides  to  appear  on 
the  very  day  you  have  to  face  the 
cameras.  That's  what  Helena  Rub- 
instein says,  after  four  years  of  ex- 
perimenting with  television  make-up. 

It  seems  that  all  you  do  is  put 
plenty  of  dark  shadow  on  the  double 
chin,  and  it  turns  into  one  pleasantly 
rounded  single.  A  cake  foundation 
in  beige  or  bronze  disguises  all  the 
bvimps  and  blotches — the  darker  one 
does  the  better  cover-up  job,  of 
course. 

Features  tend  to  flatten  out  on 
the  television  screen,  so  you're  apt 


48 


RADIO    MIRROR    TELEVISION    SECTION 


Bramwell    Fletcher,    Florence    Reed, 
Howard    St.    John,    Reginald    Mason. 


Viewers  as  weU  as  listeners  now  experience  the  vicarious  thrills  of 
Break  the  Bank  Friday  nights  over  ABC.  Bert  Parks  (with  back  to  the 
camera)  brought  to  TV  all  the  old  fun,  and  a  new  "wish  bowl"  as  well. 


»-  V 


to  look  your  best  with  two  shades 
of  brown  powder  instead  of  one.  A 
lighter  shade  is  good  for  the  overall 
effect,  but  use  a  dark  shade  just 
under  the  cheekbones  if  your  face 
is  round  and  needs  modeling.  Place 
it  a  little  higher  to  minimize  high 
cheekbones. 

Your  lipstick  will  depend  upon 
the  lighting,  but  the  colors  range 
from  a  medium  gray  to  dark  gray 
to  brown.  Amazingly  enough,  girls 
look  pretty  in  them!  Eye  shadow 
will  make  yoiu:  eyes  look  larger  by 
reflecting  the  lights. 

You  can't  use  ordinary  mascara, 
because  the  heat  of  the  lights  melts 
it  into  an  inky  stream.  So  see  that  it's 
waterproof,  {Continued  on  page  82) 


Bob  Smith  and  Dan  Seymour  stndy  their 
scripts  for  the  Bob  Smith  TV  Show,  as 
guest  TaAan  Bey  practices  his  "music."    I 


f— r-fi 

I 

I 


RAT>TO    MTRnOR 


TELEVISION  sErTioN  '' 


Wendy  Barrie  lakes  WABD's  new  daytime  television  audience  on  a  tour 
Inside  Photoplay  every  afternoon.  Visitors  on  either  side  of  Wendy, 
above,  are  Photoplay  Editor  Adele  Fletcher  and  actor  James  Dunn. 


Paris  Cavalcade,  with  Foye  Emerson, 
brings  French  fashions  to  American 
women,    WNBT,    Wednesday    nights. 


Co-sl.Trs  of  tin?  new  Cases  of  Eddie 
Drake  dramas,  filmed  for  CBS-TV: 
Don     Haggerty,     Patricia     Morrison. 


(uMStui 


On    PhJlco    Theater's    "Rebecca"   cast 
included,  left  to  right,  Mary  Anderson, 


mm 


Bramwell    Fletcher,    Florence    Reed, 
Howard    St.    John,    Reginald    Mason. 


IF  you're  a  statesman  or  a  starlet, 
or  just  a  Plain  Jane  who  is  going 
to  be  televised,  you  don't  have  to 
worry  about  that  double  chin  or  the 
blemish  that  decides  to  appear  on 
the  very  day  you  have  to  face  the 
cameras.  That's  what  Helena  Rub- 
instein says,  after  four  years  of  ex- 
perimenting with  television  make-up. 

It  seems  that  all  you  do  is  put 
plenty  of  dark  shadow  on  the  double 
chin,  and  it  turns  into  one  pleasantly 
rounded  single.  A  cake  foundation 
in  beige  or  bronze  disguises  all  the 
bumps  and  blotches — the  darker  one 
does  the  better  cover-up  job,  of 
course. 

Features  tend  to  flatten  out  on 
the  television  screen,  so  you're  apt 


to  look  your  best  with  two  shades 
of  brown  powder  instead  of  one.  A 
lighter  shade  is  good  for  the  overall 
effect,  but  use  a  dark  shade  just 
luider  the  cheekbones  if  your  face 
is  round  and  needs  modeling.  Place 
it  a  httle  higher  to  minimize  high 
cheekbones. 

Your  lipstick  will  depend  upon 
the  lighting,  but  the  colors  range 
from  a  medium  gray  to  dark  gray 
to  brown.  Amazingly  enough,  girls 
look  pretty  in  them!  Eye  shadow 
will  make  your  eyes  look  larger  by 
reflecting  the  lights. 

You  can't  use  ordinary  mascara, 
because  the  heat  of  the  lights  melts 
it  into  an  inky  stream.  So  see  that  it's 
waterproof,  {Continued  on  page  82) 


Viewers  as  well  as  listeners  now  experience  the  vicarious  thrills  of 
Break  the  Bank  Friday  nights  over  ABC.  Bert  Parks  (with  hack  to  the 
camera)  brought  to  TV  all  the  old  fun,  and  a  new  "wish  bowl"  as  well. 


Bob  Smith  and  Dan  S«ymoQi  study  their 
scripts  for  the  Bob  Smith  TV  Show,  as 
gneet  Tnriian  Bey  practices  bis  "nfusic." 


RADIO    MIRROR    TELEVISION    SECTION 


RAnin  MiB 


^7^  TELEVISION  SECTION 


49 


Have  you  often  longed  for  a  kind  and  sympathetic 

friend  with  whom  you  could  talk  over  your  problems?    Now  you 

have  that  friend  in  Joan  Davis,  who   will  answer  your  letters  each  month 


By  JOAN  DAVIS 

(Heroine  of  When  A  Girl  Marries,  played  by  Mary  Jane  Higby) 


"IITHEN  a  girl  marries,"  the  old  adage  says,  "her 
II  troubles  begin."  Now  isn't  that  the  worst,  most 
negative,  premise  in  the  world  with  which  to  start 
a  girl  on  what  should  be  the  happiest  years  of  her  life? 
Let's  look  at  the  bright  side  of  it — isn't  marriage,  after 
all,  with  its  corollary  activities  of  mother  and  home- 
maker,  the  most  wonderful,  most  rewarding  of  all  careers 
for  a  woman?  Perhaps  that  sounds  old-fashioned  in  this 
day  of  "career  girls",  but  marriage  itself  is  a  pretty  old- 
fashioned  institution,  and  one  that  is,  in  spite  of  its  age, 
doing  a  more  thriving  business  at  the  old  stand  as  each 
year  goes  by!  Fortunately,  most  women  feel  as  I  do 
about  marriage.  (Of  course  they  do;  you  can  ask  any 
marriage  license  bureau  if  business  doesn't  get  brisker 
all  the  time.)  Marriage  is  the  nicest  thing  that  can 
happen  to  a  woman,  and  if  she  is  lucky  enough  to  add 
motherhood  to  it,  she  can  count  herself  truly  blessed. 
But  marriage,  like  practically  anything  else  in  the  world 
worth  having,  isn't  aU  unalloyed  bliss. 


Each  month  on  these  pages,  Joan  Davis  will  answer 
your  questions  on  any  problem  concerning  mar- 
riage, except  problems  of  health  or  of  law.  Address 
your  letters  to  Joan  Davis,  Radio  Mirror  Magazine, 
205  East  42nd  Street,  New  York  17,  New  York. 
Joan  will  also  choose,  for  each  issue,  one  problem 
which  she  will  ask  readers  to  answer.  Each  month, 
to  the  person  sending  in  the  best  answer  in  the 
opinion  of  the  editors,  whose  decision  will  be  final, 
RADIO  MIRROR  WILL  PAY  FIFTY  DOLLARS. 
No  letters  will  be  returned.  Limit  your  answer  to 
one  hundred  words  and  send  it  to  Answers,  Radio 
Mirror,  at  the  address  above.  And  be  sure  to  listen 
to  When  A  Girl  Marries  each  Monday  through 
Friday  at  5  P.M.,  EST,  over  NBC  network  stations. 


Marriage  does  bring  problems,  to  women  in  real  life 
and  to  women  hke  me,  in  stories  on  the  air  which  reflect 
real  Ufe.  Any  woman  who  says  that  she's  never  faced  a 
problem  in  all  of  her  marriage  is  either  untruthful  or  un- 
able to  recognize  a  problem  when  she  sees  one.  Marriage 
brings  a  multitude  of  problems,  big  and  Uttle,  to  be  faced 
each  day — everything  from  "What  shall  I  have  for  din- 
ner?" to  "Can  it  be  possible  that  my  husband  has  fallen 
in  love  with  another  woman?"  And,  too,  the  decisions  to 
be  made  after  marriage  are  quite  different  from  those  a 
girl  must  make  when  she's  younger,  when  she  lives 
under  the  guidance  and  shelter  of  her  parents. 

When  she's  married  (if  she's  wise)  a  girl  can  no 
longer  throw  her  burdens  on  her  mother  or  her  father 
and  expect  them  to  provide  adequate  solutions.  Married, 
a  girl  no  longer  is,  and  should  not  expect  to  be,  a  coddled 
and  cosseted  child.  She's  a  woman,  then,  and  half  of 
an  equal  partnership,  and  Avill  remain  so  until  the  end 
of  her  days,  unless  one  or  the  other  of  the  partners 
doesn't  live  up  to  his  side  of  the  bargain. 

There  are  times,  however,  when  no  matter  how  hard  a 
woman  tries  to  stand  on  her  own  feet,  to  meet  her  prob- 
lems and  solve  them  herself,  she  searches  her  mind  and 
her  heart  for  a  solution  and  can  find  none.  Qtiite  often, 
it's  simply  a  matter  of  not  being  able  to  see  the  forest 
for  the  trees — of  being  so  close  to  the  problem  that  she 
cannot  stand  aside  and  observe  it  impartially,  think 
about  it  without  prejudice.  When  and  if  that  time  comes, 
a  woman  can,  and  should,  ask  for  help. 

Which  brings  me  to  the  very  important  (and,  to  me 
very  exciting  and  complimentary)  purpose  of  this  page. 
Here,  every  month,  I'm  going  to  do  my  best  to  help 
you — all  of  you  who  care  to  write  to  me — ^in  solving 
your  marriage  problems.  When  the  editors  of  Radio 
Mirror  first  asked  me  if  I  would  handle  this  new 
monthly  department,  I  was  surprised,  and  not  a  little 
perturbed.  "Why  me?"  I  wanted  to  know.  "I'm  not  an 
expert — ^not  a  doctor  or  a  lawyer  or  a  psychiatrist  or  an 
expert  home  economist — and  it  seems  to  me  that  to  be 
an  expert  on  marriage  one  would  have  to  be  a  com- 
bination of  all  of  those,  with  some  help  from  Providence 
besides." 

"No,"  I  was  told,  "you're  not  any  of  those  things. 
What  you  are,  however,  is  a  married  woman.  A  wife 
and  a  mother.  You  won't  be  asked  to  solve  problems, 
settle  disputes.   All  you  will  be  (Continued  on  page  98) 


50 


Joan  has  an  interested  observer  of  her 
newest  activity  —  her  small  son,  Sammy. 


Mrs.  Bill  was  well  known  on  the  networks, 
before  her  marriage,  as  singer  Carol  Ames. 


Bill  Cullen 


cJxadlo  8  youngesi  cfuisunasler  never 
neeaea  a  golden  sfioon  — 
he  teas  born  Knowing  note  io  be 
in  iwo  filaces  ai  once 

By  MARTIN  COHEN 


Two  shows  don't  exhanst  BUl's  creative 
energy.  He's  done  a  glamorous  decorating 
job  on  the  Cnllens'  New  York  apartment. 


And  so — ^in  spite  of  Bill's  bad  practical 
jokes — ^they  were  married.  FeUow-M.C. 
Todd  Rnssell  and  wife  were  among  guests. 


d 


BOIL  rapidly  the  following  ingredients:  a  rapier  wit, 
a  triple  portion  of  imagination  and  a  dash  of  pepper. 
Elnd  result:  Bill  CuUen,  the  youngest  successful 
quizmaster  on  the  networks. 

At  the  age  of  29,  Bill's  incisive  wit  has  made  him  a 
third  degree  specialist  on  radio's  two  popular  quiz  pro- 
grams, Winner  Take  All  and  Hit  the  Jackpot.  Groucho 
Marx  calls  him  the  best  quizmaster  in  the  business.  In 
all,  Bill  Cullen  does  eighteen  network  shows  a  week. 
Not  bad  for  a  kid  who  four  years  ago  was  riding  herd 
on  a  flock  of  records  in  Pittsbtirgh. 

And  success  is  easy  for  Bill.  He  merely  acts  natural. 

"I'm  an  extroverted  introvert  with  an  inferior  supe- 
riority complex,"  Bill  explained.  "In  other  words — a 
bom  ham." 

He  began  to  prove  this  at  an  early  age  in  the  public 
schools  of  Pittsbtu-gh,  his  home  town.  He  emceed  student 
assemblies,  broke  up  scholastic  spelling  bees  with  his 
clowning,  organized  shows  to  buy  a  new  coat  of  varnish 


52 


TAKES  ALL 


Carol   is   the   best   sport   Bill   ever   knew.   She  has   to   be! 


for  the  gym  and  when  he  disagreed  with  the  policy  of 
the  official  school  paper,  he  published  one  of  his  own. 

"Besides,  I'm  restless,"  Bill  said.  "I  like  to  get  things 
done  in  a  hurry." 

Impatience  led  him  to  announce  he  was  quitting  school 
at  the  age  of  sixteen.  When  he  couldn't  be  argued  out 
of  it,  his  father,  a  practical  man,  gave  Bill  a  job  in  his 
garage  and  worked  him  so  hard  that  at  the  end  of  five 
months  Bill  gladly  returned  to  high  school  and  later 
went  to  the  University  of  Pittsburgh. 

It  was  diiring  his  high  school  days  that  Bill  became 
interested  in  a  radio  career.  In  fact,  he  talked  local 
merchants  into  buying  the  school  a  pubUc  address  sys- 
tem so  he  could  work  with  a  microphone.  But  an  auto- 
mobile accident  that  left  him  with  a  permanent  limp 
confused  the  next  few  years  of  his  life. 

"While  I  lay  in  the  hospital  for  two  months,"  Bill 
said,  "I  decided  I  could  do  the  most  good  as  a  doctor." 

He  registered  at  Pitt  in  a  pre-medical  course.  If  Bill 
had  worked  his  way  through  college  selling  magazine 
subscriptions  or  clerking  in  a  store,  he  might  be  WiUiam 
Cullen,  M.D.  today.  Instead  he  got  a  radio  job  for  his 
after-school   hours.    During    the   next   four    years    he 


t^early  knocked  himself  out  carrying  a  fuU  schedule  at 
Pitt  and  working  full  time  at  the  station.  But  he  con- 
vinced himself  that  his  real  interest  was  radio,  not 
medicine. 

Bill  remembers  well  his  Pittsburgh  experience  at 
WWSW  and  his  friends  there  well  remember  him.  Cul- 
len's  -stunts  are  legendary  in  Pittsburgh  radio.  And 
when  they  speak  of  him,  it's  with  the  same  feeUng  of 
awe  that  old  timers  have  for  a  hurricane  that  once 
ripped  through  the  country. 

Because  WWSW  is  an  independent  station  devoting 
most  of  its  time  to  news,  record  shows  and  sports  cover- 
age, Bill's  gift  of  gab  was  a  definite  asset.  But  he  would 
easily  get  dissatisfied  with  a  program  that  became 
routine. 

Early  in  his  radio  career,  he  announced  a  daily  pro- 
gram of  recorded  classical  music.  He  began  to  doubt 
the  attentiveness  of  the  listeners,  so  on  one  program  he 
played  Tschaikowsky's  Fourth  in  reverse.  There  were 
no  repercussions.  The  following  night  Bill  bought  him- 
self a  toy  whistle  and  while  recorded  miisic  of  Wagner 
hit  the  air.  Bill  opened  his  announcer's  mike  and  began 
to  improvise  over  the  Wagner.  {Continued  on  page  101) 


Bill  CuUen  emcees  CBS  programs  Winner  Take  All  (Mon.-Fri.,  5:30  P.M.  EST)  and  Hit  the  Jackpot  (Tues.,  10  P.M.  EST). 


53 


I 


YOUR  TICKET  T 


T 


'v^it*.  '-4a 


rn 


4> 


^4 


iS  ■  f 


it  c^  fuH  2S9  6e 


IT'S  Sunday  night  at  8,  EST,  and  by  Radio 
Mirror's  special  escort  you're  in  one  of  the 
blue-green  seats  of  ABC's  Ritz  Theater 
in  New  York  City,  waiting  for  Stop  the  Music 
to  start  the  prizes  rolling.  Music-wise  listen- 
ers both  at  home  and  in  the  studio  have  a 
chance  to  guess  the  names  of  the  songs  that 
Dick  Brown  and  Kay  Armen  half-sing,  half- 


hum.  Maybe  you  won't  be  called  as  a  contes- 
tant, but  that  won't  prevent  you  from  holHing 
your  breath-asM.C-  Bert- Parks  quizzes  those 
who  have  been,  or  reaches  out  by  phone  to 
listeners  in  far  corners  of  the  country.  For 
to  win  on  Stop  the  Music  means  a  fabulous 
gift,  and  to  guess  the  Mystery  Tvme  (it's  only 
telephone-players  who  get  a  chance  at  that) 


is  like  coming  into  an  Aladdin's  cave-full  of 
treasure.  Dispensing  this  fulITiour  of  rnusical 
fun-are^  L  to-  r.^  Terry  Ross,^  Ken-  Williams, 
announcers;  musical  director  Harry  Salter; 
announcer  Don  Hancock;  Kay  Armen,  Dick 
Brown;  Bert  Parks,  at  phone;  Dorothy  O'Con- 
nor, his  aide.  Director  Mark  Goodson  is  off- 
stage in  the  engineer's  booth. 


1  i  ' 


it  i^  ^UK  ^  6t 


IT'S  Sunday  night  at  8,  EST,  and  by  Radio 
Mirror's  special  escort  you're  in  one  of  the 
blue-green  seats  of  ABC's  Ritz  Theater 
in  New  York  City,  waiting  for  Stop  the  Music 
to  start  the  prizes  rolling.  Music-wise  listen- 
ers both  at  home  and  in  the  studio  have  a 
chance  to  guess  the  names  of  the  songs  that 
Dick  Brown  and  Kay  Armen  half-sing,  half- 


"im.  Maybe  you  won't  be  called  as  a  contes- 
it,  but  that  won't  prevent  you  from  holding 
jur  breath  as  M.C.  Bert  Parks  quizzes  those 
ho  have  been,  or  reaches  out  by  phone  to 
teners  in  far  corners  of  the  country.  For 
win  on  Stop  the  Music  means  a  fabulous 
t,  and  to  guess  the  Mystery  Tune  (it's  only 
ephone-players  who  get  a  chance  at  that) 


is  like  coming  into  an  Aladdin's  cave-full  of 
treasure.  Dispensing  this  fulThour  of  musical 
fun  are,  L  to  r.:  Terry  Ross,  Ken  Williams, 
announcers;  musical  director  Harry  Salter; 
announcer  Don  Hancock;  Kay  Armen,  Dick 
Brown;  Bert  Parks,  at  phone;  Dorothy  O'Con- 
nor, his  aide.  Director  Mark  Goodson  is  off- 
stage in  the  engineer's  booth. 


Significant  comment  from  a  town  that 
measures  marriage  in  months:  "The  Carpenters? 
Why,  they've  heen  married  for  years!" 


Being  together — because  they  like  to,  want 
to — is  the  Carpenter  prescription  for  years 
(twenty-six,  in  their   case)    of  happy  living. 


Ken  Carpenter  announces  The  Charlie  McCarthy  Show  (Sun.,  S  P.M. 


"rflHESE  are  the  Carpenters,"  someone  said,  introduc- 

I  ing  us.  "They've  been  married  for  years  and  they 
go  out  dancing  together!" 

She  didn't  add,  "Imagine!"  but  everyone  got  the  idea. 

We  had  been  out  to  dinner  and  had  stopped  by  one 
of  the  less  pretentioxis  night  spots  for  a  dance  before  we 
went  home. 

"Maybe,"  Betty  said  later,  "we  shouldn't  be  seen  to- 
gether so  much.   People  are  talking." 

Like  the  payoff  line  in  the  corny  old  gag,  Betty  and  I 
always  laugh  politely  when  people  say  things  like  that 
to  us — ^but  we  don't  get  it. 

The  fact  that  we  find  each  other's  company  fun  after 
twenty-six  years  of  marriage  evidently  places  us  in  the 
same  category  of  eccentrics  as  if  we  drove  a  twenty-six- 
year-old  car.  We're  regarded  with  amtised  tolerance — 
nice  enough  people  but  just  a  little  peculiar. 

No  writer  is  ever  going  to  use  our  marriage  as  the 
basis  of  a  daytime  radio  serial,  because  it  has,  to  borrow 
the  writers'  phrase,  no  gimmick.  A  story  of  people  who 
live  together  without  conflict,  who  have  never  had  an 


By   KEN  CARPENTER 


Droppers-in      get      a 
hearty  wdcome  here. 


Betty's  essentially  a  home- 
maker — good  reason  for  Ken's 
nightly     refrigerator     prowls. 


EST),  Kraft  Miuic  HaU  (Thiira.,  9  P.M.  EST)  and  Om  Man's  FamUy  (Sun.,  3:30  P.M.  EST),  aU  on  NBC 


emotional  crises  of  such  proportion  it  was  necessary  to 
consult  the  family  doctor,  attorney,  psychiatrist,  or  Aunt 
Mary,  will  not,  I'm  told,  hold  up  for  a  fifteen  minute 
show  five  days  a  week. 

But  it  makes  a  pretty  wonderful  life. 

Personally,  I  wouldn't  have  missed  a  minute  of  it — 
and  I  wouldn't  change  any  of  it.  So  who  cares  about 
serial  rights? 

It  does  seem,  though,  for  story  purposes,  the  least  I 
could  do  is  say  that  the  first  time  I  saw  Betty  there  was 
a  cyclonic  second  in  which  we  both  knew  we  were 
Meant  For  Each  Other.  Or,  we  could  have  met  when  I 
saved  her,  gasping  but  grateful,  from  drowning.  Even 
mnning  into  each  other  in  a  revolving  door  would  add 
a  touch  of  drama.  Unfortunately,  there  was  no  cyclonic 
second,  we  don't  swim,  and  there  wasn't  a  revolving 
door  on  the  Lombard  CoUege  campus. 

The  first  time  our  paths  crossed  was  the  day  we 
enrolled  at  college.  The  registration  line  was  long,  and 
I  noticed  Betty  because  she  seemed  to  disprove  the 
theory  that  no  one  can  be  in  two  places  at  once.   She 


didn't  notice  me  at  all.  A  fine  beginning  for  a  beautifvil 
romance.  I  was  studying  the  schedule  trying  to  find  the 
easiest  courses  open  to  freshmen.  There  was  a  girl  in 
a  green  skirt  and  a  white  jacket  up  ahead  of  me.  The 
next  time  I  looked  up  a  girl  in  a  green  skirt  and  a  white 
jacket  was  behind  me.  Then  she  was  up  front  again.  I 
must  have  remarked  on  this  phenomenon  because  some- 
one said,  "Those  are  the  Nelson  sisters."  Sure  enough, 
there  were  two  of  them,  dressed  alike,  about  the  same 
height.  I  took  a  good  look  at  Betty  Nelson.  Nothing  hap- 
pened, I  did  not,  believe  me,  have  any  intviition  that  I'd 
be  spending  my  Silver  Wedding  anniversary  with  her. 

She  went  her  way,  I  went  mine.  The  son  of  a  minister 
(this  is  considered  a  severe  handicap  in  many  circles), 
I  was  away  from  home  for  the  first  time,  and  for  the  first 
time  on  my  own.  , 

For  a  full  year,  the  nearest  Betty  and  I  came  to  ro- 
mance was  passing  each  other  on  the  campus  between 
classes.  If  we  had  any  common  bond,  it  was  our  mutual 
sorrow  over  the  football  season. 

She  was   a   girl   with   a    (Continued   on   page   107) 


57 


Significant  comment  from  a  town  that 
measures  marriage  in  months:  "The  Carpenters? 
Why,  they've  been  married  for  years!" 


Being  together — because  they  like  to,  want 
to — is  the  Carpenter  prescription  for  years 
(twenty-six,   in    their   case)    of   happy   living. 


Ken  Carpenter  announces  The  Cliarlie  McCarthy  Show  (Sun.,  8  P. ;-! . 


"fflHESE  are  the  Carpenters,"  someone  said,  introduc- 

I  ing  us.  "They've  been  married  for  years  and  they 
go  out  dancing  together!" 

She  didn't  add,  "Imagine!"  but  everyone  got  the  idea. 

We  had  been  out  to  dinner  and  had  stopped  by  one 
of  the  less  pretentious  night  spots  for  a  dance  before  we 
went  home. 

"Maybe,"  Betty  said  later,  'Sve  shouldn't  be  seen  to- 
gether so  much.   People  are  talking." 

Like  the  payoff  line  in  the  corny  old  gag,  Betty  and  I 
always  laugh  politely  when  people  say  things  like  that 
to  us — but  we  don't  get  it. 

The  fact  that  we  find  each  other's  company  fun  after 
twenty-six  years  of  marriage  evidently  places  us  in  the 
same  category  of  eccentrics  as  if  we  drove  a  twenty-six- 
year-old  car.  We're  regarded  with  amused  tolerance — 
nice  enough  people  but  just  a  little  pecuUar. 

No  writer  is  ever  going  to  use  our  marriage  as  the 
basis  of  a  daytime  radio  serial,  because  it  has,  to  borrow 
the  writers'  phrase,  no  gimmick.  A  story  of  people  who 
live  together  without  conflict,  who  have  never  had  an 


By   KEN  CARPENTER 


Droppen-in      gel      a 
h«krty  welcome  here. 


EST),  Kraft  Muaic  HaU  (Thnra.,  9  P.M.  EST)  and  One  Man'.  FamUr  (Sun.,  Ji30  P.M.  EST),  all  on  NBC 


Betty's  essentially  a  home- 
maker — good  reason  for  Ken's 
nightly     refrigerator     prowls. 


emotional  crises  of  such  proportion  it  was  necessary  to 
consult  the  fanuly  doctor,  attorney,  psychiatrist,  or  Aunt 
Mary,  wiU  not,  I'm  told,  hold  up  for  a  fifteen  minute 
show  five  days  a  week. 

But  it  makes  a  pretty  wonderful  life. 

Personally,  I  wouldn't  have  missed  a  minute  of  it — 
and  I  wouldn't  change  any  of  it.  So  who  cares  about 
serial  rights? 

It  does  seem,  though,  for  story  purposes,  the  least  I 
could  do  is  say  that  the  first  time  I  saw  Betty  there  was 
a  cyclonic  second  in  which  we  both  knew  we  were 
Meant  For  Each  Other.  Or,  we  could  have  met  when  I 
saved  her,  gasping  but  grateful,  from  drowning.  Even 
running  into  each  other  in  a  revolving  door  would  add 
a  touch  of  drama.  Unfortunately,  there  was  no  cyclonic 
second,  we  don't  swim,  and  there  wasn't  a  revolving 
door  on  the  Lombard  College  campus. 

The  first  time  our  paths  crossed  was  the  day  we 
enrolled  at  college.  The  registration  line  was  long,  and 
I  noticed  Betty  because  she  seemed  to  disprove  the 
theory  that  no  one  can  be  in  two  places  at  once.    She 


didn't  notice  me  at  all.  A  fine  beginning  for  a  beautiful 
romance.  I  was  studying  the  schedule  trying  to  find  the 
easiest  courses  open  to  freshmen.  There  was  a  girl  in 
a  green  skirt  and  a  white  jacket  up  ahead  of  me.  The 
next  time  I  looked  up  a  girl  in  a  green  skirt  and  a  white 
jacket  was  behind  me.  Then  she  was  up  front  again.  I 
must  have  remarked  on  this  phenomenon  because  some- 
one said,  "Those  are  the  Nelson  sisters."  Sure  enough, 
there  were  two  of  them,  dressed  alike,  about  the  same 
height.  I  took  a  good  look  at  Betty  Nelson.  Nothing  hap- 
pened. I  did  not,  believe  me,  have  any  intuition  that  I'd 
be  spending  my  Silver  Wedding  anniversary  with  her. 

She  went  her  way,  I  went  mine.  The  son  of  a  minister 
(this  is  considered  a  severe  handicap  in  many  circles), 
I  was  away  from  home  for  the  first  time,  and  for  the  first 
time  on  my  own.  . 

For  a  full  year,  the  nearest  Betty  and  I  came  to  ro- 
mance was  passing  each  other  on  the  campus  between 
classes.  If  we  had  any  common  bond,  it  was  our  mutual 
sorrow  over  the  football  season. 

She   was    a    girl    with   a    (Continued    on    page    107) 


57 


^^^ '  i 


^'^■^c- 


St  >^?M* 


Fit  for  a  king  -  baked  potatoes  stuffed  with  a  melted  cheese  mixture  and  garnished  with  broiled  tomatoes  and  sausages. 


W-^i!---':*BiWl''^:~ . 


m 


So  many  of  us  think  of  potatoes  as  every-day  food. 
They  don't  have  to  be.  In  fact,  potatoes  can  be 
.  made  so  glamorous,  so  mouth-watering,  you  can 
make  them  a  main  dish  instead  of  a  side-Hght!  To 
get  away  from  the  routine  of  potatoes  boiled,  mashed 
or  fried,  I  like  them  in  casseroles,  as  potato  nests, 
as  dumplings.  Egg  yolk  or  minced  onion  in  mashed 
potatoes  transforms  them  completely.  You  can  use 
potatoes  with  meat,  too,  in  casserole  combinations. 
Potatoes  will  help  two  cups  of  meat  serve  four  with 
the  greatest  of  ease.  Call  on  prepared  meats, 
cheeses,  seasonings  and  your  own  sleight-of-hand 
to  make  these  potato  dishes  star  performers  at 
any  meal. 

Stuffed  Baked  Potatoes 


6  large  baking  potatoes 
bacon  drippings 
IV2  tsps.  salt 
Vs  tsp.  pepper 


6  tbsps.  butter  or 

margarine,  divided 
Vi  to  1/2  cups  hot  milk 
paprika 


Choose  potatoes  of  uniform  size.  Scrub  well.  Dry 
and  rub  skins  with  bacon  drippings  or  other  fat. 
Bake  in  hot  oven  (450°  F.)  50  to  60  minutes,  or 
until  done.  Cut  a  slice  from  the  top  of  each  potato. 
Scoop  out  inside,  being  careful  not  to  break  shells. 
Mash  thoroughly  or  put  through  ricer.  Add  salt 
and  pepper,  4  tablespoons  of  butter  and  milk.  (Ex- 
act amount  of  milk  depends  on  size  and  moistness 


Xjl  JJ  1.  JL  J- . 


of  potatoes.)  Beat  until  light  and  fluffy.  Pile  beaten 
potatoes  into  shells.  Melt  remaining  butter  and 
brush  on  tops;  dust  generously  with  paprika.  Re- 
turn to  hot  oven  for  10  to  15  minutes  or  until  nicely 
browned.   Serves  6. 

Cheese  Stuffed  Potatoes:  Add  grated  cheese  to 
potato  along  with  seasonings,  butter  and  milk  and 
beat  in  well.  Allow  up  to  one  tablespoon  of  grated 
cheese  for  each  potato,  the  amount  depending  on  the 
sharpness  of  cheese,  size  of  potatoes  and  personal 
taste. 

Ham  Stuffed  Potatoes:  Choj)  left-over  cooked 
ham  and  add  with  seasonings. 

Savory  Stuffed  Potatoes:  To  the  filling  for  six 
potatoes,  add  three  tablespoons  of  finely  chopped 
parsley  and  two  tablespoons  of  finely  chopped 
pimiento.  If  desired,  three  tablespoons  of  chopped, 
pimiento-stuffed  olives  may  be  substituted  for  the 
pimiento.  Beat  in  with  salt,  pepper,  butter  and  milk. 

Scalloped  Potatoes 


8  medium  sized  potatoes 

salt  and  pepper 
4  tbsps.  flour 


4  tbsps.  butter 
or  margarine 

1  cup  grated  cheese 
milk 


Pare  raw  potatoes  and  cut  into  thin  slices.  Place 
one-third  of  the  slices  in  a  layer  in  bottom  of  a 
greased  casserole.  Season  with  salt  and  pepper, 
sprinkle  with  one-third  of  the  flour  and  grated 
cheese,  and  dot  with  one-third  of  the  butter  cut  into 
bits.  Repeat  until  all  potatoes  and  seasonings  are 
used.  Add  milk  until  it  can  just  be  seen  between 
slices  of  potatoes.  Cover  casserole  and  bake  in  a 
moderate  oven  (350°  F.)  for  1  hour.  Remove  cover 
and  continue  baking  for  30  minutes  longer,  or  until 
top  is  browned  and  potatoes  are  tender.  Makes  4  to 
6  servings. 

Scalloped  Potatoes  with  Meat:  Add  left-over 
chopped  ham  or  crumbled  cooked  sausage  between 
layers  of  potatoes  if  desired. 


Potato  Topping  or  Borders 


2  egg  yolks 
■    paprika 


3  cups  hot  fluffy,  seasoned 
mashed  potatoes 


Beat  yolks  thoroughly  and  reserve  2  tablespoons- 
ful.  Add  to  mashed  potatoes  with  a  dash  of  paprika 
and  beat  together  well.  For  topping,  drop  by  spoons- 
ful on  top  of  hot  meat  or  vegetable  casserole.  Brush 
with  reserved  egg  yolk  and  place  in  hot  oven  (450° 
F.)  until  lightly  browned.   Makes  6  portions. 

For  Potato  Border:  Form  potatoes  into  ring  on 
oven-proof  plate  or  platter.  Brush  with  reserved  egg 
yolk  and  brown  in  hot  oven.  Fill  ring  with  any 
desired  creamed  meat,   fish  or   vegetable   mixture. 

For  Potato  Nests:  Form  potatoes  into  nests  on 
greased  baking  sheet.  Brush  with  reserved  egg  yolk 
and  brown  in  hot  oven.    (Continued  on  page  113) 


RADIO  MIRROR  for  BETTER  mm 


By   RATE   SMITH 

RADIO  MIRROR 
FOOD  COUNSELOR 

Listen  to  Kate  Smith  Speaks 
at  12  Noon  each  weekday,  on 
stations  of  the  Mutual  network. 


59 


w 


L 


■aw-  lm■n^e^^ 


6af7ie  najne. 


%u: 


n  mai  me  m^rde 


'e 


WILL  the  reportei'  who  presumably  works 
for  this  paper  but  who  doesn't  show  up 
much  lately,"  read  the  notice  on  the  New 
York  Eagle  bulletin  board,  "please  come  to  the 
Managing  Editor's  office  the  next  time  he's  in 
town?" 

David  Farrell,  the  Eagle's  star  reporter, 
plucked  the  notice  from  the  board  before  the 
amused  and  concerned  eyes  of  the  staff.  He 
carried  it  into  George  Walker's  office  and  held  it 
out  to  his  chief,  saying  with  weary  sarcasm, 
"I  suppose  this  subtle  notice  means  me,  George?" 

"Notice?"  repeated  Walker  innocently,  but 
with  a  gleam  in  his  eye.  "Oh,  yes — that.  Nice 
of  you  to  take  the  hint,  David." 

"That  was  no  hint,"  said  David.  "That  was  a 
broadside.  What's  the  matter?" 

"Why,  nothing,"  said  George  smoothly.  "Ex- 
cept that  I  can't  find  you  when  I  want  you.  It's 
part  of  my  job  to  hand  out  assignments  to  my 
reporters,   and  you  haven't  so  much   as  come 


RADIO  MIRROR 
READER  BONUS 


to  the  office  in  two  days.  Outside  of  that,  every- 
thing's great!" 

David  sighed,  and  rubbed  his  eyes,  and  found 
that  the  flesh  around  one  of  them  was  still 
bruised  and  sore.  "Let's  get  something  straight, 
George,"  he  said.  "Either  you  have  a  certain 
amount  of  confidence  in  me,  or  you  haven't. 
What  do  you  suppose  I've  been  doing  these  two 
days — playing  hookey,  or  going  after  a  story?" 

The  gleam  in  George  Walker's  eye  became 
dangerously  triumphant.  "What  story?"  he 
barked.  "Or  is  that  a  vulgar  question  for  a 
managing  editor  to  ask?  The  follow-up  on 
Clifford  Putnam?  After  you  got  your  fingers 
burned  once  with  that  guy?" 

David  admitted  it.  Walker  sighed. 

"Look,  David,"  he  said,  "I'll  accept  your 
version  of  the  mix-up  without  proof,  crazy  as 
it  is.  Isn't  that  enough?  A  few  days  ago  Clifford 
Putnam,  millionaire,  America's  Number  One 
Bachelor,  gave  you  an  exclusive  story.  He  told 
you  he  was  going  to  be  married,  and  asked  you 
not  to  reveal  the  name  of  his  bride-to-be.  On 
the  same  day  we  printed  your  item,  Putnam 
denied  it  in  every  afternoon  paper  in  town.  You 
tried  talking  to  Putnam,  and  even  though  he 
was  suppose"d  to  be  a  friend  of  yours,  in  a  dis- 
tant sort  of  way,  he  clammed  up  and  told  you 
only  that  he  was  going  away,  on  a  long  cruise. 
You  tried  advertising  for  the  girl  he'd  named 
to  you  as  his  fiancee,  and  got  lured  into  an  alley 
and  beaten  up  for  your  pains.  It  seems  to  me 
everyone  connected  with  this  engagement— if 
there  was  an  engagement — wants  the  matter 
dropped.  I  want  it  dropped.  I'm  willing  to 
concede  that  none  of  it  was  your  fault,  and 
forget  about  it.   What  do  you  say?" 

"No,"  said  David  stubbornly.  He  hurried  on 
as  Walker's  mouth  tightened.  "I've  got  a  repu- 
tation for  reliability,"  he  said,  "and  after  this 
mess  a  lot  of  other  people  besides  you  must  be 
questioning  it.  If  you'll  just  give  me  a  little 
more  time — " 

"But  why?"  said  Walker,  almost  pleadingly. 
"You've  had  time,  and  what  have  you  got  to 
show  for  it?  Have  you  located  this  girl  Clifford 
Putnam  was  supposed  to  be  engaged  to?" 

David   chuckled   grimly.    "Sally   and   I  have 


This  incident  from  the  radio  drama 
Front  Page  Farrell  is  told  here  for 
the  JGrst  time  in  story  form.  Con- 
ceived and  produced  by  Frank  and 
Anue  Humniert,  Front  Page  Far- 
rell is  heard  Monday  through  Fri- 
day  at    5:4.i    P.M.,    F,ST.    on    NBC. 


60 


— o/nd  mmi^  Acid ^Ae  di^a/tAeiM^eciP 


found  two   women,   both   bearing   that   name." 

"Two?    What's  the  name?" 

"I  don't  want  to  say — yet.  Not  until  I  can 
prove  the  connection  with  Putnam.  But — " 
David  grinned,  deliberately  titillating  his  chief's 
curiosity.  "But  one  of  them  is  a  sixty-five- 
year-old  recluse  who  keeps  herself  hidden  in 
a  swank  apartment  on  Central  Park  West  and 
never  sees  anybody." 

Walker's  expression  altered  slightly.  The  very 
word  "recluse"  had  come  to  mean  news  lately. 
People  were  interested  —  morbidly,  George 
Walker  thought — in  the  odd  souls  who  shut 
themselves  away  from  the  world.  However,  he 
only  said  cautiously,  "Sounds  hardly  like  a 
fiancee  of  Clifford  Putnam." 

"Hardly,"  David  agreed.  "But  the  other 
person  of  that  name  is  a  very  pretty  miss  of 
about  twenty,  a  senior  at  a  fashionable  finishing 
school.  Only — ^she  claims  she's  never  even  met 
Putnam." 

"I  see,"  said  Walker  drily.  "Now  what's  your 
next  move?" 

"Not  mine,"  said  David.  "Sally's.  She  says 
this  is  woman's  work.  She  thinks,  as  I  do,  that 
the  girl  isn't  telling  the  truth,  and  she's  at  the 
college  right  now,  trying  to  talk  to  the  girl." 

"Fine!"  Briskly,  Walker  pushed  his  chair 
back  from  his  desk.  "Woman's  work — that's  it 
exactly.  And  now,  since  your  wife  is  carrying 
the  ball,  suppose  you  go  over  to  the  Hotel  De 
Oro  and  find  out  if  a  Washington  bigwig  has 
checked  in — " 

But  David  was  shaking  his  head.  "You  forget, 
George,"  he  said,  "that  I  got  beaten  up  in  con- 
nection with  this  Putnam  business.  I  can't 
imagine  what  could  happen  to  Sally  in  that 
qxiiet  little  college  town,  but  I  can't  take  any 
chances.  Until  I  know  she's  safe,  I  think  you'd 
better  give  your  important  assignments  to  some- 
body else." 

Peace  lay  as  thick  and  golden  as  the  afternoon 
sunlight  over  the  little  town  of  Fairhaven,  home 
of  Fairhaven  College.  There  were  few  auto- 
mobiles and  few  people  on  the  streets,  and  these 
few  moved  at  a  leisurely  pace;  the  very  leaves 
of  the  trees  hung  sleepily  still.  'The  one  incon- 
gruous note  was  the  taut  nervous  face  and  the 


David  Farrell  (played  by  Staats  Cotsworth) 


Sally  Farrell 
(played  by  Florence  Williams) 


quick  nervous  gait  of  Miss  Aldin  Westwood,  as 
she  walked  down  Main  Street  a  step  or  two 
ahead  of  Sally  Farrell. 

"Still  following  me,  are  you,  Mrs.  Farrell?" 
she  flung  over  her  shoulder.  "You've  trailed  me 
to  all  my  classes.  You've  waited  outside — you 
follow  me  through  town!  Don't  you  ever  get 
tired?" 

"Aldin,"  Sally  admitted,  panting  slightly, 
"I'm  exhausted!  But  I'm  not  leaving  Fairhaven 
until  I've  talked  with  you.  The  only  way  you 
can  get  rid  of  me  is  to  grant  my  very  modest 
request." 

Aldin  stopped  and  turned  so  suddenly  that 
she  almost  collided  with  Sally.  "All  right,"  she 
conceded,  "you  win,  Mrs.  Farrell.  Where  shall 
we  talk?  Here,  or  shall  we  go  to  the  Coffee 
Shop?" 

"In  your  room,  Aldin,"  said  Sally,  "if  you 
don't  mind."  That  was  what  she  wanted — to  see 
Aldin's  room  at  the  dormitory.  She  had  little 
hope  of  getting  any  information  out  of  the 
evasive  Aldin  herself.  But  Aldin's  room —  If 
Aldin  had  really  been  engaged  to  Clifford  Put- 
nam, there  would  surely  be  some  sign  of  it  in 
her  room,  if  only  so  little  a  thing  as  his  name 
on  a  dance  program. 

"I  suppose  it's  as  good  a  place  as  any,"  Aldin 
agreed.  "At  least,  you  won't  be  seen  there  .  .  . 
although  by  now  anyone  who  wants  to  must 
have  seen  you  with  me  a  dozen  times." 

"Why  don't  you  want  to  be  seen  with  me?" 
Sally  asked.  "Are  you  ashamed  of  me?  Hasn't 
my  dress  the  new  look?" 

"It  isn't  that!"  Aldin  exclaimed,  shocked, 
flushing.  Then  her  mouth  tightened  obstinately. 


R 
M 

61 


THE   SILENT   BRIDE 


"Never  mind  asking  why.  I'm  not  answering  any  ques- 
tions, Mrs.  Farrell.*' Let's  take  this  street.  It'll  take  us 
straight    to    the    dormitory." 

They  turned  into  a  residential  street  that  was  almost 
dark,  shielded  as  it  was  from  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun 
by  the  closely-spaced  old  trees.  Hardly  had  they  rounded 
the  corner  when  a  car  stopped  beside  them  and  a  man's 
voice  called,  "Taxi,  ladies?" 

"No,  thanks,"  Sally  said  politely.  Then  she  saw  that 
there  were  two  men  in  the  car.  She  saw  the  dark,  shiny 
object  one  of  them  held  in  his  hand. 

"Better  get  in,"  said  the  driver.   "And  quick!" 

Sally  touched  Aldin's  arm.  "We'd  better,"  she  said 
through  stiff  lips.   "Do  you  see  the  gun — " 

But  Aldin  was  already  moving  toward  the  car,  her  face 
paper  white.   "You  see?"  she  said  to  Sally.   "I  told  you 
I  couldn't  talk  to  you,  Mrs.  Farrell. 
I  begged  you  not  to  ask  me  to  talk. 
Now  see  what  you've  got  us  into!" 

None  of  it  made  sense  to  Sally, 
nothing  that  had  gone  before,  noth- 
ing that  followed.  As  David  Far- 
rell's  wife,  working  side  by  side 
with  him,  she'd  seen  danger;  she'd 
seen  plenty  of  crazy  mix-ups,  but 
none  so  senseless,  so  apparently  de- 
void of  motive,  as  this  one.  Even  the 
two  thugs  who  were  driving  them 
seemed  to  have  no  notion  of  what 
they  were  doing  or  where  they 
were  going.  They  idled  aimlessly 
■  along  deserted  country  roads  until 
nightfall,  and  then  they  drove  in 
circles,  it  seemed  to  Sally,  so  far  into 
the  night  that  she  had  hopes  of  their 
having  to  stop  for  gasoline.  But  in- 
stead they  stopped  finally  before  the 
dark  bulk  of  an  old-fashioned  house, 
and  she  and  Aldin  were  led  up 
flights  of  musty-smelling  stairs  and 
were  bound  securely  to  a  pair  of 
stout  but  creaky  chairs.  Then  the 
men  left  them,  and  Sally  and  Aldin 
were  left  alone  with  the  dark  and 
the  smell  of  dry  rot  and,  from  the  outside,  an  inter- 
mittent zooming  noise  that  seemed  to  shake  the  old 
house  to   its  foundations. 

"We  must  be  on  the  edge  of  an  airport,"  she  said  to 
Aldin.  "Can  you  think  of  a  town  near  Fairhaven  with 
a  busy  airport?" 

"Near  Fairhaven!"  Aldin  repeated  shakily.  "We  rode 
for  miles — " 

"In  circles,  I  would  say,"  Sally  reminded  her.  "My 
guess  is  that  we're  still  close  to  Fairhaven.  Try  to  think 
of  a  town  that  might  have  an  airport,  Aldin." 

"There's  Glendale,"  Aldin  began.  Then  she  burst  out, 
"Oh,  how  can  you  be  so  calm?  Don't  you  realize  we're 
prisoners?  And  it's  dark,  and  my  wrists  hurt,  and  I'm 
hungry,   and  those  awful  men — " 

"Don't  you  know  them?"  Sally  asked.  "You  said  I'd 
got  you  into  this  by  insisting  upon  talking  to  you;  you 
ought  to  know  what  you're  afraid  of." 

"Did  I  act  as  if  I  knew  them?"  Aldin  returned  bitterly. 
"All  I  know  is  that  I  was  warned  not  to  talk  to  re- 
porters." 

"Warned?"  said  Sally  softly.    "By  whom?" 

BUT  ALDIN  wouldn't,  couldn't  talk.  She  was  hysterical; 
she  saw  them  deserted  forever,  left  to  starve  in  the  old 
house.  Sally  entertained  no  such  gruesome  and  dramatic 
visions  about  their  fate;  she  thought  that  it  was  a  toss-up 
as  to  whether  David  found  them  first  or  whether  their 
captors,  having  gained  whatever  point  they  were  mak- 
ing in  having  Aldin  out  of  the  way  for  a  while,  arrived 
to  set  them  fr^e.  She  tried  to  convey  this  common- 
sense  viewpoint  to  Aldin,  but  Aldin  shivered  with  terror, 
and  worked  her  already  raw  wrists  against  the  ropes  in 
a  vain  attempt  to  free  them,  and  flinched  every  time 
an  airplane  roared  down  upon  the  house.  Sally  began 
to  talk  to  her  about  other  things,  soothing,  gossippy 
woman's  talk  about  her  life  with  David,  and  their  small 
son,  Jimmy,  who  was  on  a  visit  to  Sally's  mother,  and 
presently  Aldin  relaxed  a  little.  She  even  dozed,  droop- 
ing against  her  bonds  in  the  chair.    And  as  the  dawn 


f 

r 


George  Walker 
(played  by  Frank  Chase) 


light  struggled  feebly  through  the  gray  windows,  Sally's 
heart  contracted  with  pity  at  sight  of  the  sleeping  girl's 
face. 

There  wasn't  only  fear  in  it;  there  was  wistfulness, 
and  a  terrible  loneliness.  And  suddenly  Sally  felt  that 
even  helping  David  get  his  story  straight  for  the  Eagle 
was  less  important  than  helping  Aldin  to  straighten  out 
her  life.  Aldin  awoke  with  a  moan,  struggling  against 
her  bonds.    Sally  smiled  at  her. 

"Don't,"  she  said  softly.  "You  don't  have  to  worry, 
Aldin.  David's  been  on  our  trail  for  a  good  many  hours 
now,  and  he'll  soon  find  us.  After  that,  we  want  to  help 
you,  if  you'll  only  tell  us  how." 

"There's  nothing  to  tell — "  Then  suddenly  she 
switched.  "All  right,  I'll  tell  you.  What  do  you  want 
to  know  first?" 

"If  you  really  know  the  other 
Aldin  Westwood  who  lives  in  New 
York,"  Sally  answered  promptly. 

"She's  my  great-aunt,"  said  Aldin. 
"She's  about  sixty-six  years  old,  I 
think,  and  for  the  last  thirty-five 
years,  she's  never  seen  a  soul." 
"Not  even  you?" 
"Not  even  her  lawyers.  She's  rich, 
Mrs.  Farrell,  terribly  rich,  and  I 
don't  know  why  she  lives  in  such  a 
crazy  way,  but  she  does.  Her  lawyers 
pay  all  her  bills,  and  she  writes  them 
letters  whenever  she  wants  some- 
thing. She  has  an  unlisted  telephone, 
but  she  doesn't  use  it  except  on 
special  occasions,  and  nobody  knows 
the  number.  She's  been  very  gen- 
erous to  me — " 

She  hesitated.  "Yes?"  Sally  urged 
her  gently. 

"She's  been  sending  me  to  school," 
Aldin  went  on.  "I'm  not  rich,  Mrs. 
Farrell.  I'm  poor.  My  mother  died 
a  long  time  ago.  My  father  died  a 
few  years  back,  out  in  the  midwest, 
where  we  lived.  Right  afterward,  a 
man  came  to  see  me.  He  was  one  of 
my  great-aunt  Aldin's  lawyers.  He  said  that  she  wanted 
to  send  me  to  college  at  Fairhaven  and  pay  all  of  my 
expenses.  There  was  just  one  condition.  I  was  to  behave 
myself  perfectly  at  all  times  and  never  to  bring  what 
the  lawyer  called  notoriety  to  the  name  of  Aldin  West- 
wood.  Well,  I  came  to  Fairhaven,  and  I  suppose  I 
behaved  well  enough  because  Aunt  Aldin's  lawyers  paid 
my  bills  and  sent  me  checks  regularly.  And  then  at  the 
beginning  of  my  senior  year,  last  fall,  I  met  Clifford 
Putnam  at  a  dance." 

Sally  held  her  breath.  The  real  story  was  coming 
now,  and  from  the  trembling  of  Aldin's  lips  and  the  light 
in  her  face  as  she  spoke  of  Clififord,  Sally  knew  that 
however  much  she  wanted  to  talk  about  him,  it  would 
take  very  little  to  drive  her  back  into  her  shell. 

"It  wasn't  long  before  Clifford  asked  me  to  marry 
him,"  said  Aldin,  "and  I  said  yes.  I  was  so  happy,  Mrs. 
Farrell — " 

"Sally,"  said  Sally. 

"Sally,"  Aldin  agreed.  "Not  because  Clifford  is  rich — " 
Sally  nodded  understandingly,  and  Aldin  went  on,  "I 
wrote  a  letter  to  my  aunt,  telling  her  the  news. 
Clifford  must  have  told  it  to  Mr.  Farrell — to  your  David 
— about  the  same  time.  And  on  the  very  same  morning 
your  husband's  newspaper  story  appeared,  one  of  Aunt 
Aldin's  lawyers  came  to  me.  He  said  that  by  becoming 
engaged  to  Clifford  Putnam,  sooner  or  later  I  would 
bring  my  name  into  the  newspapers.  He  said  that  my 
aunt  hated  publicity  more  than  anything  else  in  the 
world.  And  he  told  me  that  I'd  have  to  break  my 
engagement  with  Clifford  before  the  newspapers  printed 
my  name,  or  my  allowance  would  be  cut  off,  and  I'd 
have  to  leave  school.   So  you  see — " 

Aldin's  voice  faltered;  she  couldn't  finish.  She  just 
looked  despairingly  at  Sally,  as  if  expecting  her  to  un- 
derstand. Sally  frowned;  the  picture,  which  had  seemed 
to  be  clearing,  had  suddenly  become  darker  than  ever. 
"But  you  didn't  need  her  money  any  more,  did  you?" 
she  asked.  "Certainly  Clifford  has  plenty—" 
Aldin  swallowed.    "Oh,  yes,"     (Continued  on  page  89) 


62 


WH 


You  too,  can  be  a 
winner  . . .  maybe.  All 
the  information  you 
need  to  start  with  is 
right  here.  After 
ail,  somebody  wins  ali 
those  golden  rewards. 
Why  should  it  always 
be  the  other  fellow? 


VERYONE,"  a  reader  complains,  "is  winning  something.  Every- 
one but  me!  It's  not  fair  that  just  the  people  in  the  big  cities, 
where  the  big  radio  programs  come  from — New  Yoi'k,  Chicago, 
and  Hollywood — should  get  all  the  prizes.  Just  to  hear  about  those 
people  marching  home  with  a  million  dollars  in  their  pockets  and 
six  electric  washers  under  their  arms  makes  me  want  to  sit  down 
and  cry.  Tell  me,  can't  we  out-of-towners  get  on  the  gravy  train?" 

Reader,  dry  your  tears!  On  the  next  four  pages  you'll  find  Radio 
Mirror's  brand  new  "Quiz  Catalogue,"  a  roundup  of  all  the  prize- 
giving  programs  on  the  air,  with  information  on  how  to  win,  at 
home  or  in  the  studio,  and  everything  else  you  need  to  know — 
except  the  answers.  Of  course,  this  is  no  guarantee  that  you'U  win, 
for  remember  all  of  the  others  who  are  listening,  and  trying.  But 
you  might  be  one  of  the  lucky  ones!  (Not  that  you'll  go  home  with 
a  million  dollars  and  six  electric  washers.  No  one  ever  has.  But 
there  are  many  valuable  prizes  being  given  away  these    days.) 

You  will  not  find  all  programs  listed.  Daytime  serials,  for  exam- 
ple, have  not  been  included  because  their  contests,  although  of 
several  weeks'  duration,  are  really  "short  term"  and  any  information 
Radio  Mirror  could  give  you  on  them  would  be  out  of  date  by  the 
time  you  read  it.  The  Quiz  Catalogue  includes  only  programs  on 
which  people  in  the  audience  can  participate  and  win;  others  have 
been  knowingly  omitted.  Empty  spaces  in  the  last  two  columns 
mean  "You  can't." 

So  choose  your  program,  sharpen  your  pencil  and  your  wits,  and 
get  to  work.  Here  are  some  bits  of  helpful  advice: 

Category  Quiz:  all  the  questions  asked  of  a  single  contestant 
concern  one  subject — usually  of  the  contestant's  own  choosing  from 
a  num.ber  of  categories  listed  by  the  program — such  as  baseball, 
cooking,  automobiles,  presidents,  or  one  of  a  thousand  others. 

Telephone  Quiz:  contestants  at  home  are  telephoned  by  the  pro- 
gram. Listen  in  and  answer  your  phone — and  the  question. 

True-False  or  Right-Wrong  Quiz:  The  only  answer  expected  is 
one  of  those  four  words,  depending  on  whether  the  statement  is 
right,  wrong,  true  or  false. 

Remember,  too,  that  if  one  of  the  traveling  quiz  shows  comes  to 
your  town,  there  is  no  "sure  way"  to  get  on  the  show.  The  programs 
are  fair,  unrehearsed,  and  everyone  has  an  equal  chance. 

In  writing  for  tickets,  these  are  the  full  addresses  of  the  net- 
works given  in  the  "Where  to  Write"  column.  Address  the  show  at: 


American    Broadcasting    Company: 

30  Rockefeller  Plaza,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Merchandise  Mart,  Chicago,  Illinois 
1440  North  Highland  Avenue,  Hollywood, 
California 

Mutual  Broadcasting  System : 

1440  Broadway,  New  York,  New  York 

Tribune  Tower,  Chicago,  Illinois 

5515  Melrose  Avenue,  Hollywood,  Cal. 


Columbia  Broadcasting  System  : 

485  Madison  Avenue,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

410  North  Michigan  Avenue,  Chicago,  111. 

Columbia    Square,    Hollywood,    California 
National  Broadcasting  Company: 

30  Rockefeller  Plaza,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Merchandise  Mart,  Chicago,  Illinois 

Sunset  and  Vine,  Hollywood,  Californiii 


Each  month.  Radio  Mirror  will  publish  a  column  of  new  infor- 
mation on  quiz  shows  to  keep  you  up  to  date;  every  six  months 
there  will  be  a  new,  revised  Quiz  Catalogue.  Good  hunting! 


QUIZ  CATALOGUE:  ANOTHER   RADIO  MIRROR   READER   BONUS 

CONTINUED >■ 


63 


mmAmcAN  i  w  i  n  ? 

MONDAY  THROUGH  FRIDAY 

TIME 

(Eastern 
Standard) 

NETWORK 

CITY 

TYPE  OF  PROGRAM 
QUIZ-STUNT-INTERVIEW 

TELL  YOUR  NEIGHBOR 

9:15  A.M. 

MBS 

NEW  YORK 

Read    letters    of    household    hints 
from   listeners 

KAY  KYSER'S  COLLEGE 

11   A.M. 

ABC 

HOLLYWOOD 

Quiz    .    .    .    Interview 

GRAND  SLAM 

11:30  A.M. 

CBS 

NEW  YORK 

Musical  Quiz:  listeners  write  ques- 
tions,  audience   answers 

i 

WELCOME  TRAVELERS 

12  NOON 

ABC 

CHICAGO 

Interview:    travelers    passing 
through   the  city 

1 

BREAKFAST  IN  HOLLYWOOD 

2  P.M. 

ABC 

HOLLYWOOD 

Interviews  of  audience  only 

DOUBLE  OR  NOTHING 

2  P.M. 

NBC 

HOLLYWOOD 

Category  quiz:   every  correct  an- 
swer  doubles   your  winnings 

QUEEN  FOR  A  DAY 

2  P.M. 

MBS 

HOLLYWOOD 

Queen  chosen  from  audience  has 
her  wishes  granted 

GOLDEN  HOPE  CHEST 

2:30  P.M. 

MBS 

HOLLYWOOD 

Quiz  for  married  women — Golden 
Hope   Chest  Jackpot 

( 

BRIDE  AND  GROOM 

2:30  P.M. 

ABC 

HOLLYWOOD 

Couple    married   on    program;    In- 
terview before  and  after 

WHAT  MAKES  YOU  TICK? 

2:45  P.M. 

CBS 

NEW  YORK 

Quiz:  contestants  "tell  all"  about 
themselves 

LADIES  BE  SEATED 

3  P.M. 

ABC 

CHICAGO 

General    Quiz — some    stunts 

HOUSE  PARTY 

3:30  P.M. 

CBS 

HOLLYWOOD 

Largely  interview — some  questions 

HINT  HUNT 

4  P.M. 

CBS 

CHICAGO 

Women    In    audience    give    house- 
hold   hints 

WINNER  TAKE  ALL 

5:30  P.M. 

CBS 

NEW  YORK 

2    contestants    compete    for    first 
correct    answer 

SATURDAY  ONLY 


64 


ABBOTT  &  COSTELLO  KID  SHOW 

11   A.M. 

ABC 

HOLLYWOOD 

Stunts    and    quiz    for    children    at 
Co«tello    Foundation 

COUNTY  FAIR 

1    P.M. 

CBS 

NEW  YORK 

Practical   jokes,  stunts,  some  quiz- 
zing 

GIVE  AND  TAKE 

1:30  P.M. 

CBS 

NEW  YORK 

Audience  quiz 

TAKE  A  NUMBER 

5  P.M. 

MBS 

NEW  YORK 

Audience  quiz 

TRUE  OR  FALSE 

5:30  P.M. 

MBS 

NfW  YORK 

"True"  or  "false"  answers  to  gen- 
eral quiz  questions 

QUI Z' 'cat A'Lb'G^U  £■:■■■■  A-N|^C>:T H,ik'^^^^^^ 

TYPES  OF 
QUESTIONS 

KINDS  OF 
PRIZES 

HOW  YOU  AT  HOME 
CAN  JOIN  IN 

WHERE 
TO  WRITE 

None 

Nominal  cash   prizes 

Write   a   letter  with   a   helpful 
household    hint 

"Tell  Your  Neighbor" 
MBS,  N.  Y. 

4    simple    questions    of    gradu- 
ated   difficulty 

Gag    prizes  from   the 
treasure  chest 

"Kay  Kysers's  College" 
ABC,   H'wood 

Group  of  five  questions  about 
songs 

Merchandise,    and    $100    bond 
for    "Grand    Slam" 

Listen;  submit  5  good  questions 

"Grand   Slam" 
CBS,  N.  Y. 

No   quiz 

None 

You     do     not     have    to     write    for 
tickets.       Held      at     College      Inn, 
Sherman   Hotel,  Chicago 

No    quiz 

Orchids 

Visit    Tom    Breneman's    Restaurant 
in  H'wood 

General     information;     also 
hard     iacltpot    question 

$2  to  $80,  and  $300  jackpot 

Listen — then   send   In   questions 

"Double   or    Nothing" 
NBC,    Hollywood 

Candidates    for    "Queen"     ex- 
plain their  wishes 

Much  merchandise,  plus 
24  hours  of  fun 

Come  to  show  if  you  want  to  be 
Queen 

"Queen    For   A    Day" 
MBS,    Hollywood 

General    information;    3     right 
answers  win  jackpot 

Merchandise 

Send   in   date   of  your  wedding — 
you   may  shore  jackpot 

"Golden   Hope  Chest" 
MBS,   H'wood 

Couple     tells     story     of     their 
courtship 

Valuable    "wedding    presents" 

Write  if  going  to   be   married   or 
know  someone  who  is 

"Bride  and  Groom" 
ABC,    Hollywood 

Psychological    quiz-study    of 
human    traits 

Merchandise 

"What     Makes    You 
Tick?"  CBS,   N.  Y. 

General    information 

Merchandise 

"Ladies  Be  Seated" 
ABC,  Chicago 

General 

Electrical    appliances 

"GE   Houseparty" 
CBS,    Hollywood 

None 

Household  gifts 

"Hint  Hunt" 
CBS,    Chicago 

Hard       general       information. 
Keep  playing  as  long  as  you  win 

Valuable   gifts — diamond 
rings,   washers,   etc. 

■ 

Attend    program  if  it  visits 
home  town 

"Winner  Take  All" 
CBS,  N.  Y. 

Games,  riddles,  children's  quiz 

Various,  appropriate  for 
children 

Listen;   sometimes  something    in 
which  home  audience  can 
participate 

No  letters 

"Where  Am  1?"  Jackpot  ques- 
tion 

Merchandise 

"County    Fair" 
CBS,   N.  Y. 

General:    "Who's  Who"   Jack- 
pot 

Merchandise 

"Give    and    Take" 
CBS,   N.  Y. 

Fact;  general  information 

Up  to  $20,000  worth 
merchandise  weekly 

Listen;  submit  questions  for  prizes 

"Take  A  Number" 
MBS,   N.  Y. 

General    information 

Cosh  prizes 

"True   or  False" 
MBS.  N.  Y. 

WH  At   CA  N    1   WIN? 

Sw*U«t^  "Pta^fiaw^ 

TIME 

(Eastern 
Standard) 

NETWORK 

CITY 

TYPE  OF  PROGRAM 
QUIZ-STUNT-INTERVIEW 

DR.  1.  Q.  (M.».) 

9:30  P.M. 

NBC 

TRAVELS 

General    quiz   of   audience 

BOB  HAWK  SHOW  im...) 

10:30  P.M. 

CBS 

NEW  YORK 

10    questions:    familiar    C-a-m-e-l: 
L-e-m-a-c  quiz 

HIT  THE  JACKPOT  (T.es.i 

10  P.M. 

CBS 

NEW  YORK 

General    quiz;    "secret    sentence" 
jackpot 

PEOPLE  ARE  FUNNY  (Tues.. 

10:30  P.M. 

NBC 

HOLLYWOOD 

Zany  stunts;    practical   jokes 

GROUCHO  MARX  <we<i.) 

9:30  P.M. 

ABC 

HOLLYWOOD 

Comedy  quiz 

BETTER  HALF  (Th.rs.) 

8:30  P.M. 

MBS 

NEW  YORK 

Comedy     quiz;     husbands     versus 
wives 

What'stheNameofThatSong  dhu.) 

8  P.M. 

MBS 

HOLLYWOOD 

Musical  identification  quiz 

LEAVE  IT  TO  THE  GIRLS  (Fri.) 

8:30  P.M. 

MBS 

HOLLYWOOD 

Hollywood    stars    discuss    women's  - 
problems 

BREAK  THE  BANK  (Fri.) 

9  P.M. 

ABC 

NEW  YORK 

Answer    8    questions    out    of   9   to 
break  the  bank 

SING  IT  AGAIN  (s.t.) 

8  P.M. 

CBS 

NEW  YORK 

Telephone    quiz;    all    over    U.S.A.; 
"mystery  voice"    jackpot 

TWENTY  QUESTIONS  (s<it.) 

8  P.M. 

MBS 

NEW  YORK 

Board    of  experts   plays  old   "ani- 
mal,    vegetable,     mineral"     game 

TRUTH  OR  CONSEQUENCES  (s.t.) 

8:30  P.M. 

NBC 

HOLLYWOOD 

Stunts;  "if  you  can't  tell  the  truth 
you    must   pay  the   consequences" 

WINNER  TAKE  ALL  (Sau 

9  P.M. 

CBS 

NEW  YORK 

Contestants    compete    against 
each  other  for  correct  answers 

WHIZ  QUIZ  (s.t.i 

10  P.M. 

ABC 

TRAVELS 

Fact  information  quiz 

SUNDAY  ONLY 


66 


QUIZ  KIDS 

4  P.M. 

NBC 

CHICAGO 

Clever  schoolchildren  quizzed 

QUICK  AS  A  FLASH 

5:30  P.M. 

MBS 

NEW  YORK 

Quiz    in    which    contestants    com- 
pete against  each  other 

STRIKE  IT  RICH 

5:30  P.M. 

CBS 

NEW  YORK 

Quiz;  human  interest 

GO  FOR  THE  HOUSE 

7  P.M. 

ABC 

N.  Y.  &  TRAVEL 

Category    quiz    of    general    infor- 
mation 

STOP  THE  MUSIC 

8  P.M. 

ABC 

NEW  YORK 

Telephone     quiz:     identify     songs 
and  mystery  melody 

TAKE  IT  OR  LEAVE  IT 

10  P.M. 

NBC 

HOLLYWOOD 

Category  quiz  of  general  informa- 
tion. Work  up  to  the  $64  question 

:  TP-^T.ISi 

QUIZ  CATAtOGUE:  ANOTHER ^^^^^R^ 

TYPES  OF 
QUESTIONS 

KINDS  OF 

PRIZES 

HOW  YOU  AT  HOME 
CAN  JOIN  IN 

WHERE 
TO  WRITE 

Fad-ual,    right    or   wrong,    and 
biography  questions 

Lots  of  silver  dollars 

Listen:  send  in   biography 
questions 

"Dr.  1.  Q." 
NBC,  N.  Y. 

General  information 

Cash  and  cigarettes 

"Bob    Hawk  Show" 
CBS.  N.  Y. 

Radio    sound    effects    simulate 
"secret  sentence" 

Thousands  of  dollars  in 
merchandise 

Send   in  your  phone  number 

"Hit  The  Jackpot" 
CBS,  N.  Y. 

None — set  out  to    prove   that 
people  are  -funny 

Valuable  merchandise;  gag 
prizes 

"People  Are   Funny" 
NBC,    Hollywood 

You  can  expect  anything  from 
Groucho 

Merchandise 

"Groucho  Marx  Show" 
ABC,  Hollywood 

General   information 

Cash  and  Merchandise 

Come  to  studio  with  your  husband 
or  wife 

"Better  Half" 
MBS,  N.  Y. 

Songs  to  identify 

Cash 

"Whafs  The   Name  Of 
That  Song,"   MBS. 
H'wood 

Human    problems;   topics   sent 
In  by  listeners 

Cash  for  letters  used 

Write,   telling   of   a    problem  that 
might  arise  in  your  home 

"Leave  It  To  The 
Girls,"    MBS,   H'wood 

Category    questions;     first 
worth  $10;  last  at  least  $1000 

Cash  only;  some  as  high  as 
$7,500 

"Break  The   Bank" 
ABC,  N.  Y. 

Contestant     identifies     person 
by  song   lyrics 

Up  to  $20,000  v^orth  of 
merchondise 

Listen:    answer   your   telephone    if 
it  rings 

"Sing    It  Again" 
CBS,  N.  Y. 

Guesses    from    clues    given    in 
previous  onsvifers 

Small  merchandise  to  listeners 
for  subjects 

Listen;   send   in   something   to 
identify 

"Twenty    Questions" 
MBS,  N.  Y. 

Gag   questions;   famous   "Miss 
Hush"   type   contests 

Merchandise;  value   $15-20 
thousand 

Listen  to  enter  "Hush"  type 
contests 

"Truth    Or   Conse- 
quences," NBC,  H'wood 

Hard   general    information. 
Keep  playing  as  long  as  you  win 

Valuable   merchandise; 
appliances,   etc. 

Attend  if  it  visits  your  home  town 

"Winner  Take   All" 
CBS,  N.  Y. 

General  information 

Merchandise 

Write  local  station  when  show 
comes  to  your  home  town 

Local   station 

All    kinds    of    questions    from 
opera  to  science 

$25  and  a  radio  to  persons 
sending   questions 

Listen;  submit  questions  to  stump 
Kids 

"Quiz  Kids" 
NBC,   Chicago 

General   information  questions 

Cash 

"Quick  As  A  Flash" 
MBS,  N.  Y. 

General       information;       con- 
testants explain  why  they  need 
money 

Up  to  $800  cash 

Write  letter  telling  why  you  want 
to  strike  it  rich 

"Strike   It  Rich" 
CBS,   N.  Y. 

7   right   answers  to   win    house 

6-room  house  and  lot, 
also  merchandise 

"So  For  The  House" 
ABC,  N.  Y. 

Music  only 

Merchandise;  $15-30 
thousand  worth 

Listen;  answer  phone  if  it  rings 

"Stop  The  Music" 
ABC,  N.  Y. 

General  information.  You  pick 
your  own  category 

$64;  much  more  if  you  win  the 
Jackpot  question 

"Take  It  or  Leave  It" 
NBC,  Hollywood 

67 


R 
M 

68 


All  Times  Below  Are  EASTERN  TIME 
For  Correct  CENTRAL  STANDARD  TIME,  Subtract  One  Hour 


■ 

^^HBJi 

Hi^^l^^l 

Li^^Kal^Br 

r                       1 

A.IVI. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 

Earl  Wild 

Carolina  Calling 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Story  to  Order 
Words  and  Music 

Tone  Tapestries 

Chamber  Music 
Society 

Sunday  Morning 
Concert  Hall 

News 

E.  Power  Biggs 

Trinity  Choir  of 
St.  Paul's  Chapel 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 
10:45 

National  Radio 

Pulpit 
Voices  down  The 

Wind 

Radio  Bible  Class 
Voice  of  Prophecy 

Message  of  Israel 
Southernaires 

Church  of  the  Air 
Church  of  the  Air 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

News  Highlights 
Solitaire  Time 

Christian  Reform 

Church 
Reviewing  Stand 

Fine  Arts  Quartette 
Hour  of  Faith 

Bill  Costello 

The  News  Matters 

Salt  Lal<e  Tabernacle 

AFTERNOONI   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Alan  Lomax 

Invitation  to  Learning 

12:15 

12:30 

Eternal  Light 

Lutheran  Hour 

People's  Platform 

12:45 

Piano  Playhouse 

1:00 

America  United 

William  L.  Shirer 

Joseph  C.  Harsch 

1:15 

Edward  "Ted" 
Weeks 

Elmo  Roper 

1:30 

Chicago  Round  Table 

American  Radio 
Warblers 

National  Vespers 

Tell  It  Again 

1:45 

Mutual  Music  Box 

2:00 

Army  Air  Force 

This  Week  Around 

Longine  Sym- 

2:15 

Show 

The  World 

phonette 

2:30 

NBC  University 

Bill  Cunningham 

Mr.  President 

You  Are  There 

2:45 

Theater 

Veteran's  Information 

Drama 

3:00 

Ernie  Lee  Show 

Harrison  Wood 

N.  Y.  Philharmonic 

3:15 

The  Future  of 
America 

Symphony 

3:30 

One  Man's  Family 

Juvenile  Jury 

Dance  Music 

3:45 

4:00 

The  Quiz  Kids 

House  of  Mystery 

Ted  Malone 

4:15 

4:30 

News 

True  Detective 

Metropolitan  Opera 

Skyway  to  the  Stars 

4:45 

Living— 1948 

Auditions 

5:00 

Jane  Pickens  Show 

The  Shadow 

Quiet  Please 

Festival  of  Song 

5:15 

5:30 

Robert  Merrill 

Quick  As  A  Flash 

David  Harding 

Strike  It  Rich 

5:45 

Counterspy 

EVENING   PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

The  Catholic  Hour 

Ozzie  Nelson,  Harriet 
Hilliard 

Roy  Rogers 
Nick  Carter 

Drew  Pearson 
Don  Gardner 
Greatest  Story  Ever 
Told 

Family  Hour  of  Stars 

The  Pause  That  Re- 
freshes on  the  Air 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Alice  Faye  and  Phil 
Harris 

Sherlock  Holmes 

Behind  the  Front 
Page 

Go  For  the  House 

Carnegie  Hall 
Musicale 

The  Jack  Benny 

Show 
Amos  'n'  Andy 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 

Charlie  McCarthy 

Show 
Fred  Allen 

A.  L.  Alexander 
Under  Arrest 

Stop  the  Music 

Sam  Spade 
Adventures  of  Philp 

8:45 

Marlowe 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Manhattan  Merry- 
Go- Round 
American  Album 

Secret  Mission 

Jimmie  Fidler 

Twin  Views  of  News 

Walter  Winchell 
Louella  Parsons 
Theatre  Guild  on 
the  Air 

Electric  Theatre 

with  Helen  Hayes 
Our  Miss  Brooks 

10:00 
10:30 

Take  It  or  Leave  It 
Horace  Heldt 

Voice  of  Strings 
Starlight  Moods 

Jimmie  Fidler 

Lum  'n'  Abner 
"Cabin  B-13" 

,1  A  ( :  K  I  E  K  ! ;  I .  K-  — is  the  squeaky- 
voiced  Homer  on  the  Henry  Aldrich 
Show,    Thursdays    at    8,    EST,    NBC. 


Cf  \!RE  NTESFN,— knew  what  she 
wanted — and  got  it.  Born  in  Arizona, 
and  raised  in  New  York,  Claire  de- 
cided very  early  in  life  to  become 
an  actress.  As  a  result  of  an  NBC  tele- 
vision show,  she  got  a  part  in  a  Broad- 
way play.  This  was  followed  by  an 
opportunity  to  play  Mary  Noble  in 
Backstage  Wife,  which  she  has  been 
doing  ever  since. 


I^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CSS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

Local  Programs 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  New 

York 
Clevelandaires 

Editor's  Diary 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Bob  Poole  Show 

breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
The  Brighter  Day 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  In  Our  Time 
Say  It  Witn  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 

Eleanor  and  Anna 
Roosevelt 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 

11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  and  Learn 
Jack  Berch 

Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Victor  Lindlahr 
Gabriel  Heatter's 

Mailbag 
Lanny  Ross 

Kay  Kyser 
Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 

Kate  Smith  Sings 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

Luncheon  at  Sardi's 

Maggi  McNeills 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

Boston  Symphony 

Cedric  Foster 

Bill  Baukhage 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Happy  Gang 

Nancy  Craig 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Jack  Kilty 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Dorthy  Dix 

The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 

Double  or  Nothing 

Queen  For  A  Day 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Today's  Children 

Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

"Get  More  Out  of 
Life" 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

David  Harum 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

Show 

Hilltop  House 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Galen  Drake 

House  Party 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Misc.  Programs 

Second  Honeymoon 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Misc.  Programs 

Ethel  and  Albert 

Winner  Take  All 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Two  Ton  Baker 

5:00 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Adventure  Parade 

Challenge  of  the 

Treasury  Bandstand 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

Capt.  Midnight 

Yukon 

5:30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Superman 

Jack  Armstrong 

The  Chicagoans 

5:45 

Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING   PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

John  MacVane 
Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
"You  and " 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 

H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 
Dinner  Date 

Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
The  Lone  Ranger 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Cavalcade  of 

America 
Voice  of  Firestone 

The  Falcon 

Casebook  of  Gregory 
Hood 

The  Railroad  Hour 
Henry  Taylor 

Inner  Sanctum 
Talent  Scouts    . 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:55 

Telephone  Hour 
Dr.  1.  Q. 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Erskine  Johnson 
Bill  Henry 

Music  of  Glenn 

Osser 
Stars  in  the  Night 

Lux  Radio  Theatre 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Contented  Program 

Fishing  and  Hunting 

Club 
Dance  Orch. 

Arthur  Gaeth 
Earl  Godwin 
On  Trial 

My  Friend  Irma 
The  Bob  Hawk  Show 

i 


^^ 


JOHN  K.  M.  McCAFFERY— the  mod- 
erator on  Author  Meets  The  Critics, 
has  been  a  professor  of  English;  editor 
at  Doubleday,  Doran;  fiction  editor  of 
American  Magazine;  and  editor  in 
charge  of  special  events  at  MGM.  John 
lives  in  Connecticut  with  wife  Dorothy 
and  their  three  sons.  He  met  Dorothy  at 
Brooklyn  College,  where  she  was  one 
of  his  students. 


^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H^^^^^H^^^^^^^^H 

A.M. 

NBC 

IVIBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

Local  Programs 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 
Clevelandaires 

Editor's  Diary 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Bob  Poole  Show 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
The  Brighter  Day 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  In  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 

Eleanor  and  Anna 
Roosevelt 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 

11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 

Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 
Gabriel  Heatter's 

Mailbag 
Lanny  Ross 

Kay  Kyser 
Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:00 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 
News 

Local  Programs 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 
Clevelandaires 

Editor's  Diary 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Bob  Poole  Show 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
The  Brighter  Day 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Club  Time 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 

11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 

Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 
Gabriel  Heatter's 

Mailbag 
Lanny  Ross 

Kay  Kyser 
Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 

Kate  Smith  Sings 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

Luncheon  At  Sardi's 

Maggie  McNeills 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

Art  Van  Damme 

Cedric  Foster 

Bill  Baukhage 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Quartet 

Happy  Gang 

Nancy  Craig 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Jack  Kilty 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Dorothy  Dix 

The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 

Double  or  Nothing 

Queen  For  A  Day 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Today's  Children 

Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

What  Makes  You 
Tick? 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

David  Harum 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

Show 

Hilltop  House 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Dixie  Barn  Dance 

Galen  Drake 

House  Party 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

Gang 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Misc.  Programs 

Second  Honeymoon 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Misc.  Programs 

Ethel  and  Albert 

Winner  Take  All 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Two  Ton  Baker 

5:00 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Adventure  Parade 

The  Green  Hornet 

Treasury  Bandstand 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

Capt.  Midnight 

5:30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Superman 

Sky  King 

The  Chicagoans 

5:45 

Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING   PROGRAMS 


6:00 

John  MacVane 

Eric  Sevareid 

6:15 

Sketches  in  Melody 

"You  and " 

6:30 

Local  Programs 

6:45 

Sunoco  News 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 

Chesterfield  Club 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Headline  Edition 

Beulah 

7:15 

News  of  the  World 

Dinner  Date 

Elmer  Davis 

Jack  Smith  Show 

7:30 

The  Smoothies 

News 

Relaxin'  Time 

Club  15 

7:45 

H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Inside  of  Sports 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 

This  Is  Your  Life 

George  O'Hanlan 

Youth  Asks  The 

Mystery  Theatre 

8:15 

Ralph  Edwards 

Show 

Government 
Earl  Godwin 

8:30 

Alan  Young  Show 

Official  Detective 

America's  Town 
Meeting  of  the  Air 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  North 

8:55 

Hy  Gardner 

9:00 

Bob  Hope  Show 

Gabriel  Heatter 

We,  The  People 

9:15 

Radio  Newsreel 

9:30 

Fibber  McGee 

Lone  Wolf 

Erwin  D.  Canham 

"Life  With  Luigi" 

9:45 

Molly 

Detroit  Symphony 

9:55 

Bill  Henry 

Orch. 

10:00 

Big  Town 

American  Forum  of 

Hit  The  Jackpot 

10:15 

The  Air 

10:30 

People  Are  Funny 

Dance  Orchestra 

Morey  Amsterdam 
Show 

12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 

Kate  Smith  Sings 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

Luncheon  At  Sardi's 

Maggi  McNellis 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

Luncheon  With  Lopez 

Cedric  Foster 

Bill  Baukhage 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Happy  Gang 

Nancy  Craig 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Jack  Kilty 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Dorothy  Dix 

The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 

Double  or  Nothing 

Queen  For  A  Day 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Today's  Children 

Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

What  Makes  You 
Tick? 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

David  Harum 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

Show 

Hilltop  House 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Galen  Drake 

House  Party 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Misc.  Programs 

Second  Honeymoon 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

The  Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Ethel  and  Albert 

Winner  Take  All 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Two  Ton  Baker 

5:00 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Adventure  Parade 

Challenge  of  the 

Treasury  Bandstand 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

Capt.  Midnight 

Yukon 

5:30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Superman 

Jack  Armstrong 

The  Chicagoans 

5:45 

Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING   PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

John  MacVane 
Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
"You  and " 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
The  Smoothies 
H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Dinner  Date 

News 

Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Lone  Ranger 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:03 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Blondie 

Great  Gildersleeve 

Can  You  Top  This 
High  Adventure 

Original  Amateur 
Hour,  Ted  Macks, 
M.C. 

Mr.  Chameleon 
Dr.  Christian 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:55 

Duffy's  Tavern 

Mr.  District  Attorney 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Family  Theater 
Bill  Henry 

Milton  Berle  Show 
Groucho  Marx  Show 

Your  Song  and  Mine 

Harvest  of  Stars 
with  James  Melton 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

The  Big  Story 
Curtain  Time 

Manhattan  Play- 
house 
Dance  Orch. 

Bing  Crosby 
Meredith  Willson 

Time's  A-Wastin'I 
Capitol  Cloak  Room 

JOAN  BANKS— was  only  a  youngster 
when  radio  writer  Prentice  Mitchell 
promised  to  help  her  when  she  grew 
up.  So,  after  high  school,  Mitchell  ar- 
ranged an  audition  for  her,  and  within 
a  week,  she  was  in  radio.  Since  then 
Joan  has  been  heard  on  Lux  Radio 
Theatre,  The  Whistler,  and  is  currently 
playing  Marie  Wilson's  friend  in  CBS's 
My  Friend  Irma. 


R 
IK 

69 


A.IV1. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 

Do  You  Remember 

8:45 

Local  Programs 

9:00 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 

Editor's  Diary 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 

9:15 

Tell  Your  Neighbor 

Barnyard  Follies 

9:30 

Clevelandaires 

Bob  Poole  Show 

9:45 

10:00 

Fred  Waring 

Cecil  Brown 

My  True  Story 

Music  For  You 

10:15 

Faith  in  Our  Time 

10:30 

Road  of  Life 

Say  It  With  Music 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 

Arthur  Godfrey 

10:45 

The  Brighter  Day 

Dorothy  Kilgallen 

11:00 

This  Is  Nora  Drai<e 

Passing  Parade 

Kay  Kyser 

11:15 

We  Love  and  Learn 

Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

11:30 

Jacic  Berch 

Gabriel  Heatter's 
Mailbag 

Ted  Malone 

Grand  Slam 

11:45 

Lora  Lawton 

Lanny  Ross 

Kiernan's  Corner 

Rosemary 

HELEN  HAYES— returned  to  the  air 
this  season  as  the  star  of  The  Electric 
Theatre  (Sundays,  9:00  P.M.  EST, 
CBS).  She  missed  the  first  few  broad- 
casts to  complete  a  London  stage  en- 
gagement of  "The  Glass  Menagerie." 
While  she  was  gone,  famous  guest  stars 
such  as  Henry  Fonda  and  Jessica  Tandy 
ably  substituted  for  her. 


AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Tiavelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 

Kate  Smith  Sings 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

Luncheon  at  Sardi's 

Maggie  McNeills 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

Luncheon  With  Lopez 

Cedric  Foster 

Bill  Baukhage  . 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Happy  Gang 

Nancy  Craig 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Jack  Kilty 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Dorothy  Dix 

The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 

Double  or  Nothing 

Queen  For  A  Day 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Today's  Children 

Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

What  Makes  You 
Tick? 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

David  Harum 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

Show 

Hilltop  House 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Dixie  Barn  Dance 

Galen  Drake 

House  Party 

3:45 

Rijht  to  Happiness 

Gang 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Misc.  Programs 

Ethel  and  Albert 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Misc.  Programs 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Winner  Take  All 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Two  Ton  Baker 

5:00 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Adventure  Parade 

The  Green  Hornet 

Treasury  Bandstand 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

Capt.  Midnight 

5:30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Superman 

Sky  King 

The  Chlcagoans 

5:45 

Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING   PROGRAMS 


6:00 

Eric  Sevareid 

6:15 

Sketches  in  Melody 

"You  and " 

6:30 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

6:45 

Sunoco  News 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 

Chesterfield  Club 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Headline  Edition 

Beulah 

7:15 

News  of  the  World 

Dinner  Date 

Elmer  Davis 

Jack  Smith  Show 

7:30 

Art  Van  Damme 

News 

Theatre  U.S.A. 

Club  15 

7:45 

Quintet 

Inside  Sports 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 

Aldrich  Family 

What's  the  Name  of 

Abbott  and  Costello 

The  F.B.I.  In  Peace 

8:15 

That  Song? 

and  War 

8:30 

Burns  and  Allen 

Jo  Stafford  Show 

Mr.  Keen 

8:45 

9:00 

Al  Jolson  Show 

Gabriel  Heatter 

Personal  Autograph 

Suspense 

9:15 

Radio  Newsreel 

9:30 

Dorothy  Lamour 

Mysterious  Traveler 

Our  Job  Is  Man- 

Crime Photographer 

9:55 

Bill  Henry 

hattan 

10:00 

Screen  Guild  Theatre 

Adventures  of  the 

Hallmark  Playhouse 

10:15 

Thin  Man 

Child's  World 

10:30 

Fred  Waring  Show 

Dance  Orch. 

First  Nighter 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

* 

Local  Programs 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 
Clevelandaires 

Editor's  Diary 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Bob  Poole  Show 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
The  Brighter  Day 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
The  Listening  Post 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 

11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 

Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 
Gabriel  Heatter's 

Mailbag 
Lanny  Ross 

Kay  Kyser 
Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Echoes  From  the 

Tropics 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Kate  Smith  Sings 

Luncheon  At  Sardi's 

Welcome  Travelers 
Maggi  McNeills 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

Milton  Katim's  Show 

Robert  McCormick 
Jack  Kilty 

Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Bill  Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 

Dorothy  Dix 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 

Today's  Children 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  For  A  Day 
Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
What  Makes  You 
Tick? 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Show 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
Galen  Drake 

David  Harum 
Hilltop  House 
House  Party 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Misc.  Programs 
Johnson  Family 
Misc.  Programs 
Two  Ton  Baker 

Second  Honeymoon 
Ethel  and  Albert 

Hint  Hunt 
Winner  Take  All 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Adventure  Parade 
Capt.  Midnight 
Superman 
Tom  Mix 

Challenge  of  the 

Yukon 
Jack  Armstrong 

Treasury  Bandstand 

The  Chlcagoans 
Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING   PROGRAMS 


R 
M 

70 


J.  CARROLL  NAISH— who  plays  the 
title  role  in  CBS'  Life  With  Luigi, 
is  familiar  to  most  movie-goers  and 
radio-listeners  as  European  because  of 
his  wide  variety  of  characterizations 
and  dialects,  but  he  was  actually  born 
in  New  York  City  of  Irish  ancestry 
and  christened  Joseph  Patrick  Carroll 
Naish.  He  pronounces  his  name 
"Nash,"  as  though  it  had  no  "i." 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

News 

Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
"You  and " 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 

H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 
Dinner  Date 

Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Lone  Ranger 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Cities  Service  Band 

Of  America 
Jimmy  Durante 

Show 

Great  Scenes  From 

Great  Plays 
Leave  It  to  the  Girls 

The  Fat  Man 
This  Is  Your  FBI 

Jack  Carson  Show 
Mr.  Ace  and  Jane 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Eddie  Cantor  Show 
Red  Skelton  Show 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Yours  For  a  Song 

Break  the  Bank 
The  Sheriff 

Ford  Theatre 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Life  of  Riley 
Sports 

Meet  the  Press 
Dance  Orch. 

Boxing  Bouts 

Philip  Morris  Play- 
house 
Spotlight  Revue 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

9:00 
9:19 
9:30 
9:45 

Mind  Your  Manners 
Coffee  in  Washington 

Paul  Neilson,  News 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Shoppers  Special 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

Garden  Gate 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 
10:45 

Mary  Lee  Taylor 
Archie  Andrews 

Albert  Warner,  News 
Misc.  Programs 

Concert  of  Ameri- 
can Jazz 
This  is  For  You 
Saturday  Strings 

Red  Barber's  Club- 

House 
Romance 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

Meet  the  Meel<s 
Smilin'  Ed  McConnell 

Movie  Matinee 
Teen  Timer's  Club 

Abbott  and  Costello 

Don  Gardiner 
Round-up  Rhythm 

Let's  Pretend 
Junior  Miss 

AFTERNOON  PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Arthur  Barriault 

Lionel  Hampton 

Junior  Junction 

Theatre  of  Today 

12:15 

Public  Affair 

Show 

Grand  Central 

12:30 

Campus  Salute 

American  Farmer 

Station 

12:45 

Frank  Merriwell 

1:00 

Nat'l  Farm  Home 

Smoky  Mt.  Hayride 

Maggie  McNeills, 

County  Fair 

1:15 

Herb  Sheldon 

1:30 

Edward  Tomlinson 

Recorded  Music 

Give  and  Take 

1:45 

Report  From  Europe 

2:00 

Music  For  The 

Time  For  Melody 

Metropolitan  Opera 

Stars  Over  Holly- 

2:15 

Moment 

wood 

2:30 

Music,  Opera 

2:45 

3:00 

Dell  Trio 

3:15 

3:30 

Local  Programs 

Music 

Local  Programs 

3:45 

4:00 

Music 

4:15 

4:30 

Local  Programs 

Charlie  Slocum 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

4:45 

First  Church  of 
Christ  Science 

5:00 

Take  A  Number 

Chuck  Foster's 

5:15 

Orch. 

5:30 

True  or  False 

Dance  Music 

Make  Way  For 

5:45 

Lassie  Show 

Youth 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


8:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

Peter  Roberts 
Art  of  Living 
NBC  Symphony 

Sports  Parade 
Bands  For  Bonds 

Speaking  of  Songs 
Jack  Beall 

News  From  Wash- 
ington 

Memo  From  Lake 
Success 

Saturday  Sports 
Review 

Larry  Lesueur 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Vic  Oamone,  Hollace 
Shaw 

Hawaii  Calls 

Robert  Hurliegh 
Mel  Allen 

Treasury  Bond  Show 

Camel  Caravan  with 
Vaughn  Monroe 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Hollywood  Star 
Theatre 

Truth  or  Conse- 
quences 

Twenty  Questions 
Life  Begins  at  80 

Famous  Jury  Trials 

The  Amazing  Mr. 
Malone 

Sing  It  Again 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Your  Hit  Parade 
Judy  Canova  Show 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Lanny  Ross 
Meet  the  Boss 

Gang  Busters 

Winner  Take  All 

It  Pays  To  Be 
Ignorant 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Day  in  the  Life  of 

Dennis  Day 
Grand  Ole  Qpry 

Theatre  of  the  Air 

Hayloft  Hoedown 

Hometown  Reunion 

National  Guard  Mili- 
tary Ball 

KARL  SWENSON— one  of  the  busiest 
actors  in  radio  today,  learned  Swedish, 
German,  and  French  as  a  child,  which 
makes  him  just  about  perfect  for  the 
title  role  in  CBS's  Mr.  Chameleon,  the 
man  of  many  faces.  He  is  also  heard  as 
Lorenzo  in  Lorenzo  Jones,  and  Lord 
Brinthrope  in  Our  Gal  Sunday. 


Stewart-Warner  is  now- 
marketing  a  good  looking,  in- 
expensive console  radio- 
phonograph  combination  that 
will  fit  in  with  many  types  of 
furnishings.  Finished  in  wal- 
nut, the  "New  Minstrel"  also 
features  the  center  panel 
slide-out  record  changer.  It 
retails  for  $149.00. 


For   the   economy-wise    buyer: 
the  adaptable  "New  Minstrel." 


An  exclusive  new  feature  on  Stromberg-Carlson 
sets  is  the  Chromatic  Tone  Selector  fey:  aid  in  tonal 
selection.  The  variable  shading  of  the  color  band 
from  red  to  blue  provides  a  guide  to  fine  adjustments 
of  the  separate  bass  and  treble  controls.  Changmg 
either  or  both  controls  to  blends  of  these  color 
schemes  gives  comparable  tone  blending  to  suit  the 
listener's  pleasure  for  any  type  of  program. 


Newest  of  the  Emer- 
son three-way  portable 
sets  is  the  model  568. 
In  addition  to  many  new 
electronic  and  engineer- 
ing features,  the  set  is 
encased  in  a  highly  pol- 
ished maroon  plastic 
cabinet,  in  modern 
"Briefcase"  design. 


Emerson's  Model  568:  with 
the    latest    improvements. 


For  those  situated  in  the  truly  rural  areas,  RCA 
Victor  has  designed  a  farm-battery  radio  for  quick 
changeover  to  electric  power.  The  set,  model  8-F-43, 
includes  as  standard  equipment  an  electrifier  unit. 
When  electricity  comes  to  an  area,  the  purchaser  can 
convert  the  battery  set  into  an  electric  radio,  by 
removing  the  battery  and  plugging  in  the  electrifier. 


U.  S.  Television's 
"Giant  Ten"  is  a  table 
model  television  re- 
ceiver with  a  10-inch 
direct  view  tube,  and  an 
actual  picture  size  of 
about  7"  by  9".  The  re- 
ceiver covers  all  13 
channels.  The  cabinet 
size  is  221/2"  wide,  19" 
deep  and  14"  high.  Price 
is  slightly  over  $400. 


U,    S.   Television's    "Giant 
Ten,"  a  bargain  for  $400.00. 


FAMIIY 
COUNSELOR 


By 

TERRY 
BURTON 


Meeting  Mrs.  Carhart,  Terry  found  an  octogenarian  whose  energy  put  neighborhood  youngsters  to  shamCi' 


REALIZING  that  everyone  anticipates  old  age,  but  few 
prepare  for  it,  I  was  determined  to  search  for,  and  find, 
an  octogenarian  who  was  doing  more  than  counting  her 
birthday  candles  and  checking  off  the  advancing  years  on 
her  calendar.  You  know,  someone  who  had  passed  the 
social  security  payment  age,  but  still  remained  active,  alert, 
and  was  perhaps  suffering  from  fallen  arches — but  not  from 
personality  degeneration. 

Well,  the  day  83-year  old  Mrs.  Georgiana  Powers  Carhart 
appeared  as  Family  Counselor  our  listeners  were  really 
in  for  a  grand  treat.  Though  her  hair  and  lashes  had 
turned  white,  and  her  complexion  showed  signs  of  lines,  her 
pretty  blue  eyes  sparkled  gaily,  and  her  smile  was  so 
engaging  that  the  members  of  our  Burton  cast  are  still 
talking  about  the  wonderful  "young"  lady. 

The  first  thing  she  told  our  listeners  was  that  we  should 
never  forget  the  importance  of  appreciation  and  gratitude. 

When  I  asked  her  if  she  had  any  regrets,  she  replied:  "No, 
Terry,  none.  This  is  my  philosophy:  Yesterday  is  a  can- 
celled check,  today  is  cash — use  it  wisely;  tomorrow  is  a 
promissory  note — make  the  most  of  it." 


Mrs.  Carhart  gave  our  listeners  a  little  advice  about 
worrying,  too,  when  she  said:  "I  know  it's  hard  to  say  stop 
worrying,  but  most  of  the  time  we  worry  about  things 
which  never  happen — or  if  and  when  they  do — we've  be- 
come so  fretful  and  worn  out  from  just  plain  worrying, 
that  we  find  we  don't  have  the  energy  and  good  judgment 
to  solve  our  problems." 

I  was  interested  in  learning  Mrs.  Carhart's  hobbies.  She 
told  me  she  liked  best  to  engage  in  talking  and  singing. 
"But  my  very  favorite  hobby,"  she  added,  "is  living  to  the 
fullest.  Staying  young  means  making  new  friends,  keeping 
interested  and  keeping  yourself  interesting." 

Her  last,  but  most  important  suggestion  for  staying  young 
was  to  act  in  a  friendly  way  and  with  kindness  i±  you 
wish  to  draw  people  to  you — "and  believe  me,"  she  quickly 
added,  "you'll  never  know  the  meaning  of  loneliness — not 
at  23,  or  83 — or  ever." 

On  The  Family  Counselor  broadcasts,  we  want  to  discuss 
problems  that  interest  our  audience.  What  would  you  like 
discussed  by  one  of  our  Family  Counselors?  Won't  you 
send  your  suggestions  to  me,  care  of  Radio  Mirror? 


Wednesday  afternoon  is  Family  Counselor  time  on  The  Second  Mrs.  Burton,  heard  Mon.-Fri.  at  2  P.M.  EST,  on  CBS. 


72 


^^;  *'"'^¥^?s^^  :k::s^." 


lour  D 


BE  generous!  Use  lots  and  lots 
of  luscious  Pond's  Cold  Cream.  It 
gives  you  softer,  thorough  cleansing. 


our lace 

reveals  your  inner  self  to  others 


Keep  your  face  lovely,  glo^ving, 
alive  so  it  sends  a  happy  message 
of  You  to  all  ^vho  see  you 

Your  face  is  the  only  you  that  others  actually  see. 
It  is  revealing  you — whether  you  know  it  or  not — 
everywhere  you  go,  every  day  of  your  life. 

Do  help  it  then  to  show  you  happily — and  with 
loveliness.  You  can.  You  should. 

Never  be  haphazard  about  the  creamings  that  do 
so  much  to  keep  your  skin  softly,  fastidiously  clean. 
A  rewarding  "Outside-Inside"  Face  Treatment  with 
Pond's  Cold  Cream  acts  on  both  sides  of  your  skin. 
From  the  Outside — the  Pond's  Cold  Cream  softens 
and  sweeps  away  surface  dirt  and  make-up  as  you 
massage.  From  the  Inside — every  step  of  this  treat- 
ment stimulates  beauty-giving  circulation. 


NOT  ONE  — BUT  Tl\  O  Pond's 
creamings.  Yes  —  the  "Cream -Rinse" 
with  Pond's  does  more  for  your  skin. 


DO  THIS— to  wake  up  the 
Loveliness  in  Your  face 

Always  at  bedtime  (and  for  your  day 
face-cleansings,  too)  do  this  "Outside- 
Inside"  Face  Treatment  with  Pond's 
Cold  Cream.  This  is  the  way: 

Hot  Stimulation — splash  face  with  hot  water. 

Cream  Cleanse — swirl  Pond's  Cold  Cream  all 
over  face.  This  softens  and  sweeps  dirt  and 
make-up  from  pore  openings.  Tissue  off. 

Cream  Rinse — swirl  on  a  second  creaming 
with  Pond's.  This  rinses  off  last  traces  of  dirt, 
leaves  skin  immaculate.  Tissue  off. 

Cold  Stimulation — a  tonic  cold  water  splash. 

Now— see  your  new  face !  It's  radiant! 

REMEMBER  — It's  not  Vanity  to  show 
yourself  at  your  best  to  others.  When 
you  look  lovely  it  makes  a  happy  differ- 
ence in  your  own  confidence.  And  it 
makes  other  people  feel  the  world's  a 
nicer  place  when  they  see  you. 


Beauty,  distinction  and  a  charming  natural  grace  come  out  to 
meet  you  in  her  challenging  face — a  face  you  turn  to  look  at  again 
and  again  because  you  can't  help  envying  its  loveliness.  The 
Lady  Daphne  uses  Pond's  to  care  for  her  beautiful  complexion. 
''The  finest  face  cream  I  know  is  Pond's  Cold  Cream,"  she  says. 


Pond's - 
Today- 


-used  by  more  women  than  any  other  face  creams, 
get   this    favorite   big  size  of  Pond's   Cold  Cream. 


R 

M 

73 


•       •       •       •       • 


Don't  be 
Half-safe! 


VALDA 


by 
SHERMAN 


R 

74 


At  the  first  blush  of  womanhood  many  mys- 
terious changes  take  place  in  your  body.  For 
instance,  the  apocrine  glands  under  your 
arms  begin  to  secrete  daily  a  type  of  perspi- 
ration you  have  never  known  before.  This  is 
closely  related  to  physical  development  and 
causes  an  unpleasant  odor  on  both  your  per- 
son and  your  clothes. 

There  is  nothing  "wrong"  with  you.  It's  just 
another  sign  you  are  now  a  woman,  not  a 
girl  ...  so  now  you  must  keep  yourself  safe 
with  a  truly  effective  underarm  deodorant. 

Two  dangers— Underarm  odor  is  a  real  handi- 
cap at  this  romantic  age,  and  the  new  cream 
deodorant  Arrid  is  made  especially  to  over- 
come this  very  difficulty.  It  kills  this  odor 
on  contact  in  2  seconds,  then  by  antiseptic 
action  prevents  the  formation  of  all  odor  for 
48  hours  and  keeps  you  shower-bath  fresh. 
It  also  stops  perspiration  and  so  protects 
against  a  second  danger— perspiration  stains. 
Since  physical  exertion,  embarrassment  and 
emotion  can  now  cause  your  apocrine  glands 
to  fairly  gush  perspiration,  a  dance,  a  date, 
an  embarrassing  remark  may  easily  make 
you  perspire  and  offend,  or  ruin  a  dress. 

All  deodorants  are  not  alike  — so  remember 
—no  other  deodorant  tested  stops  perspira- 
tion and  odor  so  completely  yet  so  safely  as 
new  Arrid.  Its  safety  has  been  proved  by 
doctors.  That's  why  girls  your  age  buy  more 
Arrid  than  any  other  age  group.  In  fact,  more 
men  and  women  everywhere  use  Arrid  than 
any  other  deodorant.  It's  antiseptic,  used  by 
117,000   nurses. 

Intimate  protection  is  needed— so  protect 
yourself  with  this  snowy,  stainless  cream  that 
smooths  on  and  disappears.  This  new  Arrid, 
with  the  amazing  new  ingredient  Creamogen, 
will  not  crystallize  or  dry  out  in  the  jar.  The 
American  Laundering  Institute  has  awarded 
Arrid  its  Approval  Seal— harmless  to  fabrics. 
Arrid  is  safe  for  the  skin— non-irritating— can 
be  used  right  after  shaving. 

Don't  be  half-safe.  During  this  "age  of  ro- 
mance" don't  let  perspiration  problems  spoil 
your  fun.  Don't  be  half-safe— be  Arrid-safe! 
Use  Arrid  to  be  sure.  Get  Arrid  now  at  your 
&vorite  drug  counter  —  only  39^  plus  tax. 


(/Javertuement) 


Traveler  of  the  Month 

(Continued  from  page  23) 


Just  like  that.  Her  sons  were  some- 
where. They  were  getting  hungry  and 
crying  in  the  night.  And  there  was  no 
way  for  their  mother  to  go  to  them. 

"All  I  could  do,"  Mrs.  De  Lonais  re- 
called, "was  to  pray  that  my  babies, 
wherever  they  were,  had  good  care,  and 
maybe  love.  It  wasn't  much,  but  that's 
all  I  could  do  for  my  boys." 

Life  goes  on,  even  with  grief.  She 
continued  working,  mainly  in  restau- 
rants. After  a  while,  the  ache  was 
duller,  but  it  became  acute,  almost  un- 
bearable, each  time  she  saw  a  little  boy 
walking  with  his  mother,  or  two  little 
brothers  walking  down  the  street  to- 
gether. 

Years,  of  this,  thirteen  of  them.  Then 
she  met  her  present  husband,  a  city 
worker  at  Pawhuska.  He  was  a  good 
man  who  understood  her  grief.  They 
were  happy  with  each  other,  and  tried 
to  forget  her  earlier  tragedy. 

Meantime,  what  of  the  boys?  Well, 
this  is  an  odd  thing. 

YOU  see,  each  knew  he  had  a  brother, 
and  each  thought  that  the  other  was 
his  twin.  It  is  trying  enough  to  miss 
your  own  brother,  but  the  feeling  of 
loss  must  be  tremendous  when  you 
think  that  life  is  keeping  you  from  your 
twin,  from  the  other  living  half  of  your- 
self. 

Though  the  boys  really  weren't  twins, 
they  led  a  twin  existence.  Roy  (he  now 
calls  himself  Roy  Rose)  was  adopted 
by  a  family  in  Oklahoma.  Coy  (the 
younger  brother,  now  Coy  Norris)  was 
taken  in  by  a  family  which  moved  to 
Dayton,  Ohio.  The  families  were  good 
people,  but  the  boys  kept  thinking  of 
their  own  people.  And  eventually  both 
boys  did  the  same  thing:  each  left  his 
adopted  home  and  wandered  around 
the  country,  looking  for  a  trace  of  his 
mother  and  brother. 

Coy  knew  that  the  secret  must  be 
locked  up,  somehow,  in  that  orphanage 
in  Oklahoma.  Three  times,  he  went  to 
the  orphanage,  trying  to  look  at  his  case 
history  for  a  clue  as  to  the  whereabouts 
of  his  brother  and  mother.  This  was 
against  the  law  for  a  minor,  however, 
and  he  never  saw  them.  But  he  kept 
looking,  and  it  was  Coy's  persistence 
which  finally  reunited  the  family. 

There  were  a  lot  of  things  that  had  to 
happen,  however,  before  that  happy 
day — things  that  the  brothers,  in  some 
uncanny  way,  were  doing  at  the  same 
time.  For  instance,  both  joined  the 
C.C.C.  In  1939,  each  went  into  the 
Army,  later  served  in  Europe.  In  1945, 
each  was  discharged.  And  later,  they 
found  out  that  each  had  been  humming 
the  same  favorite  song,  had  thought 
the  same  comedian  was  the  funniest, 
had  wanted  the  same  things  out  of  life. 

As  a  civilian,  Roy  married  and  set- 
tled down,  a  machinist,  in  Cicero, 
Illinois.  Coy  also  married,  became  an 
advertising  salesman  working  out  of 
New  York. 

Now,  twenty-three  years  after  the 
boys  had  been  put  in  a  home  "for  just  a 
few  months,"  things  began  to  happen. 
Coy,  a  veteran,  a  responsible  adult,  re- 
turned once  more  to  the  orphanage  in 
Helena.  This  time  he  was  allowed  to 
see  his  own  records.  Also,  by  chance, 
he  saw  a  part  of  his  brother's  record  and 
a  letter  which  his  mother's  mother  had 
written  to  the  orphanage.  After  all  of 
those  years.  Coy  finally  had  some  clues. " 

He  went  to  the  address  on  his  grand- 
mother's  letter,    was   directed   to    Mrs. 


De  Lonais'  address  at  Pawhuska.  Let's 
hear  the  rest  of  this  from  Mrs.  De  Lon- 
ais herself: 

"My  mother  answered  the  door  that 
morning.  I  was  in  the  kitchen.  Coy  told 
her  who  he  was.  She  didn't  tell  me 
right  away,  for  she  was  afraid  of  the 
shock.  She  sat  me  down  on  the  bed 
and  talked  slow,  roundabout,  until  she 
finally  said  that  my  boy  Coy  was  sit- 
ting out  in  the  parlor. 

"I  ran  out.  A  big,  good  looking  man 
was  there.  It  was  Coy,  all  right.  I 
could  see  the  baby  Coy  in  him.  I  cried, 
and  maybe  he  did,  too.  We  just  sat  and 
looked  at  each  other,  and  smiled  and 
smiled,  and  talked  and  talked." 

More  than  ever  now,  Mrs.  De 
Lonais  wanted  to  find  her  other  son,  to 
make  the  family  complete  again.  From 
his  glimpse  at  Roy's  record.  Coy  knew 
the  names  of  a  few  people  who  had 
given  references  for  his  brother's  origi- 
nal admission.  He  hired  a  private  detec- 
tive to  trace  these  people  down.  It  was 
slow  work,  mostly  disappointing. 

Finally,  though,  the  detective  re- 
ported that  he  had  found  the  woman 
who  had  adopted  Roy.  Coy  drove  200 
miles  one  night  to  see  this  woman.  This 
was  the  payoff.  From  her,  Coy  got 
Roy's  address  in  Cicero. 

Of  course,  there  still  was  the  possi- 
bility of  an  error.  Coy  left  his  mother 
behind,  flying  to  Cicero  himself.  Now, 
let's  get  the  story  from  Roy: 

"I  answered  my  door  and  all  of  a 
sudden  I  saw  my  brother.  I  knew  it 
was  my  brother  right  away.  We're  like 
two  peas  in  a  pod.   It  was  wonderful." 

Something  even  more  wonderful, 
however,  still  was  to  come.  For  Ma 
was  summoned  to  Cicero.  When  her 
plane  landed,  there,  waiting  for  her, 
after  twenty-three  years,  were  her  two 
sons,  her  two  sons  together,  calling  her 
"Ma." 

And  how  about  this?  Mrs.  De  Lonais, 
who,  for  so  very  long,  didn't  even  have 
any  sons,  now  has  a  grandson,  too. 
There  was  Roy,  Jr.,  a  blond  toddler, 
smiling  at  the  nice  lady  with  the  gray 
hair. 

1  GUESS  I  never  figured  on  grand- 
children," Mrs.  De  Lonais  said.  "In 
my  mind.  Coy  and  Roy  always  were 
babies.  And  you  know,  it's  a  funny 
thing.  Roy,  Jr.,  looks  just  about  the 
way  Roy  did  on  the  day  I  said  goodbye 
to  him  at  the  orphanage.  So  I've  got 
my  baby,  and  my  big  boys,  too.  Do  you 
think  there  could  be  a  happier  woman?" 

We  gave  Mrs.  De  Lonais,  Roy  and 
little  Roy  lots  of  gifts  after  they'd  an- 
swered their  Welcome  Travelers  travel 
question,  but  I  have  a  feeling  that 
there's  one  gift  in  particular  that  will 
mean  a  lot  to  this  mother.  It's  an  elec- 
tronic memory  wire  recorder.  With  it, 
she  was  able  to  record  the  voices  of  her 
sons  and  grandson.  This  will  be  some- 
thing to  play  when  she's  back  home  in 
Oklahoma.  This  time,  the  nights  may 
be  long,  but  they  won't  be  lonely. 

"Of  course,"  Mrs.  De  Lonais  said  with 
a  smile.  "I'll  go  and  see  my  boys  when- 
ever I  take  a  notion  to.  And  I  expect 
I'll  feel  like  seeing  them  a  lot.  But,  you 
know,  there's  something  even  better 
than  seeing  them.  It's  knowing  that 
they're  well,  and  fine  boys.  It's  know- 
ing that  they're  really  my  sons." 

The  long  voyage  of  this  very  Welcome 
Traveler — the  voyage  that  took  twenty- 
three  years — is  over.  From  here  on  in, 
there's  only  a  bright  and  happy  future. 


MEDiaiED  CARE  PROVES  WONDERFUL 
BEAUTY  AID  TO  FACE  AND  HANDS! 


4  Out  of  5  Women 
Showed  Softer,  Lovelier- 
looking  Skin  in  Test 
Supervised  by  Doctors 


REMARKABLE  ALL-PURPOSE  CREAM 

SHOWS  WOMEN   SIMPLE, 

EASY  AID  TO  CLEARER, 

UNBLEMISHED  SKIN 

RECENTLY,  181  women  of  all  ages 
-  took  part  in  a  careful  skin  im- 
provement test  supervised  by  3  doc- 
tors—skin specialists!  The  women  had 
many  common  skin  troubles  —  rough- 
ness, dryness  or  skin  blemishes. 

The  doctors  explained  a  new  4-step 
Medicated  Beauty  Routine  using  fa- 
mous Noxzema  Medicated  Skin 
Cream.  Each  woman's  skin  was  exam- 
ined through  a  magnifying  lens  at 
7-day  intervals. 

Here  are  the  astonishing  results :  Of 
all  these  women  tested,  4  out  of  5 
showed  softer,  smoother,  lovelier- 
looking  skin  in  2  weeks— were  thrilled 
at  the  marked  improvement  that  this 
beauty  routine  helped  bring  to  their  skin! 

If  you  want  an  aid  to  a  softer, 
smoother  skin  ...  if  you  suffer  the 
heart-breaking  embarrassment  of  un- 
attractive, externally -caused  blem- 
ishes, roughness,  dryness  or  similar 
sldn  troubles— fry  Noxzema  Medicated 
Care.  It's  a  simply  grand  new  way  to 
care  for  your  face  and  hands. 


Softer,  Whiter  Hands 
—  Almost  Overnight 


Do  your  hands  look  red,  feel  raw 
and  rough?  Smooth  on  Noxzema. 
See  how  quickly  this  medicated 
fonnula  soothes  and  helps  heal— 
helps  red, rough  chappedskinlook 
softer,  whiter— often  in  24  hours. 


SIMPLE    4-STEP    BEAUTY   AID 

Don't  just  cover  up  a  poor  complex- 
ion. Don't  try  to  hide  flaws.  Give  your 
skin  the  glorious  aid  of  Noxzema 
Medicated  Care. 

1.  MORNING  — Bathe  face  with  warm 
water,  then  apply  Noxzema  to  a  wet  cloth 
and  "cream-wash"  your  face. 

2.  Apply  Noxzema  as  a  soothing  protec- 
tive powder  base  to  hold  make-up. 


3.  EVENING  —  Repeat  morning  cleansing 
with  Noxzema.  Dry  face  gently. 

4.  Massage  Noxzema  lightly  into  your 
face.  Pat  on  extra  Noxzema  over  blem- 
ishes, if  you  have  any. 

Try  this  4-step  routine  yourself.  You'U 
be  deUghted  with  the  results. 


"Our  family  doctor  recom- 
mended Noxzema  for  adoles- 
cent blemishes,"  writes  lovely 
Mrs.  H.  Hiestand.  "Now  I'm 
married  and  still  use  Nox- 
zema regularly  at  night  to 
help  keep  my  skin  clear  and 
unblemi^iied." 


Mrs.  lee  Smith  says,  "I  do  my 
own  housework.  You  know 
what  that  does  to  your  hands. 
I've  never  found  anything 
better  for  chapped  hands 
than  Noxzema.  Now  I  use  it 
as  both  a  complexion  and 
hand  cream." 


Try  Noxzema  and  see  why  over 
25,000,000  jars  are  sold  yearly.  Now 
on  sale  at  all  drug  and  cosmetic  coun- 
ters-only 40^,  60^  and  $1.00  plus  tax. 


75 


Come  and  Visit  Lum  'n'  Abner 


(Continued  from  page  33) 


signs  all  over  the  door — "Scram,  This 
Mens  You,  and  Leat  Me  Sleep"  and  "Do 
Not  Enter,  Genus  at  Work" — are  warn- 
ing enough.  With  Chet  away,  you  can 
get  a  look  at  an  awe-inspiring  collec- 
tion of  sports  equipment,  electrical  toys, 
and  magic  sets  which  his  mother  says 
are  left  strictly  in  the  messy  way  he 
likes  them. 

In  Nancy's  room  a  half-finished 
painting  is  on  the  easel — Nancy  is  an 
art  major  at  Beverly  High  School — and 
her  Mina  bird,  Jim,  makes  up  for  his 
mistress'  absence  by  singing  for  you  his 
version  of  "In  a  Little  Spanish  Town." 

The  Laucks'  own  bedroom  is  vast  and 
comfortable,  with  blue  and  white  chintz 
on  the  white  canopied  beds  and  a  blue 
chaise  drawn  up  to  the  window  for  a 
better  view  of  the  handsome  syca- 
mores. 

CHET'S  collection  of  guns  is  only  par- 
tially ornamental.  He  is  a  skeet  shoot- 
er of  some  prowess — Harriet  doesn't  do 
so  badly  herself — and  has  a  row  of 
trophies  to  prove  it.  Chefs  real  passion, 
however — next  only  to  his  work,  which 
has  always  come  first — is  his  orchids, 
and  he  can't  wait  to  take  you  out  to  see 
them. 

He  started  growing  the  rare  blooms 
only  because  the  former  owner  of  the 
house  left  a  plant,  and  he  didn't  want 
to  see  it  die.  Now  he  has  all  varieties 
and  grows  them  with  great  success. 

"Sold  fifteen  hundred  dollars'  worth 
last  year,"  he  will  tell  you  with  school- 
boy pride.    "Enough  to  pay  our  taxes." 

As  an  absentee  owner,  he  takes 
somewhat  less  pride  in  his  143,000-acre 
cattle  ranch  in  Nevada,  although  he  and 
Harriet  plan  to  spend  much  more  time 
there  after  a  ranch  house — now  under 
construction — is  completed. 

They  do  a  lot  of  entertaining  in  a 
casual  way.  Harriet  says  they  tried 
once  or  twice  to  give  big  parties  in  the 
Hollywood  manner,  and  think  their 
guests  probably  enjoyed  themselves. 
But  the  Laucks  didn't.  They  didn't  have 
time.  So  now  they  have  small  dinner 
parties,  which  they  serve  buffet  style — 
with  no  more  than  ten  or  twelve  peo- 
ple who  know  one  another  well  and 
have  a  lot  in  common. 

If  the  weather  is  good,  Chet  will  roll 
the  portable  barbecue  into  the  patio  and 
broil  a  lot  of  stripper  steaks,  Harriet 
mixes  an  enormous  salad  and  they  both 
still  have  time  to  get  in  on  the  good 
talk. 

The  fabulous  Corny  Stroubies,  of  the 
Texas  oil  Stroubies,  are  frequent  vis- 
itors— Corny  sent  Chet  an  elephant  for 
a  present  last  Christmas! 

The  welcome  mat  sees  a  great  deal  of 
service  at  the  Goff  farm,  too,  although 
during  the  past  year  because  of  Tuffy's 
serious  illness — he  underwent  major 
surgery  last  spring  in  Kentucky — they 
have  had  to  live  very  quietly. 

Tuffy's  sense  of  humor  and  his  wife 
Elizabeth's  fresh  beauty  and  charm  are 
a  legend  in  Hollywood,  however,  and 
there  are  many  who  agree  that  their 
wonderful  white  board  and  stone  farm 
house  is  the  prettiest  place  in  Cali- 
fornia and  the  Goffs  the  nicest  people. 

At'  the  bottom  of  the  hill  are  the 
stables,  where  Tuffy  and  Liz  and  the 
children  keep  their  riding  horses — ten- 
year-old  Gretchen  already  has  ridden 
her  five-gaited  "Duchess"  in  four  horse 
shows  and  has  brought  home  a  trophy 
each  time. 

The  Gofi^s  chose  their  home  site  ten 


years  ago,  chiefly  for  a  half  dozen  an- 
cient trees  which  dramatized  its  rolling 
contours.  A  year  later  a  mysterious 
blight  killed  the  old  oaks,  and  they  had 
to  be  removed.  Grieved,  but  not  des- 
pairing, Tuffy  brought  in  a  dozen  seed- 
ling pepper  trees  in  gallon  tins — they 
cost  a  fancy  fifty  cents  apiece,  he 
brags.  He  set  them  out  in  a  graceful 
arch  along  the  drive  to  the  house,  and 
they  now  are  almost  as  spectacular  as 
their  predecessors. 

The  house  itself  is  delightful — and 
you  can  wander  through  the  big,  bright 
rooms  without  finding  a  single  conces- 
sion to  convention. 

Fireplaces  in  every  room — the  Goffs 
love  them — and  one  room.  The  Lazy 
Corner,  which  is  hardly  more  than  a 
fireplace-with-couch.  It's  wonderful  for 
hiding  away  with  a  book,  Liz  says,  on 
rainy  days. 

The  dining  room  table  is  enormous.  |{ 
Liz  likes  her  guests  to.  be  able  to  sit  f 
down  comfortably  for  dinner.  The 
kitchen  boasts  a  copper  hooded  grill, 
where  Tuffy  himself  is  accustomed  to 
superintending  the  cooking  of  the 
steaks. 

The  Goffs'  children  go  to  the  valley 
public  schools,  Gretchen  to  Encino 
grammar  school,  Gary  to  Canoga  Park  ■ 

High.  ;. 

Gary  is  a  drummer,  admired  by  the  ' 
best — the  best  in  his  own  eyes  being  ' 
Neighbor  Phil  Harris. 

Gretchen's  hobby  is  riding,  but  since 
Duchess  can't  be  kept  in  her  room,  she 
can  house  her  doll  house,  dolls  and  pet 
pigeon  with  little  jostling. 

THAT  pigeon  is  a  household  legend. 
Gretchen,  her  father  says,  has  a  way 
with  animals  which  is  almost  eerie. 
The  pigeon  fiew  in  one  cold  night,  and 
Gretchen  made  it  welcome — put  it  to 
bed  and  covered  it  up.  It  has  never 
left — for  long. 

She  has  a  way  with  the  cook  too,  and 
causes  no  domestic  crises  at  all  when 
she  decides  to  spend  the  day  making 
gingerbread  men  or  brownies.  For  a 
ten-year-old,  she  is  very  competent, 
and  the  cook  beams  whenever  Gretchen 
emerges  with  something  edible. 

Tuffy  and  Liz's  own  bedroom  is  big 
and  casual  like  the  other  rooms  in  the 
house,  with,  of  course,  its  own  fireplace. 
One  corner  of  the  room  is  decorated  as 
a  sitting  room  and  saw  lots  of  service 
last  summer  when  Tuffy  did  most  of  his 
entertaining  from  his  bed.  Liz  has  used 
some  of  her  fine  antiques  from  the  j 
Mother  Lode  country  in  this  room — 
a  hundred-year-old  child's  wagon  1 
equipped  to  hold  plants  and  a  coffee 
tray  are  delightful  touches. 

Upstairs  as  elsewhere,  Liz  has  em- 
phasized clear,  vivid  colors  and  cot- 
ton materials  which  she  feels  are 
"homey."  No  one  who  has  seen  the 
effect  would  argue  about  that. 

Like  his  partner,  Chet  Lauck,  Tuffy 
has  gone  in  for  ranching  on  the  side  and 
last  year  grew  a  record  crop  of  rice  on 
his  2,000-acre  Sacramento  valley  farm. 
The  crop  won  a  prize  at  the  state  fair, 
and  none  of  the  neighboring  farmers 
realized  that  the  Norris  Goff  who  car- 
ried off  the  blue  ribbon  was  the  fellow 
they  know  as  Abner  on  the  radio. 

They  are  friendly  simple  people,  the 
Laucks  and  the  Goffs,  Arkansas'  ambas- 
sadors of  good  will  in  Hollywood. 

It's  a  pity  that  their  kind  of  good  liv- 
ing is  so  often  overlooked  when  our 
town  gets  its  name  in  the  papers. 


This  little  girl  went 
to  the  beauty  shop 


This  little  girl  spent 
2  hours  at  home 


. . .  and  this  little  girl 
got  lasting  waves 

in  an  instant! 


The  original  "curls  in  j  Lap\ulc" 


Dissolve    capsule 
contents  in  4  oz. 
'•  (half  glass)  hot 
water. 


Comb  solution  gen- 
erously through 
"  dry  hair.    (Best 
after  shampoo.) 


Set,  allow  to  dry. 
Comb  out  for  last- 
waves  and 
curls! 


Copyright  1948,  Beauty  Factors,  Inc. 


makes  permanents  unnecessary 

Never  before  Insta-Curl  could  you  comb  your  hair  into  last- 
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capsule  with  perfect  safety.  Even  more  miraculous  —  the 
longer  you  use  Insta-Curl,  the  lovelier,  more  glamorous  and 
^naturally  curly  your  hair  becomes! 

Leading  laboratories,  including  those  of  America's  most 
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tains no  sulphur,  resin,  alum  or  other  harmful  ingredients. 
So  for  shimmering  waves  that  las(  and  glorious  curls  that 
stay,  get  Insta-Curl.  Improves  old  or  new  permanents.  Curls 
all  types  of  hair!  Grand  for  the  fine,  soft  hair  of  children. 
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R 
M 

77 


R 

M 

78 


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in  sizes  for  all  needs  up  to 
16   ft.  seamless,    any 
length,  in: 

Solid  Colors      Florals 

Two-tones  Ovals 

Tweeds  Leaf 

Early  American, 

Oriental  Designs 


FAaORY^°„ 


Our  75f/i  Year'. 

We  guarantee  to 

please,    or    pay    for 

your  material.  Over 

2  million  customers. 

We  do  not  sell  thru 

stores  or  agents. 

Write  today  for  the 
beautiful  40  page 
Olson  Book  of  rugs, 
model  rooms  and 
decorating  hints. 
Chicago    New  York    S.  Frisco 

I    Please  mail  the  u'»  ^ 

I MAWE— — "^  — 

I  ADDRESS. 


I  ADDRtia^ ST  ATE--  i-i"- . 

'town — -":""i;  •■—"-•  —  "■"■'"©  oBc  i9« 

i«  «•  • '"  " 


The  Biggest  Break 

{Continued  from  page  27) 


to  put  down  on  paper.  I  think  that 
maybe  the  best  way  for  me  to  tell  my 
story  is  from  the  money  angle,  because 
I  guess  just  about  everybody  has 
money  troubles  at  the  start,  and  it 
might  be  useful  to  other  singers  to 
know  how  it  worked  out  in  my  case. 

I  was  born  in  East  St.  Louis,  Illinois, 
on  December  28,  1926.  I  have  one 
brother,  three  years  older  than  I.  My 
parents  separated  when  I  was  eight 
and  my  mother  brought  us  up,  work- 
ing as  a  cashier  and  saleslady.  While 
we  did  not  have  any  money  for  extras, 
we  always  had  plenty  of  wonderful 
food  and  plenty  of  encouragement. 
My  mother  is  the  kind  who  says,  "If 
you  want  it,  I  am  for  it.  What  can  I 
do  to  help  you?" 

So,  when  I  started  singing  to  myself 
when  I  was  about  six,  she  bought  me 
all  kinds  of  records  so  that  I  could 
sing  along  with  people  who  know  how. 
We  didn't  have  a  piano  and  could  not 
have  afforded  lessons  if  we  had,  so  I 
got  my  first  real  music  training  in  the 
tenth  grade  at  East  Side  High. 

WE  HAD  a  wonderful  teacher,  Rose 
Mary  Greene  Brinson,  who  was  so 
good  that  our  choral  group  won  top 
spot  in  the  state  competitions.  She 
took  private  pupils,  too,  me  among 
them,  but  she  gave  me  all  of  my  les- 
sons free.  She  worked  me  in  between 
pupils  who  paid.  I  realize  now  that 
she  gave  me  time  many  afternoons 
when  she  was  tired  and  when  it  couldn't 
have  been  too  much  fun  going  over 
and  over  diction  and  breathing  and 
placement  exercises  with  a  kid  who 
had  no  way  of  paying  her. 

I  started  working  in  the  summers 
when  I  was  fifteen.  I  delivered  gro- 
ceries and  answered  the  phone  in  the 
stock  yard  .  .  .  things  like  that.  In  the 
winter,  I  sang  with  a  high  school  band 
that  got  occasional  dates  to  play  for 
dances,  and  when  I  was  sixteen  I  sang 
for  five  dollars  in  a  club  on  Saturday 
nights. 

After  I  graduated  from  high  school, 
I  took  a  big  step  and  went  to  Holly- 
wood. 

I  didn't  have  any  idea  of  getting  into 
the  movies.  What  I  hoped  for  was  to 
get  a  club  date  and  work  up  to  a  net- 
work show.  I  picked  Hollywood  in- 
stead of  New  York  because  my  brother 
was  out  there.  He  had  just  got  out  of 
the  Marines  and  was  restless. 

My  first  job  on  the  Coast  was  as  a 
messenger  boy  for  a  steamship  com- 
pany in  Los  Angeles.  This  took  all  day 
long  and  kept  me  out  of  Hollywood, 
so  I  got  a  job  as  doorman  at  the  Mar- 
cal  Theater  on  Hollywood  Boulevard 
near  Vine.  That  left  me  free  in  the 
daytime  to  go  around  to  see  agents. 

Seeing  agents  is  discouraging.  Some- 
times I  think  it's  harder  to  get  a  good 
agent  when  you  are  unknown  than  it 
is  to  get  a  job.  Everywhere  I  got  the 
same  question.  "What  have  you  done?" 

There  are  hundreds  of  young  singers 
after  agents  all  of  the  time.  Natural- 
ly they  take  on  only  the  people  who 
have  something  started  for  themselves. 
Just  the  same,  I  kept  after  them. 

I  made  twenty-four  dollars  a  week 
as  doorman  at  the  Marcal.  Working 
there  wasn't  a  bit  like  work.  It  was 
all  fun.  There  was  a  great  gang  of 
boys  and  girls  and  I  made  some  real 
friends  right  away.  I  couldn't  afford 
to  go  to  any  of  the  famous  night  clubs, 
but  we  could  dance  at  the  Palladium 


and   get   a   bus   to   Santa   Monica   and 
go  swimming. 

My  brother  had  a  room  in  a  private 
home  near  Griffith  Park.  It  cost  me 
only  four  dollars  a  week  to  stay  there. 

During  this  time  I  got  my  first  chance 
at  a  big  network.  I  got  an  audition  at 
CBS.  Nothing  came  of  it,  but  they 
were  very  nice.  They  said  my  voice 
was  all  right  but  that  I  needed  to  de- 
velop a  style  of  my  own.  That  sent  me 
back  to  the  Marcal  thinking.  "Now 
what?  What  can  I  do?  All  the  styles 
have  already  been  developed!" 

The  only  change  I  could  think  of 
was  to  pay  a  lot  of  attention  to  the 
words  of  every  song  and  sing  them 
with  as  much  meaning  as  if  I  were 
telling  some  one  person  a  story.  After 
I  had  been  practicing  along  those  lines 
for  a  few  months,  I  entered  an  ama- 
teur contest  at  the  Million  Dollar 
Theater  and  won  a  week's  contract.       _ 

That  was  great.  I  was  on  a  stage  and  I 
singing  to  an  audience.  I  could  not  wait 
to  get  down  to  the  theater  every  day, 
and  the  week  went  by  like  a  flash.  It 
was  a  great  break,  but  an  even  better 
one,  though  I  did  not  know  it  at  the 
time,  was  when  a  man  named  Ritchie 
Lisella  came  backstage  to  see  me. 

He  knew  a  great  deal  about  bands 
and  singers  and  radio.  He  had  been 
with  Frank  Sinatra  and  Jimmy  Dorsey 
and  he  came  back  to  look  me  over 
and  see  if  I  had  a  manager.  I  had  heard 
hair-raising  tales  about  singers  who 
signed  up  with  managers  and  had  to 
pay  them  percentages  for  years  after-  • 
ward  whether  they  did  anything  or  ' 
not,  so  I  said,  "I  won't  sign  with  you 
or  anyone  else  until  you  show  me  what 
you  can  do  for  me." 

Considering  all  that  Ritchie  has  done 
for  me  since,  that  was  definitely  fan- 
tastic, but  he  just  grinned  and  went 
out  and  got  me  a  screen  test  at  20th 
Century-Fox.  It  was  a  big  day  for  me 
when  we  went  out  to  that  enormous  lot. 
I  looked  around  everywhere  for  Dick 
Haymes,  who  is  one  of  my  favorites, 
and  I  was  full  of  those  day  dreams 
that  everyone  gets  about  singing  one 
song  and  being  signed  right  away  and 
going  to  work  with  stars  I  had  seen 
only  on  the  screen.  It  didn't  work  out 
that  way.  I  photographed  too  young. 
So  I  went  back  to  the  Marcal.  But 
Ritchie  was  not  discouraged. 

"I'VE  got  an  idea,"  he  said,  and  took  me 
1  to  a  recording  studio  to  cut  a  record 
of  my  voice.  This  he  sent  to  Jimmy 
"Dorsey  who  was  playing  in  Sandusky, 
Ohio,  and  I  went  back  to  the  Marcal 
wondering  if  I  were  ever  going  to  get 
started. 

I  didn't  have  long  to  wait.  Things 
began  to  happen  in  a  hurry  when  they 
started.  The  featured  singer,  Bob 
Carroll,  was  leaving  Dorsey's  band, 
and  he  wired  Ritchie  to  send  me  along 
immediately. 

We  left  on  two  days  notice.  The 
manager  at  the  Marcal  didn't  make 
any  trouble  about  my  leaving  with- 
out notice.  He  knew  that  a  job  with 
Dorsey  was  a  break  of  a  lifetime,  and 
he  seemed  just  as  pleased  as  all  of  the 
rest   of  my  friends. 

"Get  going,"  he  said.  "Good  luck 
and  come  back  famous." 

Dorsey  wanted  his  big  new  '47 
:Buick  station  wagon,  so  we  drove 
back  in  style.  Ritchie  drove  it  for  two 
days  and  two  nights  without  stopping 
anywhere  at  all  (Continued  on  page  80) 


^aYcn^  7D/sco\/er/ee 
in  ^/cfh  (B^rc^ 


l/Vooc/6uru  Lyeu/xe  /^^  Creams 

sue/)  Seou^ -/or  you/ 


/fifrodaein^ 


Your  skin  .  .  .  ravishing! .  .  .  with 
these  new-formula  Woodbury  De  Luxe 
Face  Creams!  Science's  newest 
secrets  ...  in  six  exquisite  beauty 
aids.  Incomparable  cleaner  cleansing! 
Superb  richer  softening !  Veil-of -flattery 
finishing  creams!  Each  of  unsurpassed 
quality.  Jars  come  dressed  in 
pink-and-gold  elegance,  at 
welcome  moderate  prices. 


Woodbury  De  Luxe  Cold  Cream 
cleanses  skin  the  cleanest  ever. 

Truly,  Penaten  is  a  miracle  cleansing 
aid!  Penaten  penetrates— lesiches 
deeper  into  pore  openings.  Quickly 
seeps  tlirough  make-up  tints. 
Amazingly  thorough— thoroughly 
gentle.  Your  skin  looks  clearer,  because 
it's  cleaner.  Your  first  jar  will  prove, 
Woodbury  De  Luxe  Cold  Cream  — 
with  Penaten— truly  glorifies  your  skin! 

r 

C^Woodbury  De  Luxe  Dry  Skin  Cream 
smooths  skin  the  softest  ever! 

Magically,  Penaten  aids  the  penetration 
of  smoothing  emollients.  Carries 
lanolin's  rich  benefits  deeper,  softening 
tiny  dry  lines.  Smooths  flaky 
roughness  — on  the  instant.  Skin  looks 
fresher,  younger .  .  .  lo\"el3'  to  see ! 


From  trial  jars  20^,  to  luxury  jars  >sl.30  plus  tax. 


Woodbury  De  Luxe  Liquefying 
Cleansing  Cream— contains  Penaten! 
Particularly  effective  for  cleansing 
oily  or  normal  skin.  Melts  instantly. 
Loosens  clinging  grime,make-up,sur- 
face  oil.  Night  and  morning  use  heli^s 
keep  skin  clearer,  younger-looking. 


Woodbury  De  Luxe  Vanishing 
Facial  Cream  — For  Glamorous 
Make-Up:  Greaseless,  disappearing. 
A  thin  veil  makes  even  oily  skin  look 
dewy.  For  a  Beauty  Pick-up:  Apply 
lavishly  to  soften  skin  particles.  Tis- 
sue off.  Skin  looks  fresher,  younger. 


Woodbury  De  Luxe  Powder  Base 
Foundation  Cream  — Petal -Tinted: 
Adds  glow  to  any  powder  shade. 
Veils  dry  or  normal  skin  in  satin- 
textured  base  that  holds  make-up. 
Helps  hide  blemishes.  Apply  spar- 
ingly—smooth over  face,  throat. 


Woodbury  De  Luxe  Complete  Beauty 
All-Purpose  Creom  —  Pink-Tinted: 
Penaten  makes  this  De  Luxe  AIl- 
Purpose  Cream  more  effective— for 
complete  skin  care,  day  and  night. 
Cleanses  deeper.  Softens  superbly. 
Provides  a  clinging  make-up  base. 


When  your  young  buckaroo  upsets 
the  ashstand  on  your  freshly  cleaned 
rug  .  .  .  don't  scream.  Run  for  your 
new  Bissell  Sweeper  .  .  . 

And  whistle!  Bissell  Carpet  Sweep- 
ers now  have  "Bisco-matic"*  Brush 
Action  for  the  easiest  clean-ups  ever  I 


You  don't  have  to  press  down  at  all. 
This  miracle  brush  adjusts  itself 
automatically  to  every  rug  nap, 
thick  or  thin  .  .  • 

Even  cleans  under  low  furniture,  with 
the  handle  held  flat!  Save  your  vac- 
uum for  periodic  cleaning  .  .  .  use  a 
new  "Bisco-matic"  Bissell®  for 
quick  everyday  clean-ups.    It  pays ! 


Illustrated:  The  "Vanrty"  at  $8.45.  Other 
models  from  $6.45.  All  with  "Bisco-matic" 
Brush  Action,  easy  "Flip-O"  Empty,  and 
"Sta-up"  Handle. 


"Bissell 
Sweepers 


The  Bissell  Carpel  Sweeper  Co. 
Grand  Rapids  2,  Michigan 


m 
80 


•Res.  U.  S.  Pat.  Off.  BiBsell'B  pat- 
ented fall  aprinff  controlled  brush 


{Continued  from  page  78)  for  sleep  be- 
cause we  had  already  run  out  of  time. 
I  was  tired  just  sitting  there,  so  -you 
can  imagine  how  Ritchie  felt,  having 
been  at  the  wheel. 

We  arrived  at  Sandusky  at  9  P.M. 
and  while  my  suit  was  being  pressed 
I  took  a  shower.  It  is  sort  of  interest- 
ing about  that  suit.  It  was  a  dark  blue 
one  that  I  might  not  have  had  if  my 
best  girl  had  not  twisted  my  arm.  She 
worked  at  the  Marcal  after  school.  We 
were  in  love,  though  we  could  not 
think  seriously  of  marriage  because  I 
was  nineteen  and  certainly  couldn't 
take  care  of  a  wife  on  a  doorman's 
salary.  She  is  a  wonderful  girl — 
brunette,  a  great  sense  of  humor,  in- 
terested in  music,  and  down-to-earth. 
She  certainly  was  about  that  suit. 
Naturally,  she  wanted  me  to  take  her 
to  the  senior  class  dance  when  she 
graduated,  and  I  felt  funny  about  it 
because  I  did  not  have  a  dark  suit. 
She  had  saved  up  some  money,  and 
she  insisted  on  lending  it  to  me.  We 
argued  for  two  days,  and  finally  I  gave 
in  and  got  it.  It  took  me  two  months 
to  pay  her  back,  but  I  certainly  was 
glad  that  she  had  talked  me  into  get- 
ting it  when  I  put  it  on  that  night  in 
Sandusky. 

Dorsey  was  playing  in  an  amusement 
park  on  a  little  island.  As  we  drove 
over,  I  was  wondering  if  I  could  sing  at 
all.  It's  tough  enough  making  a  first 
appearance  with  a  great  band  under  the 
best  of  circumstances,  but  it  is  really 
tough  if  you  haven't  had  any  sleep  for 
two  days  and  two  nights.  I  sang  "Time 
After  Time"  for  my  first  number.  I 
didn't  even  look  at  Dorsey.  I  didn't  dare. 
I  just  concentrated  on  the  audience, 
trying  to  get  all  of  the  meaning  I  could 
into  the  song.  If  he  didn't  like  my  style, 
I  didn't  want  to  know  it  then.  I  just 
thought,  "I'm  singing  with  a  big  time 
band.    I've  got  to  go  over!" 

So  it  was  a  big  moment  when  I  found 
out  that  everything  was  all  right  and 
that  I  was  going  to  travel  with  the  band 
and  get  $100  a  week.  Working  for 
Dorsey  was  the  big  thing,  but  I  also 
thought  he  was  paying  me  all  of  the 
money  in  the  world.  I  went  back  to  the 
hotel  and  fell  asleep  happier  than  I  had 
ever  been  in  my  life,  and  slept  the  clock 
around. 

Ritchie  had  been  paying  all  of  his 
expenses  so  far.  When  I  started  to  talk 
to  him  about  a  percentage  of  my  fat 
salary,    he    sort    of    grinned    and    said, 

"I'm  not  going  to  take  any  percentage 
yet.  You're  going  to  need  all  of  it 
yourself." 

I  thought  he  was  crazy.   After  living 


on  $24  a  week,  I  thought  I  was  in  the 
money  with  four  times  that  much.  But 
I  soon  found  out  that  it  was  harder  to 
get  by  on  $100  a  week  on  the  road  than 
it  was  to  meet  expenses  on  $24  a  week 
in  Hollywood. 

I  don't  know  whether  this  will  be 
interesting  to  everybody,  but  it  ought 
to  be  to  other  young  singers  who  are 
getting  started. 

When  you  are  traveling  with  a  band, 
reservations  are  made  for  you  in  ad- 
vance and  you  all  stay  at  the  same 
hotel.  That  means  you  pay  out  on  the 
average  of  four  dollars  a  night  for 
lodging.  I  like  good  food,  and  I  guess 
everybody  my  age  likes  a  lot  of  it. 
Anyway,  I  never  tried  to  save  on  food. 
My  mother  had  always  pounded  it  into 
us  that  good  food  and  plenty  of  it  is  an 
economy  because  it  keeps  you  healthy. 
So  that  costs  around  six  dollars  a  day 
because  you  have  to  eat  in  trains  and 
hotels.  "Then  you  have  a  big  laundry 
bill  because  you  have  to  have  things 
done  in  a  hurry,  and  there  are  endless 
cleaning  and  pressing  bills,  tips,  taxis, 
not  to  mention  the  income  tax. 

Ritchie  was  right.  I  needed  every 
dollar  and  had  to  plan  for  weeks  to  get 
a  new  suit  to  work  in.  So  Ritchie  kept 
on  paying  his  own  expenses.  And  this 
was  the  guy  I  was  afraid  to  sign  with 
because  I  was  afraid  he  would  sting  me. 

Don't  misunderstand  me.  Dorsey  was 
paying  me  good  money  according  to 
the  usual  rates  for  a  new  singer,  and 
he  was  great  in  every  way.  He  even 
slipped  me  an  extra  $100  for  a  new  suit 
when  we  were  booked  into  the  Palla- 
dium because  he  knew  that  all  my  Hol- 
lywood friends  would  be  turning  out 
to  hear  me  there.  And  later,  when  I 
quit,  he  was  swell,  again. 

After  I  had  been  with  him  for  eight 
months,  he  offered  me  a  contract.  I 
talked  it  over  with  Ritchie.  Dorsey  was 
taking  only  two  dates  a  week  at  that 
time,  so  it  seemed  like  a  good  idea  for 
me  to  break  away  and  try  to  get  some 
club  dates  and  some  more  money,  and 
Dorsey  agreed  that  it  was  a  good  move 
and  might  lead  to  better  things. 

"You're  ready,"  he  said.  "Go  to  it. 
I'll  be  rooting  for  you." 

Ritchie  knew  one  of  the  top  agents, 
Al  Levy,  and  this  time  I  went  in  the 
front  door  and  into  the  front  office,  too. 
Levy  is  another  wonderful  guy.  I  am 
not  sure  that  either  he  or  Ritchie  would 
like  it  if  they  knew  I  was  spreading  the 
news  that  neither  of  them  has  taken  any 
money  from  me  even  yet  because  they 
are  both  in  business  and  life  would  get 
pretty  complicated  if  word  got  around 
that  they  are  a  couple  of  soft  touches. 


don't  miss; 


Gala  Broadcast 

Wednesday,   February  9 

ABC    Stations 

Check    Your    Paper    For    Time 

for  the  BIG  SURPRISE  of  1949 


Read  the  big  news  on  Bing  Crosby  in  March  PHOTOPLAY  magazine.   Look 
for  Bing  and  his  four  sons  on  the  cover.  On  sale  February  11. 


They  aren't,  as  a  matter  of  fact.  They 
just  aren't  money  hungry.  They  are  just 
about  as  soft  as  a  cement  wall  when 
it  comes  to  business,  but  they  are  big 
time  in  the  way  they  think.  They  cer- 
tainly have  proved  it  in  the  way  they've 
backed  me  and  believed  in  me.  For 
instance,  Levy  advanced  my  expenses 
back  to  New  York  after  he  decided  to 
do  my  booking.  I  had  run  out  of  money 
in  Hollywood  and  no  work  had  turned 
up  except  the  week  that  I  -won  in  the 
tryouts  on  Mickey  Rooney's  Showcase. 

"There's  nothing  doing  here,"  Levy 
said.  "Let's  go  to  New  York  and  see 
what's  doing  there." 

You  can  see  that  getting  started  as  a 
singer  can  run  into  some  real  expenses. 

I  guess  everybody  knows  how  Arthur 
Godfrey's  Talent  Scouts  works,  but  for 
the  few  who  don't  perhaps  I'd  better 
explain  that  anyone  who  thinks  he  has 
discovered  a  talent  can  take  his  dis- 
covery there.  You  do  not  have  to  be  a 
professional  agent  or  artist  to  get  a 
chance.  It's  an  audience  show,  and  the 
applause  of  the  people  in  the  theater 
picks  the  winner.  Everybody  who  gets 
on  the  air  is  paid  $100  and  the  winner 
gets  a  three-day  engagement  at  scale 
which  brings  in  around  another  $250. 
All  the  scouts  get  $25  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  one  who  brings  in  the 
winner.    He  gets  $100. 

1  HATED  to  see  those  three  days  come 
to  an  end.  On  the  third  day,  after  I 
had  sung  my  last  song,  and  was  starting 
to  leave  the  mike,  Godfrey  called  me 
back.  "What  do  you  want  to  do  next, 
Bill?"  he  said. 

I  thought  he  was  giving  me  a  chance 
to  sing  one  more  song,  so  I  said,  "This 
Is  the  Moment." 

He  smiled  and  said,  "No.  I  mean  what 
do  you  want  to  do  next  for  a  living?" 

"Just  be  on  a  show  like  this,"  I  told 
him. 

"Would  you  really  like  to  stay  on  this 
show?"  he  asked. 

I  thought  he  was  just  filling  in  a 
minute  or  so  with  conversation  because 
the  show  had  run  fast.  I  hadn't  the 
slightest  hint  that  he  was  serious, 
though  I  certainly  meant  it  when  I 
said,  "That  would  be  wonderful.  I  hope 
you  let  me  come  back  again  sometime." 

"I  mean  it,"  he  said.  "Would  you  like 
to  sign  a  contract  to  stay  on  this  show?" 

Then  I  woke  up  to  the  fact  that  he 
was  offering  me  the  break  of  a  lifetime, 
and  I  just  stood  there  with  my  mouth 
open.  I  had  been  wording  for  a  break 
on  a  network  for  so  long  that  when  it 
happened  I  just  could  not  take  it  in. 

I  don't  drink,  so  Ritchie  and  I  went 
to  Lindy's  and  had  some  cheesecake  to 
celebrate.  And,  believe  me,  I  paid 
Ritchie's  bill  for  a  change. 

This  job  brings  me  around  $500  a 
week,  which  is  an  awful  lot  of  money. 
Ever  since  it  happened,  people  have 
been  saying,  "How  are  you  going  to 
spend  all  of  that?"  I  know  the  answer. 
First  I  am  going  to  pay  back  Ritchie 
and  Al  all  of  the  money  they  have  spent 
on  me.  They  say  not  to  worry  about  it, 
and  I  don't  worry — but  I  don't  forget  it, 
either. 

My  mother  has  a  good  job,  and  she 
doesn't  need  money  right  at  this  minute, 
but  I  am  going  to  send  her  some  anyway 
so  that  she  can  have  a  lot  of  nice  things 
that  she  couldn't  afford  when  she  was 
bringing  us  up.  Then  I  want  to  .get  a 
little  in  the  bank  after  I  get  out  of  debt. 

After  that,  all  I  want  to  do  is  keep  on 
singing,  hoping  that  I'll  never  forget 
that  it  took  good  advice,  good  bosses 
and  good  friends  to  get  me  ready  for 
the  breaks  when  they  came  my  way. 


Oh,  lovely  Blonde!  My  voice  I  raise, 
Your  tender,  golden  cliarms  to  praise. 

When  I  am  soiled  beyond  belief. 
Your  perfume  heralds  prompt  relief. 

Beneath  your  swift  and  gentle  care, 
I  shun  all  washday  wear  and  tear. 

And  when  with  me  you've  had  your  way, 
I'm  cleansed  of  'Tottle-Tale-ish'  Gray. 

All  substitutes  I  now  decline. 
Dear  Blondie,  be  my  Valentine! 


^>^J. 


^i< 


GOLDEN    BAR   OR    GOLDEN    CHIPS 

Fels-Naptha  Soap 

BANISHES   "TATTLE-TALE   GRAY" 


81 


i 


LITTLE   LLLU 


When  you  gotta  blow-it  better  be  KLEENEX*! 

Little  Lulu  says:  When  you  take  cold,  don't  take  just  "tissues" ■ 
—insist  on  Kleenex  Tissues.  Extra  soft,  plenty  strong,  Kleenex 
comforts  tender  noses— catches  a  kingsize   sneeze,  with   ease! 


O  International  Cellucotton  Products  Co. 


*T.  M.  Reg.  U.  S.  Pat.  Off. 


R 
M 

82 


^    IN  BAGS  OR  BOXES 
1^   FRESH  FROM  MomJm/ 
T    POPCORN  MACHINES 
1^  IN  PACKAGES  FOR 
if    POPPING  AT  HOME 

Get  hot  fresh,  delicious  Hi  Pop  Popcorn  any- 
where— the  Nation's  popular" food  confection. 
Served  from  sparkling  Man|ey  Popcorn  Ma- 
chines at  your  movie  theatre  and  variety  store 
or  wherever  good  popcorn  is 
sold.  Ask  your  food  store  for 
Hi  Pop  in  the  red  ar>d  white 
candy  cane  package.  Make  your 
own  popcorn  at  home.  Remem- 
ber—  Hi  Pop  is  the  same  fine 
corn  movie  shows  feature. 


America's 
largest  selling 


J^eesA  cracker! 


Sunshine  Biscuili.  a 


Coast  to  Coast  in 
Television 

(Continued  from  page  49) 

like   the   kind   you   wore   last   summer 
when  you  went  swimming. 

There    it    is — and    here's    looking    at 
you  on  video! 


A  whodunit  television  show  was 
given  a  new  twist  when  CBS-TV  and 
New  York's  Old  Knickerbocker  Music 
Hall  got  together  and  presented  it  from 
the  stage  of  that  combination  cafe- 
theater. 

When  all  the  clues  were  planted,  the 
action  of  the  show  was  halted  briefly 
while  the  roving  mike  and  cameras 
went  among  the  diners.  While  the 
amateur  sleuths  at  the  tables  were  fig- 
uring out  the  criminal,  viewers  out- 
side were  encouraged  to  telephone  their 
deductions. 

A  young  lady  in  the  Old  Knick's 
audience  reaped  a  tasty  selection  of 
new  duds  by  guessing  right;  ditto  a 
housewife  who  phoned  in  her  solution. 
There  was  a  man's  outfit  too. 

Anyhow,  the  show  then  continued, 
with  the  mystery  solved  on-stage  for 
the  benefit  of  the  non-guessers — among 
them  your  slow-witted  reporter,  who 
is  still  trying  to  figure  it  out! 


If  your  hostess  tempts  you  with  an 
out-of-this-world  dessert,  an  apricot 
mousse  in  a  chocolate  mold,  you  can 
probably  thank  Dione  Lucas'  cooking 
class  on  CBS-TV.  A  rehearsal  mousse 
Dione  made  was  a  masterpiece,  but  she 
said  it  would  be  even  more  luscious 
when  she  performed  for  the  cameras. 
Even  unrehearsed,  it  was  mouth- 
watering. 


That  most  radio  broadcasts  can't  be 
transferred  to  television  lock,  stock 
and  barrel  was  proved  by  the  Mary 
Margaret  McBride  show.  She's  the 
same  Mary  Margaret  with  the  same 
million-dollar  chatter — but  even  her 
best  friends  told  her  that  the  show 
seems  static  on  video.  By  the  time  this 
little  piece  is  printed  she  and  Vincent 
and  the  folks  who  help  them  out  will 
probably  have  found  the  right  formula 
for  keeping  her-  countless  fans  happy, 
but  it  just  goes  to  show  you  that  we're 
working  with  a  brand-new  medium. 


Cal  York,  crack  columnist  for  Photo- 
play, is  hogging  the  new  television  pro- 
gram called  Inside  Photoplay.  It  seems 
the  irrepressible  Cal  calls  up  from 
Hollywood  five  days  a  week  on  the 
program  and  wants  to  tell  everything 
he  knows— ^and  Cal  knows  everything 
about  Movietown.  So  in  order  to  get 
on  with  the  rest  of  the  show.  Photo- 
play's television  hostess  Wendy  Barrie 
has  to  hang  up  on  Cal.  Sometimes  he 
even  calls  back — and  has  to  be  hung  up 
on  a  second  time. 

Jimmie  Dunn  was  a  guest  on  the 
opening  telecast,  and  Wendy  and 
Photoplay  editor  Adele  Fletcher  had  a 
hard  time  making  him  talk  about  the 
Oscar  he  won  for  "A  Tree  Grows  in 
Brooklyn."  Jimmie  was  deep  in  pro- 
duction plans  for  his  new  Broadway 
play,  and  being  a  producer  now  instead 
of  an  actor  he  was  too  busy  to  bother 
with  such  little  things  as  Academy 
Awards. 


Inside  PhotopXay  is  chockful  of  news 

and  pictures  and  feature  stories  about 

Hollywood     today,     and     wonderfully 

nostalgic  photos  of  the  Hollywood  that 

used  to  be,   straight  from  Photoplay's 

famous   files.     It's   a   Monday   through 

Friday  show  on  Dumont's  Channel   5, 

which  is  WABD  in  New  York,  at  4:30 

P.M.  EST. 

*  *  * 

When  Faye  Emerson  introduces  the 
Paris  Cavalcade  of  Fashion  on  WNBT  at 
7:15  EST  every  Wednesday  night,  she's 
thinking  not  only  of  the  woman  who 
can  buy  these  French  originals  or 
the  expensive  American  copies — she's 
thinking  of  the  thousands  of  women 
who  make  their  own  clothes  and  can 
pick  up  style  tricks  from  these  authen- 
tic films. 

They  are  authentic,  because  they're 
the  actual  clothes  made  by  the  great 
Parisian  couturiers,  modeled  by  the 
most  famous  mannequins,  and  photo- 
graphed at  the  Paris  openings.  The 
commentary  is  written  by  Jean  Condit, 
who  with  Faye  decided  that  it  should 
be  completely  down-to-earth  to  give 
the  most  help  to  the  average  woman. 

Faye  herself  is  an  informal  person, 
without  any  chi-chi.  When  I  first  met 
her  she  was  a  Warner  starlet  in  Holly- 
wood. 

Now  she's  Mrs.  Elliot  Roosevelt  and 
the  star  of  a  long-run  Broadway  hit, 
"The  Play's  the  Thing."  Her  clothes 
are  a  little  more  formal  but  her  atti- 
tude is  strictly  Faye  Emerson,  at  work. 

As  for  fashion  trends  for  Spring, 
Faye  predicts  that  the  Empire  line, 
with  high  belt  and  tapered  waist- 
line, will  be  a  "new  look";  that  slimmer 
skirts  in  front,  with  released  back  full- 
ness to  make  them  comfortable  for 
walking,   will  be  popular. 

"Hollywood  influenced  Paris  fashions 
greatly  with  the  casual  sports  suits  and 
the  shirtmaker  dress.  Then  Paris 
added  the  wonderful  French  detailing, 
and  now  we  have  the  beautiful  re- 
sults of  their  combined  efforts,"  she 
told  me.  She  likes  plain-color  basic 
clothes,   with  bright  accessories. 


MARCH  OF  DIMES 


JANUARY  14-31 


enriched  creme 

SHAMPOO 

contains  egg! 


It's  the  egg  that  does  it!  By  actual  scientific  test, 

the  real  egg  contained  in  powdered  form  in  Richard  Hudnut  Enriched 

Creme  Shampoo  makes  your  hair  easier  to  comb,  easier  to  set. 

You'll  make  pin  curls  more  like  a  professional's  ...  so 

much  smoother,  evener,  they're  bound  to  last  longer!  And  see  how 

much  better  your  Richard  Hudnut  Home  Permanent  "takes"  after 

this  marvelous  shampoo!  So  much  gentler,  kinder,  too!  No  wonder 

your  hair  is  left  shimmering  with  new  beauty  and  "lovelights"! 


1.  Contains  egg  (powder,  1%)  — 
proved  to  make  hair  more  man- 
ageable. 

2.  Not  a  wax  or  paste— but  a 
smooth  liquid  creme! 


mpoo  is  better  because: 

3 .  Easy  to  apply ;  rinses  out  readily. 

4.  Removes  loose  dandruff. 

5.  Same  shampoo  Richard  Hudnut 
Fifth  Avenue  Salon  uses  for 
luxury  treatments! 


It 
M 

83 


A  GREYHOUND 

EXPENSE-PAID   TOUR 


D 


Take  your  pick!  Everything  is 
arranged,  paid  for  in  advance 

An  Amazing  America  Tour  is  all  pleasure  for 
you  because  Greyhound  makes  the  reserva- 
tions, picks  the  best  of  sightseeing  and  enter- 
tainment— you  just  enjoy  yourself.  Tours  are 
amazingly  low  in  cost — and  are  arranged  for 
one  person  or  a  groups  Early  birds  get  first 
choice  of  hotel  and  resort  facilities — so  go  in 
the  Spring  or  early  Summer.  A  few  of  the 
dozens  of  tours  available: 

6-DAY     MIAMI      TOUR 

Includes  hotel  accommodations,  bus 
and  boat  sight-seeing  trips,  round-trip 
to  Key  West,  with  luncheon. 

4-DAY    SAN  FRANCISCO  TOUR  $13^0 

Provides  hotel  accommodations.  Gray        | , 

Line  tours  of  famous  attractions,  includ- 
ing U.  C.  Campus  and  Chinatown. 

5-DAY  NEW  YORK   CITY  TOUR  $21*° 

Hotel,  sight-seeing  in  N.B.C.  Building,  | — , 
Rockefeller  Center,  Empire  State  Bldg. 
and  Gray  Line  tour  over  entire  city. 

7-DAY    MEXICO    CITY    TOUR    S^g'O 

Accommodations  at  Hotel  Geneve,        | — . 
four  sight-seeing  trips  to  points  of  in- 
terest and  beauty  around  Mexico  City. 
Six  meals  included. 

11-Day  Florida  Circle  Tour,  $73.20  D.  6-Day 
Circle  Tour  Colonial  Virginia,  $40.45  D.  3-Day 
Chicago  Tour,  $11.95  D.  5-Day  Washington, 
D.  C.  Tour,  $24.95  D.  4-Day  Los  Angeles 
Tour,  $12.40  D.  2-Day  Mammoth  Cave  Tour, 
$21.10  n. 4-Day  Historic  Boston  Tour,$23. 25  D. 
(Add price  of  Greyhound  ticket  to  above  rates.) 


MAIL  THIS  COUPON  FOR  TOUR  INFORMATION 

Fill  in  this  coupon  and  mail  it  to:  GREYHOUND  HIGHWAY 
TOURS,  Dept.  MW29, 105  West  Madison,  Chicago  2,  III. 
Be  sure  to  put  check-mark  opposite  tour  which  interests  you. 


My  Father  Groucho 

{Continued  from   page   39) 


Name- 


"  Address 

m 

City  &  Sfafe- 


-MW29 


to  submit  themselves  to  Father's  furi- 
ous ad-libbing. 

You  Bet  Your  Life  is  a  quiz  show,  but 
it  differs  from  the  usual  thing  in  that 
line  by  putting  the  emphasis  on  laughs, 
not  money.  It  is,  of  course,  completely 
unrehearsed — though  I  doubt  that  lack 
of  premeditation  is  any  excuse  for  some 
of  Father's  puns.  Anyway,  despite  the 
hazards  of  uncharted  dialogue,  the  show 
usually  manages  to  stay  within  reason- 
able bounds  of  propriety. 

Occasionally,  though,  an  outspoken 
contestant  will  explode  one  of  those 
conversational  grenades  that  make 
quiz  shows  an  ulcerous  undertaking  for 
producers,  censors,  and  vice-presidents; 
for  nearly  everyone,  in  fact,  except 
Groucho.  He  seems  to  enjoy  the  un- 
expected as  much  as  the  audience  does. 

THERE  was  the  time  recently  when  a 
lady  choir  singer,  telling  about  the  in- 
teresting things  that  happened  to  her  in 
the  course  of  her  singing  engagements, 
quite  innocently  remarked  that  one  of 
the  most  interesting  was  the  time  her 
pants  fell  down  while  she  was  singing 
with  a  group  on  the  stage  at  Hollywood 
Bowl. 

Groucho,  obviously  fascinated,  didn't 
hesitate  to  ask  the  question  anyone 
would  have  asked:  "What  did  you  do?" 

"Why,  I  ran  offstage,"  the  lady  re- 
plied. "But  with  those  darn  things 
dragging  around  my  ankles  I  had  to  take 
such  short  steps  that  it  seemed  forever 
before  I  finally  got  out  of  sight  of  the 
audience." 

"It  must  have  been  pretty  harrow- 
ing," Groucho  sympathized.  "Didn't  the 
choir  try  to  help  cover  your  retreat? 
Surely  they  could've  made  some  little 
musical  diversion,  such  as  a  rendering 
of  'Onward  Christian  Soldiers'  or  'Lon- 
don Bridge  is  Falling  Down.'  " 

Fortunately,  Groucho's  show  is  re- 
corded on  wax  before  it  is  put  on  the 
air,  so  this  bit  of  flummery  never  got 
outside  the  studio. 

There  are  times  when  Father  gets 
depressed  about  his  radio  show.  Only 
this  morning,  when  I  asked  him  how  the 
recording  of  it  had  gone  the  night  be- 
fore, he  said,  in  tones  of  deepest  sorrow: 
"Terrible.  None  of  the  contestants 
won  over  fifteen  dollars  last  night.  It 
was  one  of  the  most  frustrating  things 
I  ever  experienced.  There  I  sat  with 
great  golden  gobs  of  dough  to  give  away 
— how  I  enjoy  giving  away  the  sponsor's 
money! — and  nobody  was  answering  the 
questions  correctly.  I  think  I'll  try  to 
make  a  deal  with  the  sponsors  to  let 
me  have  a  crack  at  answering  the  ques- 
tions. That  new  house  I  just  bought  is 
costing  me  plenty." 

"What  did  you  want  to  get  such  a  big 
place  for?"  I  asked  him. 

"Why,  now  that  I'm  married  again 
and  starting  my  second  family — I  hope 
Melinda  is  just  a  start — no  telling  how 
many  nurseries  we  might  need.  And  if 
the  family  doesn't  .  come  along  as 
planned,  I'll  have  ample  space  to  put  in 
a  few  pool  tables  and  open  a  billiard 
academy." 

"Fine  atmosphere  for  Melinda  to  grow 
up  in,"  I  rebuked  Father.  "A  billiard 
academy!" 

But  looking  back  on  my  own  child- 
hood, I  can  see  the  core  of  practical 
wisdom  in  Father's  remark. 

At  the  time  of  my  arrival,  1921  or 
thereabouts.  Father  and  three  or  four 
of  his  Brothers  (they  sometimes  carried 
a  spare  in  those  days)  were  perpetrat- 


ing a  vaudeville  act  called  "On  The 
Mezzanine."  Like  most  vaudeville 
babies,  I  was  put  to  bed  more  than  once 
in  a  bureau  drawer.  In  fact,  I  slept  in 
so  many  bureau  drawers  that  even  now 
when  I  go  to  the  bureau  and  pull  the 
drawer  open  to  get  a  shirt,  I  feel  an 
instinctive  urge  to  crawl  in  and  curl  up. 

At  the  time  hearsay  leaves  off  and 
my  own  memory  begins,  the  Marx 
Brothers  had  graduated  from  vaude- 
ville to  Broadway,  where  they  were 
doing  their  first  full-length  show,  "I'll 
Say  She  Is."  I  never  did  find  out  who 
"She"  was — Father  always  evaded  the 
question,  even  when  Mother  asked  him 
— but  the  show  was  a  hit. 

So  were  the  Marx  Brothers'  next  two 
—"Coconuts"  and  "Animal  Crackers." 
I  saw  them  all  from  backstage,  and  I 
don't  imagine  I  was  much  more  be- 
wildered by  some  of  the  proceedings 
than  the  people  out  front  who'd  paid 
their  way  in. 

Ultimately,  as  nearly  everyone  knows, 
Father  and  his  Brothers  became  en- 
tangled in  the  movie  industry.  Ignoring 
the  question  of  whether  the  movie  in- 
dustry has  ever  fully  recovered  from 
this  entanglement,  we  will  move  on 
to  Hollywood,  where  the  Marx  family 
moved  after  making  their  first  two 
films  in  the  celluloid  jungles  of  Astoria, 
Long  Island.  It  was  about  then  my 
interest  in  sports  began  to  displace  my 
earlier  fascination  with  backstage  do- 
ings. Father  encouraged  this  trend. 
He's  always  been  a  sports  enthusiast. 
Baseball  was,  and  is,  his  great  love. 

Our  first  house  in  Hollywood  sat 
nearly  atop  one  of  those  minor  Alps 
that  infest  the  region,  making  the  sur- 
rounding terrain  most  unsuitable  for 
baseball.  But  that  didn't  discourage 
Father,  or  me,  either.  Since  the  only 
level  place  in  the  neighborhood  was  a 
stretch  of  paved  street  in  front  of  our 
house,  that's  where  we  had  our  games. 

A  couple  of  writers  who  were  work- 
ing on  the  Marx  Brothers'  first  Holly- 
wood movie,  "Monkey  Business,"  used 
to  come  out  and  play  with  us.  One  of 
them  was  S.  J.  Perelman. 

When  we  moved  down  to  the  low- 
lands of  Beverly  Hills  and  joined  the 
Tennis  Club,  I  discovered  the  main  in- 
terest of  my  life  for  the  next  ten  years 
or  so — tennis.  At  that  time  Father  used 
to  venture  on  the  courts  once  in  awhile 
with  a  racket  in  his  hands,  which  he 
used  mostly  for  self  defense,  that  is, 
when  he  wasn't  using  it  to  sit  on  be- 
tween points. 

1  WON'T  embarrass  Father  by  telling 
how  long  it  was  before  I  was  able  to 
beat  him,  but  I  will  tell  you  something 
that   happened   when   I   was   fourteen. 

In  those  days  the  Beverly  Hills  Tennis 
Club  was  owned  by  two  of  the  best 
players  in  the  game,  Ellsworth  Vines 
and  Fred  Perry.  Both  had  been  world 
champions  as  amateurs.  After  brooding 
over  certain  defeats  he'd  suffered  at  my 
hands.  Father  actually  sank  so  low  as 
to  enlist  these  two  Titans  of  tennis  on 
his  side  in  an  effort  to  humiliate  me,  his 
own  son. 

I  had  a  friend  my  own  age,  who  was 
a  pretty  fair  Junior  player,  and  Father 
challenged  him  and  me  to  play  a 
doubles  match  against  himself  and 
Vines. 

I  don't  want  to  sound  braggish  about 
this,  but  we  two  fourteen-year-olds 
beat  Vines  and  Father.  We  accom- 
plished   this    mighty    upset    by    being 


2- pieces. 


only 


|98   -f 

_|  SIZES  9  \o44 
(IWA6IHE  SO  MUCH  eUMOUR 
AT  SO  TJNY  A  PRKE! 
Wear  it  as  a  2-piece  dress, 
or  th«  skirt  separafefy  with 
blouses.    You'll    Jove    Us 
honey  -  of  -  a  -  jocket,    with 
pretty     rosettes,     wing 
sleeves,    set-in    button-/ 
bock  belt,  and  flirty  pep  - 
lum.  Full    new- length^ 
skirt.  .  jS 

■  Soltd    color    V/OndaliO/^^' 
looks   like   tfnen,   easy'^ 
to  v/ash  andiron  crisp 
as-ne^v;  colorfast 
Colors:    Aqua,    Grey, 
Ptnk  or   Brown 
.No.  2527  iunior  Sizesr 

9,  n,  13,  15,  17 
No.  2526   Misses  Sues: 

12,   14,   16,   18,  20 
Women's  Sixes: 
40,  42,  44 


PINAFORE  DRESS  WITH  SEPARATE, 
CONTRASTING   BOLERO  JACKE^ 


only 


|98  ^ 

M^   for  both 

•  Eye  catching  2-color  com 
binotions. 

•  Dazzling   white  rick-rack 
trim. 

•  Seporate    Contrasting 
Bolero  Jacket. 

•  Pinafore   Dress    with 
wide   straps. 

•  Full  skirt;  big  pocket. 
fine    qualify    cotton 

that    won'f    fac/e    in 

washing. 

Colors:    Grey   clress 

with   Black   Bolero; 

or   Powder    Blue 

dress    with   Skip- 
per  Blue  bolero. 

No.  2548 
Misses'  Sizes: 

12,  14,  16, 

18.  20 
Women's  Sizes: 

40,  42,  44 


PlcUdPnd^ 

SMART  NEW  PIAID 
BEST  BUY  FOR  JUNIORS! 


Wonderful  X. 
lines  for  your 
junior  figure—' 
moulded  torso  top; 
generous  skirt  fullness 
gathered  into  wide 
tiers. 

Flattering    white 
pique  re  vers,  puff 
sleeves,  set-in  belt, 
buttons   to   the 
first  tier. 
Colors:    Beauti- 
ful   bold    plaid 
in     Block -and- 
GoldorGreent- 
a  n  d  -  P  i  n  k; 
cplorfoit.      ^       -. 

No.  2529  -    J'^i 
Junior  Sizes:  **  "*^ 
9,    11,    13, 
15,   17 


No.  2548 


No.  2529 


.or   only 


$6- No!  $5 -Not  $4 -Warmer!    T/e^U^^^/t:^^ 

THEY'RE  THE  MOST   BEAUTIFUL   DRESSES  IN  THE  WORIO.., 


BY  MM   QjSjf   FROM  FLORIDA  FASHIONS .. . 
CAN  YOU  GET  THESE  %MmvA  DRESSES;  THESE  9)fa^t4luM 


NEW   PEPLUM  COAT-DRESS 

only   O^® 


Slimming   Stripes,  al- 
ways flattering,  make 
you   more   attractive 
than  ever  in  this  new- 
idea  coat  dress  with 
^      smart  front  peplums, 
each   with    pocket, 
Stripes    ore    up-and- 
dov/n    on    dress   and 
peplum,   crossways   on 
pockets.  Crisp   eyelet 
edging;    cap   sleeves; 
front  tie   belt;  full   skirt. 
High-count,fast-color  percale. 

Colors:  Green,  Blue,  or  Wine 
Stripes  on   White   ground. 
No.  2514       Misses  Sizes: 

14,   16,   18,  20 
Women's  Sizes:  40,  42,  44,  46. 


No.  2514 


)F.F.  Inc.  1949 


SEND  NO  MONEY 

We  mail  immediately 
Full  Satisfaction 
or  Money  Back 


4^  These  ay\KS  in  these  patterns  or  color  combinotioas 
ore  avoifabfe  only  from  Florida  fashions. 


No.  2528 


DRAMATIC  —  EXCITING  COAT-DRESS 
^        only   O^® 


Daring— so  smart  and  different— so  be- 
coming on  you!  Beautiful  Rosebud 
checked  panels  in  exciting  contrast  with 
solid  black.  Botton-fronf;  tie  belt;  triangle 
pocket; turn-back  cuffs.  So  amazingly  low 
priced  in  high-count  fast  color  percale. 
Colors:  Pink,  Grey,  or  Maize, 

alt  with  Black. 
No.  2528-  Misses  Sizes:    14,  T6,  18,  20. 
Women's  Sizes:    40/  42. 

Write  for  FREE  Style  Folder 


f&yuoa  -JToUkfeoitA/t/wc. 


FLOfilDA  FASHIONS,  Sanford        135  Flo. 


(Bl 


Please  send  me  these  dresses  on  approval  at  2.98  eoch  plus  postage  end 
C.O.D.  charges.  If  not  delighted,  I  may  return  purchase  within  ten  days 
for  refund.  (You  moy  enclose  price  plus  20  cents  postage,  saving  C.O.D. 
fee.  Same  refund  privilege.) 


How  Many 


Style 


Siz. 


Color 


Each 


No.  2527 

No.  2526 

No.  2548 

No.  2529 

No.  2514 

No.  2528 

Name 

Address 

City Zone Stole 

PLEASE  PRINT  PLAINLY 


R 
M 

85 


VO"" 


sbo' 


V^V' 


R 

M 

86 


lonight!..oliow  him  how  much  loveher 
your  hair  can  look... alter  a 


ampoo 


No  other  shampoo  gives  you  the  same 
magical  secret-blend  lather  plus  kindly 
LANOLIN  . . .  for  true  hair  beauty. 

Tonight  he  can  SEE  new  sheen  in  your  hair,  FEEL  its 
caressable  softness,THRILL  to  its  glorious  natural  beauty. 
Yes,  tonight,  if  you  use  Lustre-Creme  Shampoo  today! 

Only  Lustre-Creme  has  Kay  Daumit's  magic  blend 
of  secret  ingredients  plus  gentle  lanolin.  This  glamoriz- 
ing shampoo  lathers  in  hardest  water.  Leaves  hair 
fragrantly  clean,  shining,  free  of  loose  dandruff  and 
so  soft,  so  manageable! 

Famous  hairdressers  use  and  recommend  it  for 
shimmering  beauty  in  all  "hair-dos"  and  permanents. 
Beauty-wise  women  made  it  America's  favorite  cream 
shampoo.  Try  Lustre-Creme!  The  man  in  your  life — 
and  you — will  love  the  loveliness  results  in  your  hair. 

Kay  Daumit,  lac,  919  North  Michigan  Avenue^  Chicago,  Illinois 


NOT  A   SOAPI 

NOT  A  LIQUIDI 

BUT  KAY  DAUMIT'S 

RICH   LATHERING 

CREAM    SHAMPOO 

WITH    LANOLIN 

for  Soft.Shimtnering 
Glamorous  Hair 


4-oz.  jar  $1 ;  smaller 
jars  and  tubes,  494  and  250. 


(Continued  from  page  84)  extremely 
careful  not  to  hit  anything  within 
reach  of  Vines — w^hich  made  it  a 
pretty  warm  afternoon  for  Father. 

Father  insisted  our  win  was  a  fluke, 
so  the  next  day  we  had  to  play  another 
match,  this  time  against  him  and  Fred 
Perry.  The  results  were  the  same. 
Father's  backhand,  never  very  strong, 
cracked  under  constant  bombardment, 
and  my  friend  and  I  won. 

Perry  congratulated  us,  while  Father 
stalked  off  to  the  clubhouse.  I  found 
him  later  in  the  locker-room,  beating 
himself  over  the  head  with  his  tennis 
racket.  He  wasn't  hurting  himself  much 
because  he  was  using  a  backhand  stroke 
and,  as  I've  said,  his  backhand  was 
weak.  Nevertheless,  I  thought  it  better 
to  remove  the  tennis  racket  from  his 
trembling  hands. 

It  was  then  he  declared:  "If  I  can't 
beat  a  couple  of  junior  midgets  with 
the  best  tennis  players  in  the  world  as 
my  partners,  I'd  better  quit.  There 
must  be  something  basically  wrong  with 
my  game."  I  thought  his  logic  was  ir- 
refutable. 

After  several  years  of  tennis,  I  finally 
realized  I  was  getting  to  an  age  when  I 
had  to  consider  how  I  was  going  to 
make  my  living. 

FATHER  had  only  one  piece  of  advice 
— "Don't  be  an  actor,"  he  said.  On 
that,  we  saw  eye  to  eye. 

But,  in  the  line  of  possible  careers, 
there  was  another  activity  of  Father's 
that  had  long  intrigued  me.  This  was 
the  semi-secret  exercise  he  used  to  per- 
form on  the  typewriter  at  frequent 
intervals.  He'd  lock  himself  up  in  his 
room  and,  after  a  few  hours  of  hack- 
ing away  on  his  Remington,  he  would 
emerge  with  some  pages  of  typewritten 
material  which  he'd  stuff  in  an  envelope 
and  mail  to  a  magazine.  A  few  days 
or  weeks  later,  back  would  come  an 
envelope  from  the  magazine  with  a 
check  in  it. 

This  struck  me  as  one  of  the  most 
ridiculously  easy  ways  of  making 
money  that  had  ever  been  invented,  so 
easy  as  to  be  almost  dishonest.  I  de- 
cided I  wanted  to  be  a  writer. 

There  hasn't  been  a  day  since  that  I 
haven't  regretted  it. 

And  now,  if  you  don't  mind,  let  us 
close  this  painful  subject  and  get  back 
to  Groucho,  who  is  presently  working 
in  a  movie  with  Frank  Sinatra  and 
Jane  Russell.  Ever  since  the  studio  came 
out  with  a  ruling  that  Jane  wasn't  go- 
ing to  be  allowed  to  wear  any  low  cut 
dresses  in  this  one,  I've  been  expecting 
to  hear  Father  had  resigned  from  the 
venture — but  so  far  he  hasn't.  Possibly 
he's  waiting  around  in  hopes  that  Frank 
Sinatra  will  break  a  leg  or  something 
so  that  he  can  take  over  the  romantic 
lead.  If  I  were  in  Sinatra's  shoes,  I'd 
be  on  the  alert  for  booby  traps. 

The  other  active  Marx  Brothers, 
Harpo  and  Chico,  recently  finished 
making  a  picture  with  Groucho,  after 
which  Chico  set  out  on  a  European 
tour.  Harpo's  staying  home,  catching 
up  on  his  sleeping  and  fishing.  Groucho 
says  a  good  time  for  the  fish  to  catch 
up  on  their  sleep  would  be  while 
Harpo's  fishing. 

But  he  wouldn't  have  said  that  if 
he'd  known  it  was  going  to  hurt  Harpo's 
feelings.  Groucho  is  really  very  tender- 
hearted and  would  abandon  a  joke  any- 
time rather  than  bruise  someone's  sen- 
sibilities. 

Perhaps  that's  why,  after  all  I've  gone 
through  with  him,  I  have  to  admit  that, 
if  I  had  it  all  to  do  over  again,  I'd  still 
choose  Groucho  for  my  father.  That  is, 
I  would  if  I  couldn't  get  Betty  Grable. 


The  Girl  That  I  Marry 

(Continued  jrovn  page  41) 

"Of  course  not,"  I  told  him,  "I'll  carry 
it." 

Oh  .  .  .  and  what  I  wouldn't  give  for 
a  wife  who  could  cook  a  delicious  meal. 

Not  that  I  can't  do  a  little  cooking 
myself.  The  other  evening  I  tried  some 
eclairs.  I  have  never  seen  eclairs  so 
light.  It  was  sensational.  My  secret  is 
filling  them  with  helium  instead  of 
whipped  cream.  Of  course,  I  still 
haven't  tasted  my  light  eclairs.  I  can't 
get  them  down  from  the  ceiling. 

Lately,  I've  also  been  trying  my  hand 
at  dinner  dishes.  I  had  my  uncle  over 
for  dinner  and  decided  to  try  a  Welsh 
rarebit.  I'll  never  forget  what  he  said 
when  he  ate  it.  He  said,  "This  is  the 
best  Welsh  rarebit  I've  ever  eaten!" 
Those  were  his  last  words. 

It's  not  that  I  haven't  tried  to  get  a 
girl  to  marry  me.  I  have.  I  think  of 
wonderful  things  to  say  to  a  girl  .  .  . 
and  when  I  start,  she  giggles! 

Maybe  I  just  don't  appeal  to  girls. 
Maybe  .  .  .  and  this  is  the  thought  that 
kills  .  .  .  maybe  they're  mad  at  me  for 
conducting  a  radio  show  that  doesn't 
give  anything  away. 

You  see,  I  have  no  refrigerators,  no 
washing  machines,  no  B-29s.  Not  even 
a  little  six-week  jaunt  to  Pago-Pago. 
All  CBS  allows  me  to  offer  is  what  we 
hope  is  entertainment.  It's  so  embar- 
rassing! 

Yes,  that  may  have  something  to  do 
with  it.  I  feel  awful  about  the  pretty 
girls  who  come  to  a  broadcast,  and  all 
the  girls  tuned  in.  I  feel  as  though  Fm 
cheating  them,  being  cruel  and  in- 
human. The  thing  that  hurts  most  is 
when  I  have  to  notify  my  studio  audi- 
ence just  before  a  broadcast  to  go  out 
to  the  street  and  dismiss  those  empty 
moving-vans  they've  got  parked  there. 
It  hurts  me! 

THIS  summer  I  really  got  a  little 
desperate.  So  I  decided  to  try  my  luck 
in  Europe.  I  had  a  wonderful  vacation 
in  Paris  and  London.  Paris  was  de- 
lightful. I  saw  all  the  sights  .  .  .  The 
Champs  Elysees,  The  Folies  Bergere, 
the  Eiffel  Tower,  The  Folies  Bergere, 
the  Arch  of  Triumph,  The  Folies  Ber- 
gere .  .  .  And  then  it  happened.  It  was 
a  lovely  diynanche  evening  in  Aout  at 
about  dix  heures.  (English  translation: 
Sunday  night  in  August  at  ten  ...  I 
think.)  Her  name  was  Marie  .  .  .  and 
she  was  charmante!  We  had  had  a  mag- 
nifique  diner,  followed  by  le  cinema. 
Walking  along  the  Champs  Elysees  with 
the  moon  shining  brightly  on  nous,  I 
popped  the  question.  "Cherie,  voulez- 
vous  m^arier  avec  moi?"  I'll  never  for- 
get her  ravissant  reply.  With  a  bright 
twinkle  in  her  pretty  yeux  hXeu  she 
whispered:  "What  kinda  jerk  ya  think 
I  yam,  ya  shmo!"  My  conclusion:  The 
only  difference  between  French  girls 
and  American  girls  is  .  .  .  the  Atlantic 
Ocean. 

I  haven't  gotten  many  responses  from 
the  ad  on  my  program.  Ten  percent  of 
the  replies  I  did  get  were  from  girls  who 
were  under-age  .  .  .  But  the  other 
ninety  percent  came  from  girls  who 
were  under  observation. 

I  don't  know.  Maybe  I  made  the  re- 
quirements a  little  too  tough.  I  asked 
for  charm,  poise,  ability  and  person- 
ality and  an  oil  well.  "That  is  a  little 
demanding  of  me.  So,  just  forget  about 
the  charm,  poise,  ability  and  person- 
ality. And,  the  oil  well  doesn't  have  to 
be  brand  new.  All  I  want,  girls  ...  is 
a  gushing  bride. 


Baby  Expecting-  a  Mother 

Ahh^l  There  she  comes  with  more  of  those  naturally 
good  Gerber's.  Tots  certainly  go  for  them— and  doctors 
approve  them. 

Lip-S walking  starts  with  the  first  tiny  tastes  of 
Gerber's  Cereals   (often  baby's  first  spoon-fed  food). 
Soon  after,  Gerber's  Strained  Soups,  Fruits,  Vegetables 
and  Desserts  bring  delicious,  nourishing  variety. 
When  baby  graduates  to  finely  chopped  Junior  Foods 
—you  pay  the  same  low  price  for  Gerber's! 

Now//    Gerber's  Meats.  Extra-good  addition 
to  your  infant's  meals.  And  all  ready  to  eat ! 


Theyre 


^^pT 


Quality  Beef!  Veadt  Liver! 


Far  less  expensive  than  home-prepared  meats  for  baby ! 

Gerber's  Strained  and  Junior  Meats  come  in  one  size  can 

—at  one  modest  price! 

FREE  samples  of  3  special 
Baby  Cereals.  Write  to  Gerber's, 
Dept.  W-2-9,   Fremont,    Mich. 


erber's 

BABY    FOODS 

Frtmont,  Mich.  —  Oakland.  Calif 


3  Cereals     •      20  Strained  Foods     •      15  Junior  Foods     •      3  Strained  Meats     •      3  Junior  Meats 


R 
M 

87 


ALDENS  NEW 
1949  FASHION  DIGEST 


172  GLAMOUR-FILLED  PAGES 

GET   FASHION'S   NEWEST   SPRING  TRIUMPHS   NOW.' 
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Yours! . . .  FREE!  Aldens  ttiriliing  Spring  stiow- 
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plaids  and  stripes,  suave  pastels,  bewitching 
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glamour  ginghams  and  pique-iced  calicos- 
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ALDENS,  Dept.  625  Chicago  7,  Illinois 

Please  rush  my  free  copy  of  Aldens  1949  Fashion  Digest. 

PRINT  Nams 

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1889-1949 

Make  our  SOiSi  year 
your  thriftiest  year/ 


CHICAGO  7.  ILL 


You  Are  An  Artist 

(Continued  from  page  47) 

idea  that  art  is  a  form  of  therapy. 
Asked  why  he  began  his  television 
classes  in  the  first  place,  he  told  me,  "To 
reach  more  people  and  give  them  the 
pleasure  of  discovering  that  they  can 
enjoy  learning  to  draw.  To  show  them 
that  a  hobby  of  this  sort  can  take  their 
minds  off  their  problems  and  give  their 
bodies  a  chance  to  relax  and  be  well." 

He  knows  just  how  much  that  can 
mean.  Some  years  ago  he  had  a  nerv- 
ous breakdown.  He  gave  up  a  flourish- 
ing commercial  art  career  and  spent 
three  months  in  a  sanitarium.  "I 
went  on  with  my  drawing,"  he  ex- 
plained, "and  gave  nature  a  chance  to 
do  her  healing  work  on  me." 

Convalescence  gave  him  a  chance  to 
study  the  principles  of  drawing  more 
carefully.  Now,  viewers  working  at 
home  in  front  of  a  television  screen  are 
encouraged  to  draw  complete  com- 
positions right  from  the  start,  just  as 
pupils  in  his  school  at  New  Hope,  Pa., 
are  taught.  They  may  not  turn  out 
very  good  pictures  at  first,  but  they 
do  turn  out  complete  creative  efforts. 
When  Gnagy  chalks  in  his  title,  "You 
Are  an  Artist,"  and  turns  from  his 
drawing  board  to  the  television  audi- 
ence, they  can  look  right  back  at  his 
image  on  the  screen  and  agree,  "I  am." 

His  television  class  writes  as  prolif- 
ically  as  it  draws,  judging  from  the 
mail  he  gets.  Over  a  year  ago,  when 
sets  were  fewer,  one  telecast  offering 
a  drawing  pencil  to  viewers  who  sent 
in  their  drawings  brought  NBC's  great- 
est deluge  of  letters — irom  five  states, 
more  than  a  thousand  strong.  Many 
letter  writers  tell  him  their  new-found 
hobby  is  leading  to  a  career  in  art. 
Many  send  drawings  for  criticism  and 
Gnagy  answers  them  all. 

A  BIG  objection  to  art  subjects  on 
television  is  that  programs  tend  to  be 
static.  Gnagy  keeps  his  lively  in  sev- 
eral ways.  He  builds  a  picture  from 
the  blank  paper,  right  before  your 
eyes,  explains  the  reason  for  every 
form  and  stroke.  He  talks  easily  and 
simply.  He  borrows  museum  master- 
pieces, and  has  them  available,  heavily 
guarded,  for  television  study.  On  a 
recent  broadcast  he  showed  one  of 
Degas'  famous  ballet  subjects,  explained 
that  the  "s"  sound  was  pronounced  be- 
cause the  spelling  of  the  name  had  been 
changed  from  "Degaz"  and  the 
original  pronunciation  retained. 

Gnagy  saves  all  the  black  chalk 
demonstration  sketches  that  he  makes 
on  the  program  and  auctions  them  off 
for  the  Damon  Runyon  Cancer  Fund. 
An  accumulation  of  eighteen  months 
was  auctioned  recently,  for  prices  av- 
eraging six  dollars  each. 

When  Jon  was  seventeen,  and  the 
self-taught  illustrator  of  his  school 
paper  in  Kansas,  he  was  asked  to  do  a 
newspaper  rendering  of  gusher  oil 
wells.  His  work  was  noticed  and  he  got 
a  job  in  commercial  art  that  eventually 
led  to  his  becoming  a  high  priced  ad- 
vertising art  director  in  New  York, 
skilled  in  poster  and  package  design. 
Then  illness  struck,  and  with  it  time  to 
think  out  a  new  approach  to  art. 

If  you've  wondered  whether  that 
little  pointed  beard  stems  from  his 
artistic  calling,  it  doesn't.  He  says  it's 
the  result  of  his  Mennonite  background. 
But,  paradoxically,  it  gives  an  Old- 
Masterish  look  to  an  artist  so  modern 
that  he  was  quick  to  see  the  new  tele- 
vision's scope  for  entertainment. 


The  Silent  Bride 

(Continued  from  page   62) 

she  said.  "He  has  so  much  that — well,  I 
couldn't  help  feeling  that  it  set  him 
apart  from  me.  That's  why  I  never  told 
him  I  was  poor.  That's  why  I  broke 
the  engagement  when  Aunt  Aldin  said 
she'd  stop  my  allowance.  I  thought  he 
wouldn't  want  me  if  he  knew — " 

"Aldin,"  Sally  groaned. 

"I  know,"  Aldin  admitted  humbly. 
"I  was  wrong.  But  money  does  make  a 
difference  in  people,  Mrs.  Farrell — 
Sally.  And  I'd  known  Clifford  such  a 
short  time  that  I  wanted  him  to  think 
I  had  the  same  background  as  his — I 
wanted  him  to  think  I  was  his  kind  of 
girl — until  we  knew  each  other  well 
enough  so  that  it  wouldn't  matter.  Then 
when  Aunt  Aldin's  lawyer  handed  down 
his  ultimatum,  I  went  into  a  panic.  I 
called  Clifford  and  broke  the  engage- 
ment, and  he  got  angry,  and  I  got 
angry — " 

"He  was  hurt,  of  course,"  said  Sally 
quickly.  "He  didn't  tell  us  how  to  find 
you,  you  know.  We  got  your  address 
quite  by  accident,  when  we  went  out 
to  try  to  talk  to  Clifford.  But  the  rest 
of  it  I  don't  understand  at  all.  Why  was 
David  beaten  up  when  he  first  tried 
to  find  you?   Why  are  we  tied  up  here?" 

1' DON'T  know,"  said  Aldin  hopelessly. 
"But  I  was  warned,  too,  Sally!  Mr. 
Boyle  warned  me  never  to  speak  to 
you  or  your  husband  again." 

"Mr.  Boyle?" 

"He's  one  of  Aunt  Aldin's  lawyers. 
There's  no  telling  what  Aunt  Aldin 
might  do,  Sally!  A  crazy  old  recluse 
like  that — " 

Sally  couldn't  envision  the  elder 
Aldin  Westwood,  crazy  or  not,  going  to 
such  lengths  as  to  have  David  beaten 
and  her  niece  made  prisoner  simply  to 
escape  publicity.  She  was  certain  that 
young  Aldin  had  told  the  truth  as  she 
knew  it,  but  Sally  was  also  sure  that 
there  was  more  to  the  story  than  Aldin 
knew. 

"Aldin,"  she  said  suddenly,  "what's 
that  thing  in  the  corner  nearest  you? 
It  looks  like  the  cardboard  out  of  some- 
one's laundry  bundle." 

"It  is,"  said  Aldin  indififerently,  glanc- 
ing  at  the   object.    "Why?" 

"See  if  you  can  get  it,"  Sally  urged. 
"Rock  your  chair  along  the  boards  and 
then  tip  back  and  see  if  you  can  reach 
it.  There!  Now  hold  it  tight  against  the 
back  of  your  chair,  and  I'll  back  my 
chair  up  to  yours  and  see  what  kind 
of  printing  job  I  can  do  with  lipstick. 
Thank  heaven,  those  thugs  left  us  our 
handbags." 

Later,  in  the  hospital,  telling  David 
about  the  events  of  that  fantastic  day, 
she  could  chuckle  at  the  memory  of  her 
and  Aldin  rocking  themselves  along  the 
floor  like  children  playing  captive.  "We 
printed  signs,"  she  told  him.  "First  we 
printed  one  reading  'Help'  and  stuck 
it  through  a  crack  in  the  wall  that  went 
clear  through  to  the  outside.  A  couple 
came  along  and  saw  it  and  laughed — 
I  suppose  they  thought  children  were 
playing,  as  children  do  in  abandoned 
houses.  Then  we  printed  one  reading 
'For  Rent' — and,  David,  do  you  know 
a  man  came  up  and  knocked  and  tried 
to  get  in?  There's  the  housing  shortage 
for  you!  That  anyone  would  think  of 
renting  that  ramshackle  old  building — " 

"It  was  a  peach  of  a  hiding  place," 
said  David  grimly.  "You  could  have 
been  shut  up  there  forever  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  the  fire." 

Sally  nodded.    "That  was  our  pros- 


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pective  tenant.  He  knocked  for  the 
longest  time,  and  couldn't  hear  us 
shouting — and  then  when  he  left,  he 
knocked  his  pipe  out  on  the  porch.  Cf 
course  the  dry  woods  and  the  old  wood 
caught  like  tinder.  And,  oh,  David,  if 
the  pilot  of  that  plane  hadn't  signalled 
the  airport  right  away  that  the  house 
was  burning — " 

"Don't  think  about  it,"  said  David. 
"Right  now,  there's  a  warrant  out  for 
Clifford  Putnam." 

"Clifford!"  Sally's  heart  dropped. 
"But,  David,  I'm  sure  he's  as  much  a 
victim  as  Aldin  in  all  this.  I  told  you 
about   them — " 

"All  the  same,"  said  David,  "he 
didn't  take  that  cruise  as  he  said.  He's 
in  hiding  somewhere,  which  makes 
things  look  pretty  suspicious  for  him." 

Aldin's  reaction,  when  she  was  told 
that  the  police  were  looking  for  Clif- 
ford, was  even  more  emphatic. 

"But  why?"  she  demanded  to  know. 
"You  can't  think  he  had  anything  to 
do  with — " 

"I  don't  know,"  said  David  patiently. 
"And  you  needn't  worry  I'll  print  any- 
thing about  it  before  I  find  out." 

"You'd  better  not!"  Aldin  cried 
fiercely.  "You  can't  prove  anything  I've 
told  you  and  Sally.  And  if  you  write 
one  word  about  our  engagement,  or  if 
you  do  anything  to  hurt  Clifford,  I'll 
deny  the  whole  story!  And  then — 
where  will  you  be?" 

"You  see,"  said  Sally,  when  David 
told  her  about  it,  later,  on  their  way 
home.  "She  loves  him.  And  Clifford 
loves  her;  he'd  die  before  he'd  do  any- 
thing to  hurt  her.    I  just  know." 

"Oh,  you  do!"  David  jeered  fondly. 
"How  can  you  be  so  sure?" 

"Because  I  love  you,"  she  answered 
seriously. 

"Sally  Farrell's  own  emotional 
radar,"  David  said.  But  then  he  gath- 
ered her  close  and  kissed  her,  unmind- 
ful of  the  cab  driver's  knowing  eye.  "I 
was  scared,"  he  whispered  huskily. 

Very  carefully  he  handed  her  down 
from  the  cab  as  it  stopped  at  their 
apartment.  The  hall  inside  was  dim  and 
shadowy  after  the  bright  day  outside; 
David  kept  tight  hold  on  Sally,  half- 
carried  her  to  their  door.  They  both 
jumped  as  one  of  the  shadows  in  the 
hall  moved  toward  them,  and  spoke. 

"Farrell — I've  been  waiting  for  you. 
I  want  to  talk  to  you.  I've  got  to  talk 
to  you — " 

David  looked  coolly  up  at  the  tall, 
expensively  dressed  length  of  Clifford 
Putnam.  "Talk  to  the  police,"  he  sug- 
gested. "My  wife's  just  been  through  a 
bad  time,  and  you're  at  least  partly 
responsible." 

"I  ET  him  come  in,  David,"  Sally  said 
L  softly.  She  had  observed  a  fine 
beading  of  sweat  across  Clifford  Put- 
nam's brow,  and  he  looked  as  if  he  had 
slept  badly.    "Perhaps  he  can  help  us." 

Grudgingly,  playing  young  Putnam 
along,  David  let  him  in,  and  called 
the  police  station  to  withdraw  the  com- 
plaint against  him.  Clifford  sighed  with 
relief. 

"I  appreciate  that,"  he  said.  "I  don't 
know  why  you  had  the  police  looking 
for  me,  but  I  do  know  I  played  a  rotten 
trick  on  you.  Look,  I'll  give  you  an- 
other exclusive  interview  on  the  sub- 
ject of  the  first  one.  I'll  state  that  my 
original  announcement  that  I  intended 
to  be  married  was  correct  as  reported 
by  you  in  the  Eagle,  but  that  later  the 
young  lady  broke  her  engagement  and 
that  I  was  touchy  enough  to  just  deny 
the  whole  thing.  If  you  don't  trust  me, 
I'll  sign  a  statement  in  the  presence 
of  witnesses." 


"You're  so  good  to  me,"  said  David. 
"But  why?" 

"Well,  I've  a  conscience,"  said  Clif- 
'  ford.  "And  I  realize  your  reputation  is 
worth  a  lot  to  you — " 

"A  belated  conclusion,  but  a  good 
one,"  David  admitted. 

"And  then,"  Clifford  went  on,  "I'm 
worried  about  Aldin.  All  I  know  is 
that  she  broke  our  engagement.  I 
don't  know  why.  I  don't  know  why 
you  were  beaten  or  why  she  was  'kid- 
napped. But  I'm  afraid  that  whoever 
was  after  her  might  try  it  again." 

Sally  shot  a  triumphant  glance  at 
David,  as  if  to  say,  "There!  I  told  you 
he  cared,"  but  David  ignored  it  for  the 
moment.  "You  mean,"  he  said  curi- 
ously to  Clifford,  "that  you  don't  know 
Aldin  has  a  great-aunt  of  the  same 
name  living  here  in  New  York?" 

Clifford  shook  his  head.  "No.  She's 
never  mentioned  any  relatives  to  me. 
How  do  you  know  about  this  great- 
aunt?" 

1GOT  two  answers  to  the  advertise- 
ment I  ran  for  Aldin  Westwood," 
David  answered.  "One  was  from  the 
guy  who  promised  to  take  me  to  her 
and  instead  took  me  into  an  alley  and 
had  me  beaten.  The  other  was  from  a 
very  respectable,  not  to  say  stuffy,  firm 
of  lawyers,  who  said  that  their  client, 
old  Miss  Westwood,  lived  in  complete 
seclusion  and  wanted  no  publicity  of 
any  kind.  Sally  and  I  went  up  to  her 
apartment  and  were  told  the  same  story 
by  the  superintendent.  She  said  old 
Miss  Westwood  hasn't  had  any  com- 
pany, hasn't  gone  out  of  her  apartment 
for  the  past  thirty-odd  years,  except 
for  a  daily  walk  which  she  takes  at 
dawn." 

"Well,  I'll  be—"  Clifford  shook  his 
head,  dazed.  Then  he  turned  to  Sally, 
who  was  fairly  bursting,  torn  between 
the  desire  to  reassure  Clifford  and  the 
fear  that  David  would  talk  too  much 
and  give  Aldin  away.  "If  you  know  all 
this,"  he  said,  "do  you  know  why  Aldin 
broke  our  engagement?" 

"I  can't  tell  you  that  yet,"  said  Sally. 
"But  I  can  tell  you  this — she  still  loves 
you." 

"You're  sure?"  Clifford  asked  ex- 
citedly. As  Sally  nodded,  he  swung 
toward  David.  "That's  all  I  need  to 
know." 

Later  that  afternoon,  David  and  Sally 
occupied  a  pair  of  deep  leather  chairs  in 
the  formal  offices  of  Black  and  Stone, 
lawyers,  and  listened  to  the  story  of  the 
older  Miss  Aldin  Westwood. 

"My  client's  story,"  Mr.  Stone  said, 
"goes  back  about  thirty-five  years.  At 
that  time.  Miss  Westwood  was  about 
thirty.  She  hadn't  married,  but  she 
was  rather  attractive  and  perfectly 
normal,  I've  been  told.  And  immensely 
wealthy.  Her  father  was  dead;  she  and 
her  mother  lived  very  quietly  in  the 
same  apartment  old  Miss  Westwood  oc- 
cupies now.  Then,  on  one  Fourth  of 
July,  there  was  a  terrible  accident.  Miss 
Westwood  had  been  doing  social  work 
with  poor  children  on  the  other  side  of 
town.  She'd  bought  up  perhaps  a  hun- 
dred dollars'  worth  of  fireworks  for 
them.  Her  mother  was  afraid  of  fire- 
works, but  Miss  Westwood  insisted.  It 
turned  out  her  mother  knew  best. 
Somehow,  a  Roman  candle  and  some 
other  things  went  off  before  the  cele- 
bration, right  in  the  apartment.  Miss 
Westwood's  mother  was  burned,  so 
badly  that  she  died  two  days  later. 
Something  snapped  inside  Miss  West- 
wood,  you  might  say.  Her  mother's 
funeral  was  the  last  public  appearance 
old  Miss  Westwood  ever  made.  She  re- 
turned   to    her    apartment    afterward. 


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R 

M 

91 


soared... 


when 
I  learned 
about 
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a  picture  of  remarkable  improvement  on 
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ternally, discarding  the  whole  harness 
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will  find,  Tampax  is  not  only  invisible 
but  unfelt — and  the  difference  it  makes 
is  amazing. 

Made  of  highly  absorbent  cotton, 
Tampax  was  invented  by  a  doctor  for 
this  special  purpose.  The  wonder  of 
Tampax  is  that  nothing  about  it  will 
remind  you  of  the  occasion.  No  bulky  pad 
to  hamper  your  movements  or  show  its 
edge-lines  under  dresses.  No  possibility 
of  chafing.  No  odor  can  form 
.  .  .  Tampax  comes  in  applica- 
tors for  easy  insertion.  Chang- 
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bath  while  wearing  Tampax. 
Three  absorbencies  (Regular,  Super, 
Junior)  for  varying  needs.  At  drug 
stores  and  notion  counters.  Average 
month's  supply  fits  into  purse;  4 
months'  average  supply  comes  in  an 
economy  box.  Tampax  Incorporated, 
Palmer,  Mass. 


92 


Accepted  for  Advertising 
by  the  Journal  of  the  American  Medical  Association 


and  has  never  left  it  since. 

"None  of  us  in  the  office  have  ever 
seen  her.  Now  that  we're  losing  her  as 
a  client,  I'm  likely  never  to  see  her." 

"Losing  her?"  David's  head  came  up 
sharply. 

"Why,  yes,"  said  Mr.  Stone.  "About 
a  month  ago  Miss  Westwood  sent  us 
written  instructions,  directing  us  to 
turn  her  entire  estate  into  cash.  She'll 
probably  hide  all  that  cash  in  her  mat- 
tress and  not  bother  with  Black  and 
Stone.  And  just  between  us,"  he 
chuckled  drily,  "Black  and  Stone  won't 
mind  in  the  least."  He  rose,  evidently 
considering  the  interview  at  an  end. 
"That's  all  I  know,  Mr.  Farrell.  We 
didn't  know  young  Miss  Westwood  was 
engaged;  certainly  we've  never  threat- 
ened to  cut  off  her  allowance  if  she 
didn't  break  the  engagement.  There  is 
no  Mr.  Boyle,  who  you  say  threatened 
young  Aldin,  in  our  firm.  Good  day, 
now!  if  I  can  be  of  any  assistance 
later.  .  .  ."  So  there  seemed  nothing 
left  but  to  see  old  Miss  Westwood  her- 
self. 

At  dawn  the  next  morning,  David 
and  Sally  toiled  up  several  flights  of 
stairs  in  the  old  but  still  fashionable 
apartment  house  on  Central  Park  West. 
Mr.  Lind,  the  superintendent  whom 
they'd  talked  with  on  their  previous 
visit,  was  not  around;  they  had  found 
the  elevator  operator  asleep,  and  so 
they  had  taken  to  the  stairs,  thankful 
that  there  was  no  one  to  question  them. 

They  waited  in  the  dimness  of  an 
upper  corridor  until  a  door  opened 
silently  a  few  feet  away  and  a  tall, 
veiled  figure  came  out.  Sally  felt  her 
hair  rise  and  clutched  David's  arm.  He 
pulled  away  and  stepped  quickly  over 
to  the  woman,  placing  himself  strategi- 
cally between  her  and  her  apartment 
door. 

The  woman  gasped,  gave  a  little 
shriek  of  anguish.  "Don't  be  alarmed. 
Miss  Westwood,"  said  David  soothingly. 
"I  only  want  to  talk  to  you — " 

"You  want  to  rob  me!"  she  cried.  "Go 
away — " 

"Of  course  not,"  said  David.  "I'm  a 
newspaper  reporter.  Miss  Westwood, 
and  this  is  my  wife.  Our  name  is 
Farrell,  and  it's  very  important  that 
we  talk  to  you.  Do  you  know  that  your 
grand-niece  almost  lost  her  life  in  a 
fire   yesterday?" 

The  woman  shrank  back  against  the 
wall.  "What  do  I  care?  Her  life  is 
hers  and  mine  is  mine.    Go  away!" 

"We  have  to  find  out  who  is  respons- 
ible for  what  almost  happened  to  your 
niece,"  David  persisted.  "If  you  won't 
let  us  in  and  talk  to  us,  the  police  will 


come.    You'll   have   to   talk   to    them." 

"The  police!  In  my  apartment!  I 
won't  permit  it — " 

"I'm  afraid  you'll  have  to,"  David 
told  her.  "So  why  not  talk  to  us  instead? 
It'll  only  take  a  few  minutes,  and  it 
can't  do  you  any  harm.  Why,  we  can't 
even  see  your  face  through  that  veil!" 

"Are  you  sure?"  The  black  folds  of 
the  veil  quivered  as  she  turned  her 
head  in  Sally's  direction,  then  in 
David's.  Then  she  said,  "Well,  come 
in  then — but  I  won't  let  you  stay  long." 

Cautiously  David  stepped  away  from 
the  door  and  Miss  Westwood  opened  it 
and  preceded  them  inside,  wailing, 
"You've  ruined  my  day!  My  poor,  poor, 
beautiful  day — ruined!   Sit  down." 

Sally  obeyed  reluctantly.  A  closer 
view  of  Miss  Westwood,  in  ancient  black 
coat,  shapeless  black  hat,  and  of  course 
the  thick  black  veil,  did  nothing  to 
soothe  the  prickling  of  her  scalp.  The 
apartment  itself  was  more  reassuring: 
It  was  surprisingly  clean  and  well  kept; 
the  old,  heavy  furniture  was  neatly 
arranged. 

"Now,  then,"  said  David,  "did  you 
know,  Miss  Westwood,  that  your  grand- 
niece  was  engaged  to  marry  Clifford 
Putnam?" 

"Of  course!"  the  old  voice  cackled. 
"Aldin  wrote  me — on  very  expensive 
stationery,  too!  Imagine  my  money 
being  spent  on  expensive  stationery!" 

"And  were  you  opposed  to  the  en- 
gagement on  the  grounds  that  Putnam's 
prominence  would  bring  the  name  of 
Aldin  Westwood  into  the  newspapers?" 

"Certainly  I  was  opposed!  But  what 
could  I  do  about  it?" 

"You  might  have  sent  one  of  your 
lawyers  to  warn  Aldin  that  you  were 
cutting  off  her  allowance  if  she 
didn't  break  her  engagement,"  David 
answered. 

"Cut  off  her  allowance!"  The  old 
woman  sounded  genuinely  astonished. 
"Do  you  take  me  for  a  fool?  Aldin 
wrote  me  her  young  man  was  very  rich. 
Why  should  she  care  about  my  money?" 

"Because,"  Sally  put  in  breathlessly, 
"Aldin  made  the  terrible  mistake  of 
letting  Clifford  think  that  she  was  rich, 
too.  And  when  you  told  her  you'd  stop 
sending  money  unless  she  broke  off 
with  him — " 

"But  I  didn't!"  Miss  Westwood  pro- 
tested.   "I  never  heard — " 

"You  didn't  warn  Aldin  not  to  speak 
to  me  or  my  wife?"  David  asked.  "You 
didn't  hire  men  to  drive  her  away  and 
tie  her  up  in  an  old  house?" 

The  black  veil  shook  indignantly.  "I 
never  in  my  life  heard  such  nonsense! 
I   don't    hire    anyone    to    do    anything, 


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I 


except  my  lawyers!  And  I'm  getting 
rid  of  them  very  soon,  too — don't  think 
I'm  not!  And  now,  Mr.  Farrow,  if 
you'll  take  yourself  and  your  wife  and 
your  ridiculous  conversation — " 

"The  name  is  Farrell,"  said  David, 
but  Miss  Westwood  wasn't  interested  in 
anything  he  had  to  say.  He  and  Sally 
found  themselves  in  the  hall,  almost  as 
if  blown  there  by  sheer  force  of  the  old 
woman's  will. 

David  wiped  his  forehead.  "I'm 
stumped,"  he  admitted.  "I  thought  sure 
the  old  girl  held  the  key  to  all  this 
mystery- — " 

But  Sally  wasn't  listening  to  him. 
Her  pretty  brow  was  furrowed  in  con- 
centration; clearly,  she  was  following 
long  thoughts  of  her  own. 

"Isn't  it  funny,  David,"  she  said, 
"how  neat  the  apartment  was?  In  all 
the  stories  of  old  recluses  I  ever  read, 
their  rooms  were  always  dirty  and 
loaded  with  junk.  This  one  was  so 
neat — I  think  someone  helped  her 
clean  it." 

"I'm  not  interested  in  her  house- 
keeping problems,"  David  began.  And 
then  he  stopped,  catching  his  wife's  eye. 
"You  mean  there  must  be  an  accumu- 
lation somewhere — " 

"Hidden,"  said  Sally,  nodding.  "And 
something  in  it  just  might  tell  us 
something,  David.  Maybe  I'm  being 
silly,  but  that  clean  apartment  just 
doesn't  look  right  to  me." 

DAVID  was  already  starting  for  the 
stairs.  "The  cellar,"  he  said.  "I've  a 
hunch  you're  right,  Sally.  In  a  building 
like  this,  there  must  be  storage  com- 
partments in  the  cellar — " 

There  were.  In  the  cellar,  they  found 
each  compartment  neatly  labeled  with 
the  number  of  its  apartment — and 
strongly  padlocked.  And  then  their 
luck  gave  out  completely.  David  was 
tinkering  with  the  lock  when  he  heard 
footsteps  and  a  voice  calling,  "Hello! 
Hello — who's   there?" 

"Lind,  the  superintendent,"  David 
muttered.    "Blast  it — " 

"Ask  him,"  Sally  urged.  "He  was  aw- 
fully nice  to  us  the  other  day.  Mr. 
Lind!"  she  called,  raising  her  voice. 
"It's  us,  the  Farrells.   Can  you  help  us?" 

The  superintendent's  stocky  figure 
rounded  the  corner  from  the  basement 
hall.  "So  it  is!"  he  exclaimed.  "What 
are  you  doing  down  here?" 

"We'd  like  to  look  inside  Miss  West- 
wood's  storage  room,"  Sally  answered. 
"We've  just  seen  her  in  her  apart- 
ment— " 

"In  her  apartment!"  The  man's  light 
blue  eyes  popped.  "You  couldn't!  She 
never  lets  anyone  in — " 

"She  let  us  in,"  said  David.  "She 
had  to — or  face  the  police.  I  don't  want 
to  threaten  you,  Mr.  Lind,  but  you've 
got  about  the  same  choice — " 

"No,  no,"  said  Lind  hastily.  "I  didn't 
realize  it  was  that  serious.  Of  course 
I'll  let  you  in.  Anything  for  a  news- 
paperman,  huh?" 

He  shook  out  a  huge  ring  of  keys,  un- 
locked the  heavy  fireproof  door.  David 
stepped  into  the  dark  cavern,  Sally 
after  him.  "Where's  the  light  here?" 
David  asked.  "Or  could  you  let  us 
have  a  flashlight,  Mr.  Lind — " 

The  door  shut  behind  them,  plunging 
them  into  complete  blackness.  "Lind!" 
David  shouted.  "What — "  But  he 
didn't  need  to  ask.  The  click  of  the 
padlock,  heard  faintly  through  the  door, 
told  him  all  he  needed  to  know.  They 
were  locked  in. 

"He  did  it  deliberately!"  Sally  cried. 
"Oh,  David—" 

He  put  his  arms  around  her  in  the 
dark,  trying  to  think  of  words  to  com- 


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fort  her,  even  while  he  knew  there  was 
no  comfort.  All  the  grim  facts — and 
even  a  hint  of  the  reason  behind  them — 
had  arranged  themselves  in  his  mind 
at  once,  falling  into  place  like  the  tum- 
blers in  a  lock.  The  room  was  window- 
less,  airtight — a  vault.  And  Lind 
wouldn't  be  coming  back  to  let  them 
out.  Lind  was  the  logical  climax  and 
the  key  to  the  grim  side  of  the  curious 
story  of  the  two  Aldin  Westwoods. 

He  said,  "Sally.  Sally,  darling — " 
and  then  he  couldn't  go  on.  "We're  get- 
ting out  of  here;  we've  been  in  tighter 
spots  before."  He  struck  another  match. 
"Junk,"  he  muttered.  "Old  newspapers, 
tin  cans,  empty  bottle,  and — Sally!" 

"The  fireworks!"  she  marvelled,  gaz- 
ing at  the  bright  red  paper  streaked 
gray  and  yellow  with  time.  "Oh,  David, 
she  kept  even  them — " 

"Hold  these."  He  handed  her  his  box 
of  matches.  "Keep  them  going — not  too 
close.    I'm  going  to  try  something — •" 

He  was  busy  splitting  the  rotting 
paper  of  the  skyrockets,  the  Roman 
candles,  the  firecrackers.  Sally  lighted 
matches  and  watched — for  hours,  it 
seemed — while  he  emptied  the  powder 
into  a  tin  can,  tamped  it  down,  made  a 
long  fuse  by  tying  several  short  ones  to- 
gether, and  braced  the  contraption 
against  the  door  with  a  rusty  flatiron 
backed  by  a  heavy  old  chair. 

"Here  we  go,"  he  murmured,  and 
touched  a  match  to  the  fuse.  "Come 
on,  Sally — "  Backed  against  the  far 
wall  they  watched  breathlessly  while 
the  tiny  pin  point  of  fire  ran  down  the 
fuse,  and  sputtered  briefly  bright,  and 
dimmed  to  nothing. 

"Out,"  moaned  Sally.  "David — " 
There  was  a  blinding  flash,  a  roar,  then 
a  triangle  of  daylight  as  the  door  sagged 
open  on  its  hinges. 

Not  twenty  minutes  later  he  and 
Sally,  and  Lieutenant  Carpenter  from 
Police  Headquarters,  were  back  up- 
stairs, confronting  an  enraged  Aldin 
Westwood. 

"How  dare  you?"  she  demanded.  "I 
don't  care  if  this  man  is  from  the  police 
— I  never  see  anybody!" 

"Ask  the  lady  to  remove  her  veil. 
Lieutenant  Carpenter,"  David  sug- 
gested smoothly.  "Or  ask  her  if  she'd 
rather  have  a  police  matron  do  it  for 
her.  What  do  you  say.  Miss  Westwood?" 

"Have  it  your  way."  Miss  Westwood's 
voice  was  suddenly  no  longer  old  and 
cracked,  and  it  lost  its  elegant  accents. 
The  veil,  the  shapeless  hat  came  off. 
Hard  dark  eyes  stared  defiantly  at 
them  out  of  a  face  that  might  have  been 
forty  years  old,  but  certainly  no  older. 

"Better    talk,"    said    the   Lieutenant. 


"The  more  you  hide,  the  harder  it'll  be 
for  you.     Name?" 

"Marie  Johnson,"  said  the  woman 
sullenly. 

"Go  on,"  David  urged  as  she  stopped. 
"There's  a  lot  involved  in  this,  includ- 
ing possibly  murder." 

"No!"  she  exploded.  "No  murder! 
Nobody  killed  the  old  woman.  She — 
she  just  died."  The  words  came  fast 
now,  once  she'd  started.  "She  died 
about  two  months  ago.  You  know  the 
way  she  lived,  never  seeing  anyone,  so 
nobody  knew  she  was  dead  except  Lind. 
He  noticed  the  grocery  boys  weren't 
delivering  to  her  door  any  more,  and 
he  forced  his  way  in  and  found  her 
dead.  So  he  got  smart.  He  got  in 
touch  with  his  friend  Boyle,  and  Boyle 
called  me  in.  I  used  to  be  on  the  stage 
in  my  younger  days,  and  it  was  a  cinch 
to  take  the  old  girl's  place.  I  wrote 
letters  to  her  lawyers  and  forged  her 
name — " 

"Why?"  interrupted  the  Lieutenant. 
David  answered  for  her. 

"Lieutenant,  these  three  sharpsters 
wrote  forged  letters  to  Miss  West- 
wood's  lawyers  ordering  them  to  con- 
vert all  of  her  holdings  into  cash  and 
to  deliver  it  here.  Once  they  got  their 
hands  on  all  that  money — " 

"It  almost  worked,  too,"  said  Marie 
bitterly.  "The  cash  was  to  be  all  ready 
in  a  few  days.  And  then  that  kid  had 
to  go  and  get  herself  engaged  to  Clif- 
ford Putnam,  no  less!  Well,  when  we 
knew  that,  we  knew  it  wouldn't  be  long 
before  people  learned  about  the  other 
Aldin  Westwood  and  would  come 
snooping  around." 

"And  you  could  hardly  stand  pub- 
licity," said  David  drily.  "You  can 
take  Miss  Johnson  to  Headquarters, 
Lieutenant,  along  with  her  friend  Lind. 
I  think  Sally's  and  ipy  part  in  this  is 
over." 

It  was  over,  and  everything  had 
turned  out  far  better  than  Sally  had 
thought  was  possible.  Aldin  telephoned 
her  the  next  day  from  Fairhaven,  to 
say  that  Clifford  Putnam  had  sought 
her  out,  and  that  they  were  going  to  be 
married  as  soon  as  she  finished  school. 
David  had  a  talk  with  Mr.  Stone  of 
Black  and  Stone,  and  found  that  young 
Aldin  was,  or  was  about  to  be,  wealthy 
in  her  own  right — she  would  inherit 
every  penny  of  her  great  aunt's  estate. 

"How  ironic,"  Sally  said  when  David 
told  her  about  it.  "All  of  this  came  out 
because  Aldin  thought  she  was  poor 
and  was  afraid  to  tell  Clifford.  And  all 
the  while  she  was  as  rich  as — as — " 

"As  I  am  in  having  you,"  said  David, 
bending   to   kiss   the   tip   of   her   nose. 


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Oh,  Brother! 

(Continued  from  page  25) 

will  not  jump  on  no  matter  what  their 
politics. 

Bing  is  as  non-partisan  as  Grant's 
Tomb.  He  is  the  successor  to  the  cliche, 
"As  American  as  apple  pie."  Tomor- 
row's stereotype,  I'm  sure,  will  be,  "As 
American  as  Bing  Crosby." 

He  is  the  hero  of  many  of  my  boy- 
hood memories.  When  he  was  in  his  late 
teens  he  always  was  rushing  home  with 
exciting  news— or  a  shiner.  And  Mom 
would  tell  me  either  it  was  time  for  me 
to  go  to  sleep,  or  that  I  had  better  play 
in  another  room  because  this  was  stuff 
for  grown-ups  to  mull. 

Whenever  Bing  patted  me  on  the  head 
or  punched  me  kiddingly  on  the  chin, 
I  sparkled  like  a  Christmas  tree.  I 
passed  myself  off  as  the  neighborhood 
expert  on  Bing,  and  I  felt  a  vicarious 
importance  shared,  I  was  certain,  by  no 
other  urchin  in  all  of  Spokane. 


I  REMEMBER  walking  down  the  street 
with  my  father,  and  how  he  liked  to 
stop  and  chat  with  friends  about  Bing. 
His  favorite  story  concerned  the  time 
Bing  beat  up  a  neighborhood  bully  al- 
most twice  his  size.  The  bully's  father 
had  demanded  satisfaction — meaning  a 
parental  licking  for  Bing.  Dad  had 
promised  to  punish  Bing  as  requested. 
He  picked  up  a  formidable  piece  of 
kindling  wood  and  ushered  Bing  to  the 
cellar.  When  they  got  inside  the  stor- 
age room.  Dad  dropped  the  wood,  put 
his  arm  around  Bing's  shoulder,  and 
chuckled,  "How  many  times  did  you 
drop  him?" 

Bing  soon  was  so  busy  and  traveled 
so  far  getting  famous,  keeping  America 
happy,  and  stuffing  money  into  the  lin- 
ing of  his  clothes,  that  he  came  home 
only  often  enough  to  keep  up  his  citi- 
zenship and  get  his  passport  stamped. 
Also  long  enough  to  remind  us — al- 
though it  scarcely  was  necessary — why 
we  loved  him  so  much. 

It  was  eight  months  after  we  ex- 
changed those  deathless  greetings  at 
Bel-Air  golf  course  before  Bing  and  I 
saw  each  other  again. 

I  take  that  back.  I  can  say,  confident- 
ly, only  that  I  didn't  see  Bing  during 
that  period.  Bing  may  have  seen  me. 
It  might  as  well  come  out  now  as  later: 
Bing  spies  on  me. 

He  skulks  unseen  from  the  American 
Broadcasting  Company  studios  at  Sun- 
set and  Vine,  in  Hollywood,  to  nearby 
Columbia  Square,  nods  to  a  CBS  usher 
who  is  under  his  hypnotic  spell,  and 
stands  in  the  rear  of  Studio  C,  watch- 
ing me  go  through  my  paces  in  my  five- 
times- weekly  (free  advt.)  Club  15 
show. 

How  do  I  know  about  his  surreptitious 
meanderings?  The  boys  in  Jerry  Gray's 
orchestra  tell  me. 

During  one  of  my  more  extended 
audiences  with  my  kin,  I  penetrated  the 
tinsel  curtain  which  keeps  one  Crosby 
out  of  the  hair  of  another — in  a  certain 
case,  such  hair  as  there  is  to  be  kept 
out  of. 

Bing  asked  me  how  many  men  were 
in  the  Club  15  orchestra  conducted  by 
Jerry  Gray. 

"Eleven,"  I  responded  glumly.  I  was 
aware,  as  I  knew  Bing  was,  that  it  rep- 
resented a  relatively  small  number  for 
a  network  orchestra. 

"You  keep  'em  blowing  all  the  time, 
don't  you?"  Bing  smiled. 

I  felt  a  warm  glow  all  over.  I  thought 
how  nice  it  was  for  Bing  to  take  such  a 
brotherly  interest  in  a  mere  brother. 


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96 


It  proved,  to  my  delight,  that  Bing 
actually  listened  to  my  show.  That's 
more  than  I  can  say  about  his  program 
on  ABC.  I  never  tune  Bing  in  on  the 
air,  play  his  records  or  see  his  movies. 
It's  not  that  I  don't  know  and  admire 
him  as  the  country's  greatest  enter- 
tainer. It's  simply  that  I  am  so  eas- 
ily cast  under  his  spell  that  if  I  exposed 
myself  to  his  talent  I  might  subcon- 
sciously end  up  aping  him. 

In  addition  to  groaners,  two  other 
things  run  in  the  Crosby  clan — fires  and 
boys.  So  far,  Bing  has  monopolized  the 
fires  and  the  boys. 

Poor  Bing  seems  bewildered  that  I, 
youngest  of  the  five  Crosby  males, 
should  be  able  to  sire  a  girl  when  all 
his  progeny  are  boys. 

Of  course,  I'm  not  the  only  Crosby 
with  a  daughter.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
Ted  achieved  that  distinction  before  I 
did.  That  makes  two  things  Ted  does 
better  than  Bing.  Most  mortals — with 
good  reason — regard  Bing  as  a  non- 
pareil in  the  art  of  turning  a  greenback. 
But  Ted,  quietly  hibernating  in  his  pri- 
vate Fort  Knox  in  Spokane,  is  in  a  posi- 
tion to  lend  Bing  money.  He  is  in  the 
used  car  business. 

BING,  I  suspect,  is  willing  to  overlook 
Ted's  riches,  but  when  Ted  hit  the 
paternity  jackpot  with  twin  girls, 
that  rankled. 

Ted  jubilantly  dispatched  a  telegram 
to  Bing  on  the  great  night: 

"Just  had  pair  of  queens.  Congratu- 
late me." 

Several  months  later,  Bing's  twin 
boys  were  born.   He  wired  Ted: 

"Just  had  two  kings.  Kings  heat 
queens." 

1  suppose  it's  okay  now  to  admit  that 
when  I  was  a  lieutenant  in  the  5th 
Marine  Division  and  Fleet  Marine 
Force,  I  wasn't  past  dropping  Bing's 
name  to  impress  my  buddies — and  the 
Japs. 

When  word  got  around  the  bomb- 
banged  Pacific  that  we  might  partici- 
pate in  the  invasion  of  Japan,  I  made 
plans  to  get  a  huge  sign  painted.  I  was 
going  to  hold  it  high  over  my  head  for 
all  to  see  the  moment  we  hit  the  beach. 
It  was  to  proclaim  in  big  Japanese  let- 
ters: 

"Don't  shoot.   This  is  Bing's  brother." 

My  C.O.s  in  the  Pacific  were  con- 
stantly on  my  neck,  asking  me  to  use 
my  influence  to  persuade  Bing  to  come 
over  to  entertain  the  Leathernecks, 
whom  incidentally  I  consider  the  most 
neglected  fighting  men,  USO-wise,  in 
the  entire  war. 

It  would  have  been  easier  if  I  had 
been  ordered  to  snatch  a  uranium  de- 
posit out  of  Hirohito's  snuflE  box.  But 
the  Marines,  bless  'em,  wanted  Bing. 
I  tried  to  bargain  with  them.  I  told 
them  my  folks  thought  I  looked  some- 
thing like  Bing — handsomer,  but  simi- 
lar— and  some  misguided  radio  listen- 
ers labored  under  the  foolish  delusion 
that  I  sang  something  like  Bing.  I 
would  be  willing  to  drop  my  modesty 
completely   and  sing  for  them. 

They  would  have  no  part  of  a  coun- 
terfeit Crosby.  They  were  set  unalter- 
ably on  having  Bing  hit  the  road  to 
Palau,  and  I  had  to  tackle  the  most 
difficult  mission  of  the  war.  Bring  Bing 
to  the  Pacific. 

I  began  trading  communiques  with 
Bing.  He  had  no  desire  to  let  me  or  the 
Marines  down.  He  would  be  honored 
to  entertain  in  the  Pacific.  But  since 
he  could  not  get  there  from  Hollywood 
by  gopher  hole,  one  other  established 
rnethod  of  transportation  seemed  open 
to  him.   He  would  have  to  fly. 

Bing   has   nothing   against   progress. 


Flying  is  all  right  with  him  as  long  as 
it  is  restricted  to  birds  and  persons 
other  than  Bing  Crosby.  His  object,  he 
pointed  out,  was  to  sing  for  the  troops, 
not  the  sharks. 

I  asked  Bing  once  why  he  refused  to 

fly. 

"My  arms  get  tired,"  he  said. 

Our  problem,  consequently,  was  to 
line  up  a  journey  by  Navy  transport. 
Finally,  the  trip  was  charted. 

But  news  that  Bing  was  on  his  way 
to  the  Pacific  must  have  leaked.  The 
Japs  tossed  in  the  towel.  There  no 
longer  were  any  embattled  troops  for 
Bing  to  entertain. 

Once  while  I  was  foxholing  it  on  the 
Pacific,  I  got  a  letter  from  Kate,  fairest 
and  greatest  Crosby  of  them  all,  my 
mother  and  Bing's.  This  particular  let- 
ter I  cannot  forget. 

It  reached  me  late  in  1944,  and  my 
mother  poured  out  her  heart  to  me. 
She  told  me  how  worried  she  was — 
about  Bing.  Poor  Bing — roughing  it 
with  the  USO  in  deepest  London.  I 
really  appreciated  that  my  mother  con- 
fided her  apprehension  to  me.  I  could 
certainly  sympathize  with  her — since 
I  was  reading  her  mail  in  Palau,  then 
quaking  under  merciless  Jap  bombard- 
ment. 

My  pique  didn't  last  long,  however. 
I  realized  that  my  mother  had  no  way 
of  knowing  where  I  was,  and  I  got  to 
feeling  real  noble  by  telling  myself 
how  glad  I  was  that  she  didn't  have  to 
worry  about  me. 

For  that  matter,  my  mother  is  not 
the  only  member  of  the  Worry-About- 
Bing  Club.  I  paid  my  dues  a  couple  of 
years  ago  after  the  outbreak  of  one  of 
those  Crosby  fires  I  mentioned  earlier. 

Bing's  ranch-type  English  town  house 
in  San  Fernando  Valley  was  gutted  by 
fire.  His  wife,  Dixie,  called  me  fran- 
tically on  the  phone.  I  didn't  live  far 
away.  I  jumped  into  my  car,  and  ar- 
rived at  Crosby's  inferno  in  time  to 
see  the  flames  hotfooting  the  peaceful 
valley  clouds. 

I  exchanged  a  few  hurried  words 
with  Dixie  to  make  sure  everyone  had 
gotten  out  safely.  Then  I  rushed  inside 
to  rescue  some  prized  possessions.  A 
handful  of  Bing's  friends  had  reached 
the  burning  house. 

ONE  of  them,  songwriter  Johnny 
Burke,  finally  located  Bing  at  the 
Brown  Derby. 

"Get  right  down,"  Johnny  cried. 
"Your  house  is  on  fire." 

"All  right,"  Bing  said.  "As  soon 
as  I  stick  Fred  Astairie  with  the  check." 

Bing  got  there  dressed  in  his  usual 
conservative  manner — slacks  and  col- 
ors-of-the-rainbow  sport  shirt. 

"Bob,"  he  asked  gravely,  "have  you 
been  in  the  house  at  all?" 

I  nodded,  and  broke  the  news  to  him 
straight. 

"I'm  afraid  your  records  and  your 
pipes  are  gone,"  I  told  him.  I  knew 
what  a  blow  this  must  be,  because  Bing 
treasured  his  record  collection  dearly 
and  set  no  less  store  by  his  pipes. 

Bing  snatched  up  a  lantern,  nudged 
me,  and  indicated  the  burning  debris. 
We  played  Rover  Boy  and  went  inside. 
I  knew  all  the  family  was  safe,  but 
Bing  seemed  too  wrought  up  to  ques- 
tion. I  decided  if  he  wanted  to  risk  our 
necks  to  get  something  out  of  the  house, 
he  had  good  reason. 

I  followed  him,  like  a  good  soldier, 
through  the  charred,  smoking  build- 
ing, somehow  expecting  him  to  make  a 
last  ditch  effort  to  salvage  what  he 
could  of  his  records  and  pipes. 

He  paid  no  attention  to  them. 

We  didn't  stop  until  we  came  to  the 


shoe    closet.     Then    he    said    to    me: 

"Here,  hold  this  lantern.  I've  got  to 
work  fast." 

I  held  the  lantern  dutifully — and 
gaped  at  what  my  brother  was  doing. 

He  was  going  through  one  old  shoe 
after  another,  snaking  his  hand  inside 
the  toe  and  pulling  out  a  roll  of  bills 
from  each.  He  stuffed  the  money  into 
all  his  pockets  until  he  looked  like  a 
porcupine  begotten  by  the  U.S.  mint. 

Bing  straightened  up,  a  look  of  relief 
on  his  perspiring  face. 

"Bob,"  he  whispered,  "don't  tell 
Dixie,  now.    This  is  racetrack  money." 

Bing  loved  that  home  very  much.  He 
was  so  saddened  that  he  moved  out  of 
San  Fernando  Valley  to  Holmby  Hills. 

He  was  desolate,  also,  at  the  loss  of 
his  records  and  pipes.  He  had  amassed 
them  with  loving  care  for  years.  Out- 
side of  money,  they  were  among  his 
most  sentiment-laden  possessions. 

Bing  did  not  have  to  mourn  them 
long.  His  myriad  admirers  were  breath- 
takingly  quick  to  translate  their  affec- 
tion into  action.  When  news  of  the  fire 
loss  got  out,  fans  from  every  point  of 
the  compass  congested  the  mails  with 
old  recordings  to  take  the  places  of 
those  demolished  in  the  blaze. 

MISFORTUNE'S  aftermath  had  its 
own  uncanny  way  of  smiling  upon 
my  brother.  As  a  result,  he  now  has  a 
more  complete  library  of  his  old  records 
than  he  ever  dreamed  of  acquiring. 

His  original  pipes,  pardon  the  ines- 
capable pun,  went  up  in  smoke.  Here 
again  Bing's  solicitous  followers  inun- 
dated him  with  successors.  Bing, 
thanks  to  that  fire,  has  received  enough 
pipes  to  build  a  highway  from  Beverly 
Hills  to  San  Diego. 

It  is  well  known  that  while  Bing 
does  not  have  the  other  qualities  of 
King  Midas,  everything  Bing  touches — 
except  horses  and  baseball  players — 
turns  to  gold.  Myself  unable  to  culti- 
vate a  prejudice  against  gold,  I  became 
associated  with  Bing  and  brother  Larry 
in  a  scientific  venture  known  as  Crosby 
Research,  Inc. 

I  have  never  regretted  this  Crosbian 
anschluss.  The  research  outfit,  I  think, 
has  accomplished  tremendous  good. 
The  scientific  magic  wrought  under  its 
aegis  is  little  short  of  fabulous,  but 
none  of  these  miracles  seemed  mag- 
netic enough  to  attract  a  common  ore 
that  glitters  and  answers  to  the  name 
of  gold. 

After  years  of  sponsoring  ambitious 
laboratory  projects,  even  in  the  wake  of 
a  slight  association  with  the  atomic 
bomb,  this  enterprise  appears  finally 
on  the  verge  of  yielding  some  of  that 
gold.  The  profit  looms  not  from  uran- 
ium, of  which  Crosby  Research  has 
none,  but  from  a  better  mousetrap. 

Yes,  Bing's  touch  has  worked  at  last. 
The  better  mousetrap  has  been  built, 
and  Crosby  Research  has  built  it.  The 
Crosby  mousetrap  owes  its  profitable 
future  to  the  fact  that  it  is  kind  to 
women. 

Thanks  to  the  Crosby  mousetrap,  a 
woman  never  has  to  see,  touch  or  come 
in  contact  with  a  mouse. 

It  would  be  ironical,  wouldn't  it,  if 
centuries  from  now  they  remember  my 
brother  Bing  not  as  a  great  singer  and 
entertainer,  but  as  one  of  the  Crosbys 
who  built  the  better  mousetrap. 

Personally,  though,  I  doubt  that  pos- 
terity is  capable  of  such  blundering. 

When,  as  it  comes  to  all  men,  the  time 
to  rap  on  St.  Peter's  pearly  gates  comes 
to  Crosby,  Robert,  rest  assured  that 
he'll  unfurl  that  sign  he  was  going  to 
wave  at  the  Japs,  this  time  in  English: 

"Don't  shoot.   This  is  Bing's  brother." 


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NAME-___ 


ADDRESS . 
1  CITY_ 


(Please  print  clearly) 


1 


-ZONE .STATE. 


When  a  Girl  Marries 

(Continued  from  page  51) 


asked  to  give  is  your  advice,  to  put 
yourself  in  the  place  of  the  woman 
who  writes  to  you,  and  tell  her  what 
you  would  do  in  similar  circumstances." 

I  thought  about  it,  and  decided  that 
they  were  right.  There  are  many  things 
that  a  woman  would  like  to  talk  over 
with  another  woman,  things  she  doesn't 
want  to  take  to  an  expert.  She  simply 
wants  the  advice  of  a  woman  like  her, 
but  who,  not  being  as  close  to  the  situ- 
ation as  she  is,  can  see  it  from  a  point 
of  view  that  is  not  tied  in  with  her 
hopes  and  fears  and  emotions.  An  un- 
prejudiced point  of  view,  but  a  wom- 
an's, a  wife's,  just  the  same. 

So  that  is  what  I  propose  to  do  in 
this  department:  to  be,  to  the  very  best 
of  my  ability,  your  friend,  the  one  to 
whom  you  can  come  with  your  prob- 
lems, and  from  whom  you  can  get  an 
answer — not  the  answer  of  an  expert, 
which  might  be  cold  and  impersonal, 
but  a  warm,  a  friendly,  a  "this  is  what 
I  would  do"  answer. 

Won't  you  write  to  me,  and  tell  me 
what  is  on  your  mind?  On  these  pages, 
each  month,  I  will  answer  the  letters 
which  seem  to  me  to  be  of  most  uni- 
versal interest  to  all  the  wives  and 
mothers  who  will  read  them,  and  each 
month,  too,  I  want  to  throw  open  to 
general  discussion  among  ctII  of  you  the 
one  problem  which  has  reached  me 
during  the  previous  month  which  seems 
to  me  most  to  need  the  consideration 
of  not  one,  but  a  number,  of  married 
women  who,  like  me,  understand  best 
of  all  what  it  is  to  be  a  wife,  because 
we  are  wives. 

We'll  discuss  everything  that  has  to 
do  with  love  and  marriage  and  families 
and  children  and  homes — all  except 
two  things,  which  call  for  advice  far 
more  specialized  than  mine  can  be. 
Questions  of  health  I  can't  answer; 
those  should  go  straight  to  your  doctor. 
Nor  can  I  answer  questions  which  in- 
volve legal  problems;  those  are  matters 
for  a  lawyer  or  your  local  legal  aid 
society.  But  all  the  rest — everything 
from  what  to  have  for  dinner  to  the 
bettering  of  the  relationship  between 
a  husband  and  wife — we'll  talk  about 
each  month  on  these  pages,  and  among 
us  we'll  see  if  we  can't  find  an  answer 
for  every  question. 

For  some  years,  although  I've  never 
before  made  a  definite  commitment  to 
answer  them,  I've  been  receiving  let- 
ters of  the  sort  I  want  to  answer  in  this 


department.  To  start  us  off,  because 
of  course  I  won't  be  receiving  your 
letters  addressed  to  me  in  this  new 
capacity  of  mine  as  an  adviser,  until 
after  you've  read  this  article,  I  think 
that  I'll  choose  one  or  two  of  those 
other  letters  to  answer  here,  as  ex- 
amples. 

Let's  start  with  this  letter  from  a  girl 
who  IS  not  yet  married,  but  whose 
problem  is  certainly  a  marriage  prob- 
lem if  ever  I  heard  one: 

Dear  Joan  Davis: 

In  three  months  I'm  going  to  be 
married,  and  as  the  time  draws  closer 
I'm  getting  more  and  more  jittery.  It 
isn't  that  I  don't  know  whether  I  love 
George — I  do.  That  I'm  sure  of.  But 
what's  bothering  me  is  this — will  I 
keep  on  loving  him?  When  life  stops 
being  parties  and  dances  and  fun,  and 
starts  being  dinners  to  get  and  house- 
work to  do  and  diapers  to  change,  and 
a  lot  of  good  hard  work,  will  I  still 
feel  the  same  way  I  do  now? 

Maybe  I  would  never  have  thought  of 
this  if  my  parents  had  been  different. 
You  see.  Mom  and  Dad  are  just — well, 
I  was  going  to  say  friends,  but  that  isn't 
the  right  word,  either.  It's  as  if  they 
had  been  acquaintances  who,  years 
ago,  happened  to  go  to  live  in  the  same 
house  and  have  been  living  there  ever 
since  without  getting  to  know  each 
other  any  better.  They're  polite  to 
each  other,  but  that's  about  all.  "They 
never  have  an  argument,  and  sometimes 
I  wonder  if  it  isn't  because  they  don't 
care  enough  about  each  other  to  bother 
arguing. 

Now  they  must  have  been  in  love 
when  they  were  married,  or  they 
wouldn't  have  got  married.  Does  every- 
one's love  die  like  that,  as  you  grow 
older? 

Jean  M. 

And  here  is  my  answer: 

Dear  Jean: 

Let  me  give  you  an  overall  answer 
first,  and  it's  this:  most  definitely  and 
emphatically  no,  love  does  not  have  to 
die  after  marriage! 

But  love  is  like  a  plant;  it  has  to 
have  certain  things  in  order  to  thrive. 
It  has  to  have  good  soil  into  which  it 
can  put  down  deep  roots;  it  has  to  be 
cared  for,  given  food  and  drink.  You 
can't  take  it  for  granted,  nor  can  you 


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neglect  it  and  expect  it  to  flourish. 

You  sound  to  me  as  if  you  must  be 
a  warm  sort  of  person — must  be,  be- 
cause if  you  weren't  you  wouldn't  have 
realized  that  your  mother  and  father 
are  polite  strangers,  but  would  have 
taken  it  for  granted  that  all  parents 
behaved  in  the  same  way.  The  out- 
ward show  of  affection  is  one  of  the 
most  important  things  in  making  your 
love  last,  I  think.  Aifection  is  nothing 
to  be  ashamed  of.  Harry  and  I  hold 
hands  in  the  movies,  for  instance,  just 
the  way  you  and  the  boy  you're  going 
to  marry  probably  do.  Harry  always 
kisses  me  when  we  meet  after  being 
separated — whether  it's  for  weeks  or 
only  for  hours — and  we  kiss  again  when 
we  part.  Those  are  only  two  very  small 
examples,  but  they're  important,  and 
all  the  other  little  manifestations  of 
aifection  are  just  as  important.  In  other 
words,  don't  ever  be  afraid,  or  ashamed, 
to  show  your  husband  that  you  love 
him! 

You  ask  me  if  you'll  still  love  your 
George  when,  with  marriage,  life  stops 
being  fun  and  starts  being  work.  What- 
ever gave  you  the  idea  that  marriage  is 
like  a  door  which,  once  gone  through, 
closes  on  all  the  happy  things  of  life? 
Let  me  make  a  pi-ediction:  you'll  find 
out  that  your  married  life  is  a  hundred 
times  more  fun  than  your  life  as  a 
single  girl,  if  you  want  it  to  he,  if 
you're  willing  to  make  it  so!  Marriage 
is  doing  things  together,  working  to- 
gether, planning  together — everything 
from  a  helpful  husband  who's  willing 
to  dry  the  dishes  for  you  when  you're 
tired  to  the  important  decisions  like 
the  decision  whether  or  not  to  buy  a 
home.  All  those  things  are  "together" 
things,  and  things  which  you  do  as  a 
partnership,  which  you  share  with  each 
other,  you'll  find  to  be  vastly  more  in- 
teresting than  being  alone.  Marriage 
is  fun,  and  love  will  last  a  lifetime,  if 
you'll  let  it! 

May  I  ask  you  to  do  something  for 
me,  Jean?  Will  you  write  to  me  again? 
Not  right  away,  but — oh,  perhaps  two 
years  from  now,  and  let  me  know  how 
you  and  your  George  are  getting  along? 
Meanwhile  the  best  of  luck,  the  great- 
est happiness,   to  you. 

Joan  Davis 

Here's  a  problem  of  entirely  another 
sort.  On  first  glance  it  seems  trivial  in 
the  midst  of  letters  from  mothers  whose 
children  are  "running  wild"  as  one  of 
them  puts  it,  from  wives  who  suspect 
their  husbands  of  infidelity,  from 
women  who  believe  they  have  fallen  in 
love  with  men  other  than  their  hus- 
bands. But  every  small  facet  of  mar- 
riage is  important  to  the  whole,  and 
that's  why  I  want  to  answer  this  letter 
here: 

Dear  Joan  Davis: 

My  husband  might  just  as  well  be  a 
cave  man— he's  a  meat-eater!  His  ideal 
menu  consists  of  meat  and  potatoes  and 
bread  and  pie,  and  such  things  as 
vegetables  and  fruits — to  say  nothing 
of  salads! — he  refuses  completely.  I've 
been  reading  a  great  deal  lately  about 
balanced  diets  and  proper  nutrition — 
have   you   any   suggestions? 

AT    '  A^ice  G. 

Dear   Alice: 

I  took  Lilly  into  consultation  with 
me  on  this  one,  and  together  we've 
come  up  with  several  ideas  that  I  think 
may  be  of  help  to  you.  I  realize  that 
this  could  become  a  serious  bone  of 
contention  in  any  household.  (Lilly 
grumbled  and  said,  "Bet  her  grand- 
daddy  ate  meat  'n'  potatoes  'n'  bread 


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FLORIDA  FASHIONS,  INC.  Sanford      159 

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NAME. 


(Please  print  clearly) 


ADDRESS. 
IJCITY 


■JL 


.ZONE STATE. 


'n'  pie  three  times  a  day  and  died  at 
ninety-five!"  which  is  probably  per- 
fectly true.  But  as  long  as  there  have 
been  such  huge  strides  made  in  the 
subject  of  nutrition,  we  might  as  well 
keep  up  with  them!) 

Let's  take  fruit  first,  because  that's 
easiest,  I  think.  Pies?  Fruit  pies,  of 
course.  Stewed  fruit,  which  lots  of 
men  look  upon  as  an  abomination,  can 
be  effectively  hidden  sometimes  under 
a  tempting  blanket  of  custard  sauce,  or 
nice  solid  puddings  of  the  kind  that 
men  like — custard,  tapioca,  cornstarch 
— can  have  small  pieces  of  well-drained, 
cut-up  fruit  folded  into  them.  Fruits 
such  as  raisin,  fig,  date  or  prune  can 
make  good  cookies  a  double  treat  if, 
next  time  you're  making  plain  sugar 
cookies  you'll  roll  them  a  little  thinner 
than  usual  and  use  fruit  filling  to  sand- 
wich them  in  pairs  before  you  bake 
them.  Raw  fruit  with  cheese  and 
crackers  for  dessert  is  an  epicure's 
delight,  and  many  a  man  will  eat  it 
that  way  when  he  will  refuse  it  in  a 
fancier  form. 

Vegetables?  Well,  here's  Lilly's  sug- 
gestion. She  reminded  me  that  it's 
been  a  Southern  cooking  tradition  since 
goodness  knows  when  to  cook  meat 
with  vegetables.  Try  these:  cook  green 
or  wax  beans  with  a  piece  of  bacon 
or  salt  pork  in  the  water  with  them, 
and  perhaps  a  few  slices  of  onion  for 
good  measure.  Cabbage  cooked  with 
ham  is  a  coast-to-coast  favorite,  and 
show  me  a  man  who  doesn't  like  corned 
beef  and  cabbage  or  New  England 
boiled  dinner!  Stews,  which  most  men 
love,  are  an  easy  way  of  slipping  vege- 
tables almost  unnoticed  into  the  diet. 
Men  can't  very  well  eat  around  them. 
Try  dressing  up  your  next  stew  with 
dumplings,  or  pouring  it  into  a  casserole 
and  topping  with  a  biscuit  crust — that 
will  take  his  mind  off  vegetables! 

Cheese  is  another  big  favorite  with 
men,  and  cheese  sauce  effectively  takes 
the  curse  off  many  vegetables  as  far  as 
they  are  concerned.  Try  it  on  asparagus 
when  it's  in  season  again;  make  a  main 
dish  of  a  big  head  of  cauliflower  by 
masking  it  in  golden  cheese  sauce  and 
sprinkling  crumbled  bacon  over  it — a 
good  way  to  make  a  little  bacon  go  a 
long  way,  too,  in  these  days  of  budget 
stretching.  And  do  try  serving  the 
vegetables  your  husband  dislikes  in 
new  ways.  You  say  he  loves  potatoes — 
try  mashed  potatoes-and-turnips,  or 
potatoes-and-parsnips,  half  and  half. 
Eggplant,  scalloped,  tastes  like  the  most 
delightful  scalloped  oysters.  Thick  slices 
of  tomatoes  fried,  hiding  under  a  crisp 
crust  of  breading,  take  them  right  out 


of  the  vegetable  class,  don't  you  think? 

Now,  as  for  salads — keep  them  sim- 
ple, Lilly  and  I  agree.  Perhaps  just 
sliced  tomatoes,  or  a  plain  slice  of  crisp 
lettuce,  or  a  bowl  of  cucumber  slices, 
or  carrot  sticks.  All  of  these  serve  the 
purpose  of  salad  without  the  name. 
Some  men  will  take  plain  vinegar  for 
dressing  when  they'll  refuse  a  more 
fancy  variety.  Try,  too,  a  selection  of 
diced  salad  vegetables — onions,  green 
pepper,  carrot,  radishes — each  in  a 
separate  pile  on  a  platter,  with  a  bowl 
of  commercial  sour  cream  instead  of 
dressing.  Or  perhaps  cheese  can  come 
to  your  rescue  here,  too — cottage  cheese, 
with  the  diced  vegetables  irrevocably 
stirred  into  it,  or  cubes  of  American 
cheese  in  mixed  green  salad,  or  a 
sprinkling  of  crumbled  bleu  cheese  on 
practically  any  kind  of  greens.  Old 
fashioned  wilted  lettuce  is  another 
possibility.  For  this,  cut  bacon  into 
pieces  about  an  inch  square,  and  crisp 
slowly  in  your  frying  pan.  In  a  cup, 
mix  a  little  hot  water,  vinegar,  sugar 
and  pepper — no  salt,  for  the  bacon  will 
attend  to  that.  Take  out  the  bacon, 
leaving  the  fat  in  the  pan,  and  put  in 
your  seasoned  water  and  vinegar  mix- 
ture, and  bring  it  to  a  rolling  boil. 
When  very  hot,  pour  over  torn  lettuce 
in  a  bowl,  and  toss  lightly,  along  with 
the  pieces  of  bacon.  Be  sure  to  serve 
this  at  once — hot,  it's  wonderful,  but 
cold  it's  impossible!  And  try  putting 
a  sliced,  hot,  hard-boiled  egg  on  top 
of  each  serving  for  a  hearty,  man-sized 
salad. 

Try  these — Lilly  and  I  think  they'll 
go  a  long  way  toward  solving  your 
meal-time  problems. 

Joan  Davis 

Well,  there  you  are — two  letters,  two 
answers.  Won't  you  send  me  your 
problems?  I'll  give  you  the  very  best 
advice  I  can.  And  be  sure,  too,  to  send 
me  your  answers  to  the  problem  which 
we're  going  to  solve  in  round-table 
fashion  each  month.  Here  is  the  first 
one: 

What  considerations  do  you  think  are 
most  important  to  a  widow,  with  two 
young  children,  who  is  contemplating 
a  second  marriage? 

Tell  me  what  you  think — from  the 
point  of  view  of  the  woman  herself,  the 
children  who  would  have  a  step-father, 
and  the  man  who  would  be  taking  on 
a  ready-made  family.  First,  read  the 
instructions  in  the  box  on  the  first  page 
of  this  article,  and  then  let  me  know 
what  your  reactions  are.  Perhaps  some 
of  you  will  be  able  to  answer  from 
experience.  Let  me  hear  from  you! 


WOMAN'S  FIRST  RIGHT  ... 

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security  and  peace  of  nnind  on  "The  Right  To  Happi- 
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life 

TUNE  IN  every  afternoon  Monday  to  Friday  (3:45 
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write  Carolyn  Kramer  about  it  and  you  may  win  $50.  For 
details  see  the  current  issue  of  TRUE  EXPERIENCES 

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Bill  CuUen  Takes  All 

(Continued  from  page  53) 

A  few  minutes  later  the  phone  rang. 

"What  kind  of  Wagner  is  that?"  a 
listener  demanded. 

"This  is  a  new  Stan  Kenton  arrange- 
ment," Bill  told  her  politely,  hung  up 
and  continued  tooting  his  whistle. 

Bill's  remarkable  talent  for  stepping 
up  to  a  mike  cold  and  giving  colorful 
and  adequate  descriptions  of  a  vacant 
lot  surrounded  by  a  blank  fence  won 
him  the  job  of  assisting  the  sports  an- 
nouncer. During  time-outs  and  rest 
periods,  he  would  come  on  the  air  with 
a  quick  sports  resume,  then  do  color. 
Only  twice  did  he  do  actual  play-by- 
play reporting  and  each  time  it  was  a 
catastrophe. 

He  was  assigned  to  a  high  school 
football  game  that  turned  out  to  be  a 
dud.  Bored,  and  realizing  that  the  radio 
audience  must  be  too,  Bill  took  off  his 
glasses,  carefully  wiped  the  lenses  and 
put  them  in  his  pocket. 

"Now  I  can't  see  and  the  game  won't 
distract  me,"  he  said. 

WITH  that  he  began  to  report  a  foot- 
ball game  as  he  thought  it  should 
sound.  He  excitedly  described  50-yard 
runs  for  touchdowns,  intercepted 
passes  for  touchdowns,  fumbles  over 
the  goal  line.  At  the  end  of  the  after- 
noon, exhausted  and  hoarse,  Bill  an- 
nounced the  final  score  as  35  to  34.  Ac- 
tually it  was  7-0. 

Bill  broadcast  one  more  sports  event 
for  WWSW.  It  was  a  year  later  when 
the  station's  kindly  and  patient  man- 
ager had  forgotten  the  football  circus. 
There  was  a  hockey  game  to  be  cov- 
ered that  night  and  the  regular  an- 
nouncer was  ill. 

"Know  anything  about  ice  hockey?" 
Bill  was  asked. 

"Grew  up  with  the  game,"  he  said. 

On  the  way  out  to  Duquesne  Gardens 
that  evening.  Bill  turned  to  the  engi- 
neer. 

"Ever  see  a  hockey  game?"  Bill  asked. 

"No.   Did  you?" 

"No." 

It  was  a  rare  night  for  hockey  fans. 
Bill  memorized  the  names  of  ten  play- 
ers and  no  matter  who  was  substituted, 
the  original  ten  made  all  the  plays.  Bill 
called  the  ice,  the  field;  the  puck,  a 
ball.  When  a  player  fell,  he  was  "down 
on  the  twenty-yard  line."  If  two  players 
scowled  at  each  other.  Bill  was  describ- 
ing a  bloody  fist  fight.  Instead  of  giv- 
ing a  resume  during  rest  periods,  he 
picked  up  a  newspaper  and  read  Dick 
"Tracy  to  the  sports  listeners. 

The  pay-off  was  that  died-in-the- 
rink  hockey  fans  were  laughing  with 
him,  not  at  him.  The  next  day  sports 
columnists  wrote  that  it  was  the  most 
hilarious  program  they'd  ever  heard. 
But  the  team  owner  never  allowed  Cul- 
len  in  for  another  broadcast.  Reason 
was  that  during  a  dull  moment  Bill 
had  described  the  puck  soaring  into 
the  bleachers  and  landing  in  a  woman's 
cup  of  coffee. 

As  a  practical  joker.  Bill's  imagina- 
tion kept  the  entire  staff  on  constant 
alert.  Perhaps  it's  a  trade  secret  but 
most  excess  energy  of  announcers  goes 
into  horseplay — specifically,  trying  to 
break  up  a  fellow  announcer  while  he 
is  on  the  air.  Introduced  to  this  aspect 
of  radio,  Cullen  brought  the  full  force 
of  his  imagination  into  play.  Oddly 
enough,  CuUen's  zany  stunts  remind 
one  of  the  kind  of  gags  credited  to 
Groucho  Marx,  one  of  Bill's  boosters. 

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Name.. . 
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City 


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Bill  was  on  duty  at  the  same  time  of 
day,  he  had  to  listen  to  another  an- 
nouncer do  this  program  for  months. 
The  Musical  Bus  started  off  with  re- 
corded sound  effects  of  traffic  noise  and 
the  motor  of  a  bus.  Bill  figured  the 
show  needed  life,  made  a  new  record- 
ing of  sound  effects  and  substituted  his 
platter  for  the  usual  one. 

The  announcer  opened  with  the  same 
stock  announcement,  "WWSW  invites 
you  to  ride  the  musical  bus." 

The  standard  effects  followed  of  a 
bus  driving  through  heavy  traffic.  Sud- 
denly there  was  the  zoom  of  a  high 
powered  airplane  followed  by  the  rat- 
tat-tat  of  a  machine  gun  and  the  ex- 
plosion of  bombs.  There  was  the  sound 
of  the  bus  crashing  and  people  scream- 
ing. It  was  typical  Cullen  reaction  to 
monotony. 

WHILE  Bill  was  in  Pittsburgh,  war 
broke  out.  Not  one  of  his  personal 
battles  but  the  bigger  one  with  Ger- 
many and  Japan.  Bill  was  classified  4F 
because  of  his  bad  leg.  Being  kept  out 
of  action  was  an  emotional  strain  on 
him.  He  finally  found  a  branch  of  the 
army,  Specialists  Corps,  that  would  take 
men  with  physical  handicaps.  He  signed 
up,  but  the  corps  was  dissolved.  Still 
a  civilian,  Bill  put  all  of  his  money 
into  flying  lessons.  In  a  short  time  he 
had  his  pilot  license  and  served  as 
Air  Patrol  Pilot.  He  piled  up  400  flying 
hours. 

He  was  twenty-two  then  and  de- 
veloped a  serious  interest  in  current 
events.  He  asked  for  and  got  a  nightly 
news  broadcast.  Immediately,  he  broke 
away  from  the  lazy  habit  of  announcers 
who  read  news  direct  from  teletype  re- 
ports and  began  to  dig  into  newspapers 
and  periodicals  for  additional  informa- 
tion. In  time,  he  built  up  a  good  audi- 
ence, but  it  was  on  this  show  that 
another  announcer  decided  to  even  up 
some  of  the  gags  Bill  had  pulled. 

Since  Bill  was  a  whiz  at  the  art  of  ad 
lib,  it  was  decided  to  let  him  prove  it. 
He  walked  into  the  studio  one  night  at 
10:45  with  fresh-off -the-wire  material. 
He  hadn't  broadcast  more  than  a  sen- 
tence when  his  friends  pulled  the  main 
light  switch  and  plunged  the  studio  into 
a  blackout.  The  laughter  was  loud  for 
a  minute  but  when  they  quieted  down, 
the  pranksters  were  amazed.  They 
heard  Bill's  voice  coming  out  of  the 
control  room  speaker,  giving  the  news 
completely  unperturbed.  And  he  con- 
tinued to  ad  lib  the  news  in  complete 
darkness  for  fifteen  minutes. 

One  of  the  announcers  involved  in 
this  gag  had  the  habit  of  coming  on  the 
air  each  night  with,  "We  have  some  hot 
news  tonight."  The  next  day  he  was 
speaking  both  literally  and  figuratively. 
Bill  had  soaked  part  of  the  manuscript 
in  lighter  fluid.  As  his  friend  began  the 
broadcast,  a  match  touched  the  paper. 
Both  the  news  report  and  announcer 
went  up  in  the  air. 

"You  won't  last  another  six  weeks," 
the  station  manager  always  told  Bill 
after  one  of  these  episodes.  But  the 
manager  was  too  good-hearted  and  Bill 
was  too  valuable  to  be  fired.  He  left 
Pittsburgh  on  his  own  initiative  in 
April  of  1944. 

"I'm  getting  a  network  job  in  New 
York,"  he  told  them. 

Three  weeks  later  he  had  one. 

Actually  Bill  came  to  New  York  cold. 
He  had  no  prospects  and  knew  no  one. 
At  that  time  Columbia  had  an  "XYZ" 
system  for  auditioning  announcers.  150 
applicants  were  chosen  from  records 
for  the  "X"  group.  Out  of  these  50 
would  be  selected  to  audition  in  a  "Y" 
group.   Finally,  in  the  "Z"  group,  there 


were  only  three  announcers,  one  of 
whom  got  a  job. 

Bill  didn't  arrive  at  the  CBS  studios 
until  they  were  down  to  the  "Z"  level 
and  there  is  a  lot  of  talk  about  how  he 
got  in.  One  story  has  it  that  the  men 
were  auditioning  with  recordings  and 
Bill  substituted  his  for  one  of  the  final- 
ists. Another  rumor  says  that  Bill 
locked  one  of  the  applicants  out  on  a 
fire  escape  then  took  his  place.  Perhaps 
neither  is  true  but  Bill  was  in  the  "Z" 
group  and  got  the  job. 

"I  was  hired  as  a  news  reporter,"  Bill 
said.  "Today,  I'm  still  waiting  for  my 
first  news  broadcast." 

His  first  assignment  was  on  a  network 
show,  Fun  with  Dunn.  All  he  had  to 
do  was  to  introduce  the  show,  be  quiet 
for  thirteen  and  a  half  minutes,  then 
take  the  show  off  the  air.  Keeping  quiet 
for  thirteen  minutes  was  a  tough  as- 
signment for  him  and  one  day  the  pro- 
ducer made  the  mistake  of  writing  a 
gag  line  into  the  beginning  of  the  show 
for  Bill.  When  he  came  to  the  line,  he 
threw  away  his  script  and  began  to  ad 
lib.  Five  minutes  later  the  regular  show 
got  started  and  Bill's  reputation  was 
established  at  CBS  as  an  off-the-cuff 
wit. 

A  few  months  later  the  program  was 
replaced  by  the  show  Sing-A-Long  and 
that  was  replaced  and  the  next  program 
was  replaced  but  Bill  continued  to  stay 
on  till  Winner  Take  All  moved  into  the 
period.  For  six  months  he  assisted 
Ward  Wilson  on  the  program.  When 
the  format  was  changed.  Bill  moved 
into  the  quizmaster's  job  and  ever  since 
has  done  an  outstanding  job. 

"I  get  a  big  kick  working  with  con- 
testants on  the  program,"  Bill  will  tell 
you.  "But  let's  not  talk  about  the  regu- 
lars." 

But  Bill  will  talk  about  the  "regu- 
lars," the  people  who  try  to  make  a 
profession  out  of  contest  appearances. 
There's  a  New  York  model  Bill  calls 
Macushlah  Jones  who  sometimes  makes 
up  as  a  bobby  soxer,  sometimes  as  a 
Park  Avenue  deb.  "7-Up"  O'Brien  is 
another  who  always  walks  into  the 
studio  carrying  her  shoes  and  crying 
that  she  walked  a  hundred  miles  to  get 
on  the  show.  There  is  "Ming  Toy" 
Smith  who  claimed  she  was  a  painter 
— she'd  painted  "Men"  and  "Women"  on 
rest  room  doors.  But  Bill  spots  the 
regulars  and  never  do  they  sneak  into 
any  of  his  shows. 

BILL'S  married  now  to  a  lovely  vocal- 
ist, Carol  Ames,  who  has  a  lot  of 
talent  in  her  own  right.  She's  sung  on 
the  Paul  Whiteman  and  Arthur  God- 
frey shows  and  in  some  of  New  York's 
best  night  clubs. 

"I  took  the  initiative  in  dating  Bill." 
Carol  will  tell  you. 

They  had  met  first  on  a  CBS  program 
when  Bill  was.  announcing  and  Carol 
singing.  She  took  a  lot  of  ribbing  from 
him  but  they  never  dated. 

A  year  later,  Carol  was  in  her  apart- 
ment listening  to  the  radio  when  she 
heard  Bill  fluff  a  line.  She  picked  up 
the  phone,  got  Bill  and  teased  him  about 
it.  An  hour  later  they  were  sitting  at 
a  bar. 

"That  was  our  first  date,"  Carol  said. 
"And  you  know  how  these  things  are. 
You  can  tell  from  the  beginning  when 
you  click  together." 

Bill  courted  Carol  with  the  same 
imagination  he  puts  into  his  shows.  On 
her  birthday  they  took  a  plane  to  Bos- 
ton for  dinner. 

Last  Christmas  eve  Carol  was  shar- 
ing an  apartment  with  two  other  girls 
and  had  a  date  to  meet  Bill  in  a  bar. 
He  was  over  an  hour  late. 


Bill  finally  show^ed  up  apologetic  and 
carrying  two  big  shopping  bags.  They 
were  her  gifts  and  he  suggested  she 
open  them.  She  did.  The  bags  were 
stuffed  with  nothing  but  paper. 

"Are  you  upset?"  Bill  asked. 

"You're  better  than  an  hour  late,  pull 
a  bum  gag  and  ask  a  foolish  question." 

"I'm  sorry,"  Bill  said  remorsefully. 
"I'll  take  you  home." 

They  walked  to  her  apartment  silent- 
ly. By  that  time  Carol  was  kicking  her- 
self for  being  a  bad  sport.  But  when  she 
walked  into  the  apartment,  there  was 
a  huge,  trimmed  Christmas  tree  star- 
ing in  her  face. 

"In  all,  he  had  twenty-seven  gifts 
hidden  around  the  room,"  she  said. 

THEY  saw  a  lot  of  each  other  for  two 
years.  When  Bill  began  to  talk  about 
marriage,  he  found  Carol  willing. 

"Look,  I'm  due  for  a  vacation  in  a 
month,"  he  said.  "We'll  have  a  quiet 
ceremony  and  a  real  honeymoon." 

One  month  passed,  two,  three,  four 
and  no  vacation.  Finally,  Bill  took  the 
matter  in  his  own  hands.  It  was  on 
Wednesday,  July  28th  of  last  year. 

"Let's  get  married,"  he  asked  Carol. 
"With  or  without  a  honeymoon." 

"When?" 

"Today's  Wednesday,"  Bill  said, 
thinking  aloud.  "How  about  Friday? 
Friday's  a  nice  day  of  the  week." 

Both  knew  that  any  day  they  got 
married  would  be  a  great  day  but  there 
was  one  more  angle. 

"We'll  keep  it  a  secret,"  they  said. 
"No  fuss.  No  announcements.  No  pub- 
licity." 

Bill  figured  he  could  knock  off  after 
his  Friday  afternoon  show  until  Sun- 
day evening.  It  fitted  in  with  Carol's 
plans  because  she  was  appearing  daily 
on  the  Arthur  Godfrey  show.  Every- 
thing was  fine  until  Godfrey  sensed 
Carol's  excitement.  Before  they  went 
on  the  air  Friday  he  coaxed  the  secret 
out  of  Carol. 

"But  don't  tell  anyone,"  she  pleaded. 
■     "Absolutely  not,"  Godfrey  promised. 

Fifteen  minutes  later  his  promise 
slipped  and  the  whole  country  knew 
Bill  and  Carol  would  be  married  that 
afternoon. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  Park  Ave- 
nue church  a  few  hours  later,  there 
were  500  excited  fans  on  the  street. 

They  had  36  hours  alone  in  Long 
Island.  The  following  Monday  Bill  and 
Carol  moved  into  the  Strand  Theater 
with  a  stage  presentation  of  Winner 
Take  All.  After  three  weeks  in  the 
theater,  Carol  began  a  singing  engage- 
ment at  the  Raleigh  Room  in  the  War- 
wick and  Bill  settled  down  to  his  rou- 
tine schedule  of  eighteen  weekly  shows. 

"The  first  few  months  of  our  mar- 
riage," Carol  said,  "we  saw  less  of  each 
other  than  at  any  other  time." 

They  live  now  in  a  four-room  apart- 
ment in  a  Manhattan  hotel.  Together, 
Bill  and  Carol  redecorated  the  living 
room  in  Chinese  modern.  Decorating 
is  one  of  his  many  hobbies  along  with 
color  photography,  magic,  sailing, 
painting,  flying  and  cooking. 

"And  drugstores,"  Carol  added. 
"That's  definitely  a  hobby.  He  goes 
out  to  buy  aspirin  and  comes  back  with 
a  shopping  bag  full  of  gimmicks — eye 
pads,  face  cream,  tissue,  bottle  openers. 
There's  no  end." 

Their  best  friends,  the  Todd  Russells 
and  John  Reed  Kings  and  the  Joe  Car- 
neys,  will  tell  you  that  Bill  and  Carol 
make  a  swell  couple  and  will  wait  a 
hundred  years,  if  necessary,  for  their 
honeymoon.  Life's  being  good  to  them, 
even  without  or'=>' 


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Name 


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.State_ 


The  Happy  Harrises 

(Continued  from  page  29) 


Phil  and  Alice  are  each  other's  best 
audience.  And  they  give  each  other  top 
billing.  Last  summer  when  we  were  in 
Europe,  Alice  didn't  work  with  the 
show.  At  the  Palladium  in  London  on 
our  first  appearance,  the  ovation  was 
really  great.  But  it  was  when  the 
audience  started  yelling  for  Alice  and 
she  came  on  stage  to  get  thunderous 
applause,  that  old  Butter  Beans  and 
Candied  Yams  got  a  frog  in  his  throat 
and  was  seized  by  a  sudden  attack  of 
moisture  in  the  eyes. 

Phil  owned  his  house  in  Encino  for 
some  time  before  he  and  Alice  were 
married.  But  in  those  days  it  was  just 
a  place  to  go  to  sleep.  Brother,  things 
are  different  now.  Not  only  has  he 
taken  gardening  seriously,  but  he  and 
Alice  have  lately  turned  amateur  archi- 
tects. Before  we  went  to  Europe  they 
plotted  out  a  new  wing  to  be  added, 
almost  the  size  of  the  original  house. 
They  did  this  by  a  series  of  sketches, 
into  which  Phil  drew  a  number  of  orig- 
inal ideas  involving  some  pretty  com- 
plicated problems  of  construction.  He 
stood  pat  on  them,  too.  If  anyone  had 
asked  me  at  the  time,  I'd  have  given 
odds  that  the  thing  would  turn  out  to 
be  nothing  but  regrettable. 

ONE  of  Harris's  pet  ideas  was  a  second- 
story  archway  which  was  to  lead 
from  the  children's  wing,  in  the  new 
portion  of  the  house,  directly  to  the 
master  bedroom.  Another  was  the  in- 
stallation of  record  cabinets  behind  the 
paneling  of  the  new  25  by  25-foot  room 
downstairs. 

Well,  not  only  did  both  ideas  work — 
they're  both  great.  The  job  wasn't  fin- 
ished, however,  when  we  left  town,  so 
Alice's  brother  Charlie  took  over  the 
rest.  He  added  a  touch  of  his  own  by 
putting  metal  racks  on  tracks  in  the 
wall,  so  whole  blocks  of  records  can  be 
pulled  out  into  the  room.  Phil  con- 
siders this  the  greatest  invention  since 
the  bazooka  and  tells  the  most  casual 
listener  the  story  of  Charlie's  master 
device.  Contrary  to  what  you  hear  on 
the  radio,  both  Alice's  brothers,  Charlie 
and  William,  are  close  friends  of  Phil. 

"The  Harrises  have  close  to  3000  rec- 
ords in  their  collection.  This  includes 
a  recording  of  every  show  they've  done. 
Because  they  are  serious  show  people, 
they  put  in  a  good  many  hours  listening 
to  these  on  the  play-back  machine, 
figuring  what  can  be  done  to  improve 
the  delivery,  style,  and  the  show  gen- 
erally. Phil  goes  over  Alice's  songs 
carefully,  and  she  never  sings  a  number 
he  doesn't  approve.  Don't  believe  the 
cracks  about  his  lack  of  musical  knowl- 
edge. The  guy  is  a  fine  musician,  and  a 
painstaking  one.  If  you  don't  think  so, 
try  being  careless  when  you're  playing 
for  him  some  time. 

When  it  comes  to  the  business  of  rais- 
ing their  daughters,  Phil  will  go  on 
record  that  Alice  is  the  tops  in  mothers. 
Both  Alice  Jr.  and  Phyllis  are  well  be- 
haved, well-mannered  and  unspoiled. 
Phil,  however,  is  not  one  to  shirk  his 
responsibility  and  I've  seen  him  take 
disciplinary  problems  into  his  own 
hands  from  time  to  time  with,  from  the 
viewpoint  of  another  parent,  gratifying 
results.  Alice  Jr.,  who  is  six,  is  occa- 
sionally invited  by  her  parents  to  sing 
for  guests.  There's  no  denying  she  en- 
joys performing,  and  she's  good.  Phyllis, 
at  four,  is  already  trying  to  stand  on 
her  toes.  Neither  of  their  parents  will 
mind  if  the  girls  want  to  follow  them  in 


show  business — but  they'll  be  very  sure 
the  kids  have  real  talent  before  they 
encourage  them. 

Both  Phil  and  Alice  are  great  gift- 
givers.  They  give  to  each  other  and 
they  give  to  their  friends.  I  would 
personally  hate  to  get  Alice's  flower 
and  candy  bill  each  month. 

When  Phil  and  Alice  were  first  mar- 
ried they  gave  each  other  gifts  on  what 
seemed  like  an  average  of  once  on  hour. 
He'd  give  her  a  piece  of  jewelry  just 
because  it  was  sunny,  or  because  it  was 
raining,  and  she'd  give  him  a  present 
because  it  was  half  past  two  Thursday. 
Any  excuse  would  do  so  long  as  they 
were  buying  each  other  something.  He 
wears  a  star  ruby  she  gave  him  on  their 
first  anniversary,  and  she  particularly 
likes  a  heavy  gold  pin  made  in  the  shape 
of  a  heart  with  an  arrow  of  rubies 
through  it  that  is  one  of  his  gifts  to  her. 
They  are  also  the  sort  of  people  who 
give  souvenir-type  presents.  This  has 
caused  me  some  worry  when  the  band 
plays  in  a  town  with  a  particularly  dis- 
tinguishing  but   unmovable   landmark. 

It  naturally  follows  that  they  are 
inveterate  shoppers.  They  buy  on  dif- 
ferent plans,  but  they  both  buy.  Phil 
buys  because  he  thinks  at  the  time  the 
item  is  a  good  idea.  This  may  or  may 
not  prove  true.  Alice  shops  with  the 
idea  of  making  life  more  happy,  more 
comfortable  for  her  family  or  her 
friends.  Turn  those  two  loose  abroad 
and  you  have  something — especially 
when  they  have  rationalized  themselves 
that  they  are  leaving  necessary  dollars 
for  the  stabilization  of  Europe. 

Alice  bought  hats  in  France,  dishes 
and  silver  in  England. 

Phil  bought  a  car,  and  among  sundry 
other  purchases,  one  which  will  go 
down  in  family  history.  It  came  to  light 
when,  after  they'd  come  home,  they 
were  unpacking  their  accumulation,  and 
Alice  came  upon  a  crystal  piece  shaped 
like  a  cornucopia,  and  mounted  with  a 
brass  cover.  Phil,  under  direct  cross 
examination,  admitted  buying  it  but 
confessed  he  didn't  know  exactly  what 
it  was.  When  last  I  saw  it,  it  was 
sitting  in  the  middle  of  the  pool  table  in 
the  game  room,  carefully  dusted  every 
day  while  its  eventual  disposal  is  still 
under  consideration. 

PHIL  takes  more  than  the  casual  hus- 
bandly interest  in  Alice's  clothes.  He 
thinks,  along  with  most  of  the  other 
males  in  this  country,  that  she's  one  of 
the  most  glamorous  girls  in  the  world. 
He  likes  her  to  have  new  clothes  and 
lots  of  clothes.  He  never  offers  a  word 
of  criticism  about  what  she  wears;  he 
thinks  her  taste  is  perfect.  She  does 
sometimes  buy  some  sport  clothes  for 
him,  and  it  may  be  her  subtle  infiuence 
or  it  may  be  just  that  the  old  Haber- 
dasher's Dream  is  getting  a  little  bit 
conservative;  but  it  seems  to  me  there's 
a  slight  tempering  to  the  checks  he 
wears  lately. 

Neither  of  them  holds  the  purse 
strings  on  the  other,  but  Alice  does 
handle  most  of  the  household  things 
like  the  laundry  bills,  the  cleaners,  the 
grocery  bills,  thus  leaving  Curly  free 
to  dream  up  ideas  like  sliding  panels 
and  suspended  corridors. 

Since  both  the  Harrises  practically 
grew  up  in  night  clubs,  they  almost 
never  go  near  the  Hollywood  late  spots 
for  entertainment.  I  think,  by  actual 
count,  they've  been  out  "doing"  the 
famous  Sunset  Strip  clubs  twice  in  the 


I 


seven  years  they've  been  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
They  entertain  at  home,  and  the  group 
of  friends  they  see  most  often  takes 
turns  in  entertaining. 

They  rarely  go  out  to  big  parties,  but 
when  they  do  Phil  complains  that  Alice, 
who  has  had  to  be  urged  to  go  in  the 
first  place,  doesn't  want  to  leave  once 
she  gets  there. 

"I  don't  know  why  I  go  through  this," 
he  says.  "I  spend  two  hours  getting 
her  started,  and  three  hours  getting  her 
to  go  home.  I  am  nothing  but  a  martyr 
to  sociability." 

He  doesn't  mention,  naturally,  the 
Harris  problem  about  the  "47."  The 
"47"  is  a  club  in  San  Fernando  valley 
frequented,  mostly,  by  musicians.  Every 
now  and  again  a  bunch  of  us  who  fol- 
lowed each  other  in  hotels  and  theaters, 
who've  known  each  other  for  years,  get 
together  out  there  for  our  own  private 
jam  session.  Phil  plays  the  drums. 
Although  old  Curly  says  his  foot  gets 
tired  fast  now,  I've  seen  him  sit  in  until 
2  or  3  A.M.  All  our  wives  protest,  of 
course,  but  wives  are  like  that.  Alice 
sometimes  comes  down  to  listen  for  a 
while,  but  eventually  she  gets  tired. 
Curly  won't  budge.  Alice  is  welcome 
to  stay,  but  he  just  ain't  goin'  home. 
Not  yet  awhile.  After  all,  we  think 
there  has  never  been  music  like  we  turn 
out  at  the  "47." 

PHIL  is  essentially  a  man's  man.  He 
loves  these  get-togethers  with  the 
boys,  and  he  likes  getting  a  bunch  of 
guys  together  for  hunting  and  fishing 
trips.  Alice  keeps  his  guns  racked  be- 
hind glass  doors,  and  sees  that  they 
aren't  touched  by  interested  guests. 
Curly  has  taught  her  to  fish  a  little,  but 
I  think  he'd  have  a  nervous  collapse  if 
he  ever  saw  a  gun  in  her  hands.  Both 
these  hobbies  are  strictly  for  males. 
Besides,  he  plays  golf — another  en- 
thusiasm Alice  doesn't  share.  The  fact 
that  she  doesn't  begrudge  this  time 
away  from  the  family  is  proof  to  me  of 
her  complete  understanding  of  Phil. 

Another  thing.  Phil's  nervous  system 
is  contradictory — he  can  go  from  tension 
to  complete,  instant  relaxation.  Of 
course,  this  latter  is  a  must  when  you 
do  one-night  stands,  else  you  don't  live 
to  be  even  Jack  Benny's  age.  Phil  can 
lie  down  on  a  table  top  in  broad  day- 
light with  a  band  playing  ten  feet  away 
and  go  to  sleep  before  you  can  say  Phil 
Spitalny.  I've  always  resented  this. 
I  have  looked  at  him  when  we've  been 
on  the  road,  seen  him  sleeping  peace- 
fully in  a  jolting  bus — and,  well,  it's  the 
only  time  I've  ever  harbored  any  ill 
will  for  the  guy.  However,  he  is  nerv- 
ous. He  stands  off  stage  bouncing  like 
a  fighter  going  into  the  ring,  before 
shows.  He  never  speaks  of  it — but  the 
nervousness  is  there.  When  this  is  ap- 
parent at  home,  Alice  simply  leaves 
him  alone — another  lesson  to  wives  who 
feel  nervous  tension  must  be  talked  out 
and  soothed  over. 

Phil  and  Alice  are  probably  two  of 
the  most  loyal  friends  anyone  will  ever 
have.  The  people  closest  to  them  now 
are  the  ones  they've  known  for  many 
years.  When  they  were  kids,  Alice  and 
Betty  King  danced  together — almost 
their  very  first  jobs,  with  the  Chester 
Hale  group  in  New  York.  Betty  is  still 
Alice's  closest  friend.  She  is  now  Mrs. 
Walter  Scharf,  and  Walter  is  musical 
arranger  on  the  air  show. 

When  Phil  and  I  were  in  the  service, 
we  were  stationed  for  some  time  at 
Catalina  Island.  Phil  was  a  Lt.  j.g.  I 
was  a  musician,  and  just  a  plain  sailor. 
The  officers  at  the  island  were  quar- 
tered, two  to  a  bungalow  in  a  section 
apart  from  the  regular  barracks.     Phil 


TRUE 


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da O'Brien's  very  own  words  as  she  describes 
the  tragic  events  that  led  to  her  hvisband's 
death 
in  February 


Experiences 


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•  My  Silver  Dream  Came  True — It  was  a  bleak 
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asked  me  to  share  his  cottage  although 
he  knew  officers  weren't  supposed  to 
hob  nob  with  the  men.  I'll  never  for- 
get the  faces  of  the  other  Gold  Braids 
the  first  morning  Curly,  all  gussied  up 
in  uniform,  stepped  out  of  his  cottage, 
followed  by  me  in  my  sailor  suit.  But 
Phil  didn't  care  and  I  stayed.  After 
we  were  out  of  service  some  wag  asked 
him  if  I'd  ever  saluted  him. 

"Once,"  said  Curly.  "I  was  walking 
down  the  street  with  a  full  Commander 
and  we  met  Frankie.  He  split  one 
salute  between  the  two  of  us." 

Maybe  one  of  the  reasons  I'm  a  little 
prejudiced  about  the  Harris  family  is 
because  I  fell  in  love  with  Alice,  al- 
most when  Phil  did.  So  did  the  rest 
of  the  band. 

I  remember  the  day.  We  were  play- 
ing in  Oregon,  rounding  out  a  tour 
we'd  done  every  year  for  a  long  time. 
Phil  and  Alice  had  been  seeing  a  good 
deal  of  each  other  and  we  all  figured 
they  were  probably  taking  this  busi- 
ness pretty  seriously.  Then,  one  day, 
Alice  chartered  a  two  seated  plane 
and  flew  up  to  meet  us,  to  spend  a  few 
hours  with  Phil  and  fly  back  in  time 
for  work  at  the  studio  the  next  morn- 
ing. Alice  loves  flying.  Phil  and  I 
had  always  shared  the  opinion  that  the 
nicest  thing  about  flying  was  landing. 

That  afternoon  we  all  went  out  to 
the  airport.  We  watched  the  little  plane 
come  in,  circle  the  field,  and  land.  We 
figured  as  follows:  It  must  be  love. 
No  one  would  do  a  thing  like  this  to 
spend  approximately  three  hours  with 
Phil  unless.  When  she  left,  the  whole 
band  got'  up  in  the  middle  of  the  day 
to  wave  goodbye.  It  was  then  we  knew 
we  were  all  in  love  with  her. 

For  my  part,  I  was  happy  too,  to  see 
them  marry  because  this  courtship  was 
pretty  expensive.  Alice  took  a  trip 
down  through  the  Canal,  and  every 
night  Phil  called  her  on  board  ship. 
We  were  playing  in  a  hotel  at  the  time, 
and  as  she  got  further  away,  the  calls 
got  longer  on  account  of  this  unen- 
durable separation.  I  was  ready  to  hock 
my   guitar  when  she   got  home  again. 

They  met  first  when  Alice  was  singing 
with  Vallee.  We  followed  him  into  a 
theater,  I  think.  Anyway,  the  kids 
said  "So  pleased,"  and  didn't  see  each 
other  again  for  seven  years. 

It  was  while  we  were  playing  at  the 
Bowl  in  Los  Angeles  that  they  met 
again.  Some  friends  called  Phil  and 
invited  him  to  a  supper  after  work, 
at  a  valley  night  spot.  Phil  thought 
they  said  Alice  was  with  them — what 
they  did  say  was  that  she  was  also  at 
the  night  club.    Well,  Phil  had  a  date, 


a  nice  girl  whom  he  took  along.  He 
went  over  to  Alice  who  was  sitting 
near  his  friends  and,  still  under  the  im- 
pression she  was  in  the  party,  asked 
if  she  wouldn't  come  over  to  his  house 
some  morning,  meet  his  mother  who 
was  living  with  him,  and  have  break- 
fast. He  added  as  an  inducement  that 
they'd  have  ham  and  eggs.  Alice 
allowed  that  she  had  ham  and  eggs  at 
home,  thank  you. 

Phil  devoted  days  to  finding  some- 
one who  knew  her  unlisted  phone  num- 
ber. Finally  he  charmed  it  out  of  a 
mutual  friend,  made  several  calls  and 
got  set  down  each  time. 

It  was  on  a  night  when  he  was  giv- 
ing his  all  to  "That's  What  I  Like,  etc., 
etc,"  that  he  got  a  phone  call.  Why, 
asked  the  voice  at  the  other  end,  did 
he  insist  on  singing  about  food?  Didn't 
he  know  there  were  some  people  who 
dieted?    Couldn't  he  find  another  song? 

Phil  didn't  care  about  being  criticized 
for  his  choice  of  serenades.  The  point 
was — she  listened  to  him! 

About  three  months  later  they  mar- 
ried. Since  they  were  married  twice, 
once  in  Mexico  and  once  in  Texas  for 
good  measure,  they  celebrate  two  anni- 
versaries, even  after  seven  years.  The 
band  was  right.  They're  in  love. 

Alice  has  gone  with  us  on  one- 
nighters.  She's  never  complained,  and 
she's  never  asked  for  special  favors 
in  the  way  of  comfort.  She's  trouped 
because  she   wanted   to  be  with  Phil. 

I  think  Phil  admires  most  her  essen- 
tial kindness.  She  is  one  of  the  most 
genuinely  sympathetic  and  kindly  per- 
sons I've  ever  known.  This  has,  from 
time  to  time,  led  to  situations.  Like 
when  a  housekeeper  suddenly  de- 
veloped a  great  fondness  for  cats.  There 
got  to  be  twenty-seven  of  the  animals. 
Alice  wouldn't  do  it,  so  it  was  up  to 
Phil  to  settle  the  problem  about 
whether  the  cats  or  the  family  went. 

Once  each  week  the  Harrises  bundle 
up  their  family  and  go  out  to  spend 
the  evening  with  Phil's  mother  at 
Malibu  Beach.  Another  night  they  have 
dinner  at  Alice's  mother's  house.  Phil  is 
thoughtful  toward  Alice,  his  mother, 
his  daughters — everyone,  in  fact. 

Perhaps  the  secret  of  their  happiness 
is  that  they  have  a  vast  amount  of 
respect  for  each  other.  Perhaps  it  is 
that  they  understand  each  other  com- 
pletely. 

Anyway,  there  are  the  Harrises.  A 
pretty  grand  couple.  I  wouldn't,  you 
understand,  talk  about  them  if  I  weren't 
sure  that  what  I  say  will  never  get 
back,  because  they  are  my  friends,  and 
I'm  proud  of  'em. 


an    /49Uicu€n4€in^  dream 
€ome  true 

Listen  to  the  human  stories  of  people  like  you — 
the  humorous,  poignant,  nostalgic  remembrances 
of  life's  anniversaries  and  the  secret  hopes  they 
inspired  on 

BEN  ALEXANDER'S 


Every  Day  Monday-Friday 


Mutual  Stations 


Read  how  you  can  make  an  anniversary  dream  come  true  for  your  dear  ones 
in  February's  True  Love  and  Romance  Stories  magazine  on  newsstands 
January  21st. 


Lucky  in  Love 

H  (Continued  from  page  57) 

purpose.  She  planned  to  teach  and  she 
was  majoring  in  education.  I  figured 
college  as  a'  place  of  general  prepara- 
tion for  the  future  but  I  could  see  no 
point  in  rushing  things.  I  joined  Phi 
Delta  Theta,  and  laid  the  ground  work 
for  what  was  an  unnoteworthy  college 
career.  Betty  joined  Pi  Beta  Phi  so- 
rority, and  got  herself  practically  en- 
gaged to  an  upperclassman,  a  guy  who 
by  some  standards  was,  I  suppose, 
popular.  You  know  the  xype,  president 
of  a  half-dozen  organizations,  good- 
looking,  athletic.  My  claim  to  distinc- 
tion was  getting  tossed  out  of  the  glee 
club  after  the  first  concert  of  the  year. 
It  seems  not  only  did  I  sing  off  key,  I 
sang  off  key  loud. 

It  was  at  the  beginning  of  our  second 
year  at  school — almost  an  anniversary 
of  our  first  encounter,  that  we  had  our 
first  date — and  even  then  it  was  some- 
one else's  idea. 

I'D  JUST  arrived  at  the  fraternity 
house  and  was  unpacking  when  one  of 
the  brothers  came  in.  The  Nelson  girls, 
he  said,  had  rented  a  house  and  brought 
their  grandmother  up  to  look  after 
them.  He  was  going  out  to  see  Hester 
Nelson  and  if  I  didn't  have  other  plans, 
why  didn't  I  come  along? 

I  think  it  was  the  idea  of  food  that 
was  most  appealing.  Anyway  I  went, 
and  that  was  the  night  I  changed 
Betty's  name.  Her  first  name  that  is. 
She  had  been  christened  Beth.  I  have 
nothing  against  Beth  as  a  name — only 
Beth  seemed  to  me  more  like  Betty.  If 
you  follow  me.  Let  it  be  said  here  that, 
up  until  that  evening,  Beth  had  been 
Beth.  I  don't  suppose  that  by  now  a 
single  person  except  her  parents  re- 
members that  that  was  her  name. 

Looking  back,  I  can't  find  much 
reason  for  our  falling  in  love.  I  sup- 
pose college  kids  don't  need  a  reason 
beyond  being  young  and  alive.  Love 
can't  be  attributed  to  any  of  the  adult 
profundities  like  mutual  interests  or 
desire  for  companionship  or  under- 
standing. In  college  you  are  still  ex- 
perimenting with  interests — or  most 
people  are.  You  choose  them,  and  you 
discard  them.  A  thing  that  is  fascinat- 
ing one  day  is  dull  the  next.  Heaven 
knows,  companionship  is  easily  come 
by. 

It's  reasonably  certain  we  didn't  know 
we  were  falling  in  love,  although  I 
ought  to  have  caught  the  warning  when 
I  found  myself  spending  all  my  avail- 
able cash  with  a  traveling  jewelry 
salesman  for  a  Phi  Delt  locket.  It  was 
the  first  gift  I'd  ever  given  Betty,  and 
as  I  recall,  I  had  to  foreswear  cigarettes 
for  a  couple  of  months. 

Still,  no  bell  rang.  No  voice  within 
me  said,  "This,  bub,  is  it!"  It  took  a 
telephone  call  and  a  crystal  ball  to 
consolidate  my  position. 

The  fellow  to  whom  Betty  had  been 
all  but  engaged  (I  think  she  had  his 
fraternity  pin)  had  made  a  serious  er- 
ror in  strategy.  He  left  Lombard  for 
another  school.    But  he  kept  in  touch. 

One  afternoon  while  I  was  at  her 
house,  he  phoned  long  distance.  They 
talked  and  they  talked.  I  sat  and  I  sat. 
Finally,  I  got  up  and  walked  out,  slam- 
ming the  door  behind  me.  I'd  gone 
just  a  little  way  (I'm  a  slow  walker) 
when  I  heard  Betty's  voice.  I'm  the 
proud  type  so  I  let  her  call  me  once. 
She  says  that  she  made  up  her  mind 
about  us  when  she  heard  the  slam  of 
that  door.     Lord  knows,  I  slammed  it 


RITA  HAYWORTU'S 
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one  of  Elsa  Maxwell's  parties  and  now  Elsa 
reveals  the  unbelievable  story  behind  their 
unbelievable  romance  .  . . 

IN   FEBRUARY 

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Please  send- 


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hard  enough  she  could  have  heard  it  in 
the  next  township.  Anyway,  I'd  have 
been  back  in  an  hour  or  two — but  this 
is  a  secret. 

About  this  time  Betty  went  to  visit  a 
fortune  teller — a  woman  who  lived  on 
the  outskirts  of  town.  She  looked  into 
her  crystal  ball  (Betty  swears  she  had 
one  of  the  things)  and  came  up  with 
the  information  that  Betty  would 
marry  a  man  who  earned  his  living  by 
his  voice.  When  she  told  this  around, 
all  my  false  friends,  remembering  the 
glee  club  incident,  were  hilarious. 
They  speculated  upon  whether  I'd  be  a 
train  caller  or  an  auctioneer.  They 
advised  Betty  to  brush  me  off  fast. 
The  remarkable  thing  about  the  pre- 
diction is  that  in  those  days  radio  was 
in  its  embryonic  state,  and  radio  an- 
nouncers were  one  thing  those  friends 
never  dreamed  of! 

I  don't  mean  to  leave  the  impression, 
though,  that  I  proposed  to  Betty  to 
make  a  fortune  teller's  dream  come 
true.  It  may  be  that  I  figured  I'd  better 
get  the  thing  set  before  a  baritone 
showed  up.  Anyway,  the  prediction 
sort  of  paved  the  way  and  a  Phi  Delt 
dance  not  long  afterwards  provided  the 
opportunity. 

BETTY  and  I  left  the  orchestra  and 
our  friends  to  go  out  of  doors  to  look 
at  the  view.  When  we  went  back  inside, 
she  was  wearing  my  fraternity  pin.  She 
says  I  never  proposed.  Well,  I  must 
have  said  something,  because  as  of  then 
we  were  engaged. 

Betty  taught  for  a  year  after  we 
finished  school,  while  I  began  a  series 
of  experimental  maneuvers  to  find 
where  my  talents  lay  in  the  way  of 
earning  a  living.  I  tried  photography, 
and  selling  insurance  before  I  landed  a 
job  in  an  advertising  agency.  We  set 
our  wedding  date  when  my  paycheck 
looked  as  though  it  would  cover  the 
rent  and  the  grocery  bill.  Betty's  fam- 
ily had  moved  out  to  Glendale,  Cali- 
fornia, and  I  made  my  first  trip  west  to 
be  present  at  my  wedding.  It  is,  of 
course,  an  accepted  theory  that  no  one 
pays  any  mind  to  the  groom  at  any 
marriage  ceremony.  But  I  still  think 
it  was  carried  a  little  far  in  my  case. 
I  didn't  know  a  soul  when  I  walked 
down  the  aisle  to  say  "I,  Kenneth, 
take  .  .  .  ."  except  the  bride  and  the 
officiating  clergyman  who  happened  to 
be  my  father!  Someone  did  introduce 
me  to  my  best  man,  but  I  didn't  even 
catch  his  name! 

We  spent  our  honeymoon  at  River- 
side Inn,  and  though  we've  been  within 
twenty  miles  of  the  place  for  the  last 
twenty  years,  we'd  never  been  back 
until  a  few  months  ago  when  we  at- 
tended the  wedding  of  some  friends 
there.    And  we  are  sentimental! 

We  were  married  July  29,  1922, 
Twenty-five  years  later,  Betty  got  a 
new  wedding  ring.  Her  first  one,  a 
plain  white  gold  band,  was,  she  com- 
plained, worn  almost  through. 

"They  don't  make  them  to  stand  up 
more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century,"  she 
told  me;  "that's  all  that's  expected  of 
them." 

She  is  now  wearing  a  circlet  of  dia- 
monds, but  I  notice  her  old  wedding 
ring  is  lying  in  her  jewel  box  next  to  a 
Phi  Delt  locket. 

Overcome  by  the  sentimental  import 
of  the  occasion,  Betty  broke  a  twenty- 
five-year-old  rule  on  our  silver  anniver- 
sary. She  gave  me  a  picture  of  herself 
in  a  heavy  silver  frame.  She  had  stead- 
fastly, flatly,  refused  to  have  her  pic- 
ture taken  for  all  these  years,  and 
nothing  short  of  a  twenty-fifth  anni- 


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versary,  would,  I'm  sure,  have  changed 
her  mind. 

These  twenty-five  years  have  been 
pretty  great.  They  haven't,  of  course, 
been  trouble  free.  There  was  the  year, 
for  example,  we  left  Chicago  where  I 
had  a  job,  for  California  where  I  hadn't. 
Our  son  Ronny  was  then  about  two 
months  old.  I  figured  I  could  land  a 
job  in  an  ad  agency  out  here — what  I 
didn't  figure  was  that  the  Carpenters' 
arrival  in  California  would  be  prac- 
tically day  and  date  with  the  advent 
of  the  Great  Depression.  There  were 
no  jobs.  After  I'd  rung  doorbells  for 
weeks  without  any  luck,  a  friend,  who 
was  convinced  radio  was  here  to  stay, 
suggested  I  try  for  a  job  in  that  field. 
My  only  qualification  for  an  an- 
nouncer's spot  was  that  I  spoke  Eng- 
lish. I  had  certainly  never  met  a 
microphone  face  to  face.  Anyway,  with 
the  luck  of  a  beginner,  I  got  an  audition 
but  no  job.  With  this  encouragement 
I  began  to  haunt  KFI  and  eventually 
they  gave  up  the  fight  and  I  had  a  job. 
The  end  of  that  first  week,  when  I  took 
home  my  paycheck,  Betty's  happiness 
was  as  nothing  to  tliat  of  the  landlord. 
He  got  the  check. 

Radio  wasn't  paying  star  salaries 
those  days,  and  it  wasn't  a  glamor  pro- 
fession. It  was  hard  work,  and  long 
hours,  and  a  full  measure  of  discour- 
agement. There  were  no  plushy  sta- 
tions with  audience  theaters,  and  huge 
staffs,  and  charted  ratings,  and  lines  of 
people  waiting  to  get  into  the  shows. 
In  the  beginning  there  were  no  shows 
originating  out  here,  except  for  special 
events  like  football  games  and  the 
earthquake  which  won  over  me  by  a 
knockdown. 

I  remember  the  first  time  it  seemed 
I  could  splurge  a  little  for  Betty.  It 
was  her  birthday  and  we  were  having 
people  in  to  dinner.  She'd  spent  the 
day  getting  the  house  ready,  and  had 
put  in  hours  setting  the  table  and  ar- 
ranging flowers.  Just  a  few  minutes 
ahead  of  the  first  guest,  a  truck  drove 
up  and  left  a  package  containing  a  new 
set  of  silver.  Believe  me,  I  didn't  hear 
a  word  about  the  trouble  it  was  to  re- 
set that  table. 

THERE  are,  naturally,  a  number  of 
things  on  which  we  don't  see  exactly 
eye  to  eye.  One  is  cats.  Ronny  and  I 
like  them,  and  every  now  and  again 
through  the  years  we  have  lugged  one 
home.  Betty  gives  them  away  to  the 
milkman,  the  grocery  boy,  our  friends, 
and  for  all  I  know,  to  casual  passersby. 
We  are  getting  the  idea  now  that  cats 
aren't  for  us  and  we  haven't  tried 
smuggling  one  in  for  months.  Betty 
keeps  me  up  on  my  homework  by  read- 
ing the  new  books  and  briefing  me  on 
them.  Left  to  myself,  I  read  mysteries, 
and  she  will  have  no  part  of  them. 

Ronny  and  I  occasionally  have  to 
nudge  her  into  buying  clothes  for  her- 
self. She'd  rather  buy  things  for  the 
house.  Her  only  extravagance  is  hats 
and  the  reason  they  are  extravagant  is 
because  she  never  wears  them  once  she 
has  them. 

Betty  rarely  goes  to  the  radio  station 
with  me,  and  when  I  have  to  go  on  trips 
with  shows  she  seldom  goes  along.  This 
isn't  because  of  any  preconceived  plan, 
but  simply  because  Betty  has  never 
been  the  kind  of  wife  who  wants,  as 
Jimmy  Durante  says,  "to  get  into  the 
act."  Her  relationship  to  my  work  is 
exactly  the  same  as  if  I  had  an  office 
job  which  took  me  to  my  desk  at  six 
each  morning  and  brought  me  home  on 
the  six  o'clock  bus.  Betty  is  essentially  a 
homemaker.    She  is  a  fine  amateur  in- 


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terior  decorator  and  I  think  our  house 
reflects  the  unerring  good  taste,  the 
humor,  the  warmth  and  the  hospitality 
that  are  hers.  She  hasn't  ever  been 
interested  in  being  a  career  woman. 
This  is  no  argument  against  careers  for 
girls,  it's  just  that  in  our  case  we  are 
happier  this  way  with  Betty  at  home. 
She  always  listens  to  me  on  the  air 
though,  and,  if  I  ask,  she  gives  her 
criticism  of  the  shows.  She's  oftener 
right  than  not.  We  have  exactly  two 
records  of  my  voice  in  the  house.  The 
reason  they  are  there  is  because  they 
are  transcriptions  of  Command  Per- 
formances and  the  other  people  on 
them  are  superlatively  great. 

Ronny  is  19,  and  we  sent  him  back 
to  Galesburg,  Illinois  where  we  went  to 
school.  This  is  his  second  year  there. 
The  college  has  changed  now,  merged 
with  another  school,  Knox  College  of 
"Old  Siwash"  fame.  We  felt  he  should 
go  back  because  he  was  raised  in  Holly- 
wood, and  we  wanted  him  to  know 
there  is  a  world  east  of  Sunset  and 
Vine. 

HE  HAS  never  shown  any  interest  in 
radio  as  a  career,  but  last  fall  he  did 
the  "color"  between  halves  of  a  high 
school  football  game  in  Galesburg.  He 
says  the  reason  he  did  it,  and  the  rea- 
son he  wasn't  scared,  was  because  he 
knew  I  couldn't  hear  him.  It  was  a 
local  station. 

We  are  pretty  much  of  a  close  cor- 
poration, Betty,  Ronny  and  I.  We're 
the  sort  of  family  that  makes  a  lot  of 
holidays  and  anniversaries.  Betty,  of 
course,  is  the  guiding  hand,  and  prob- 
ably it  is  because  she  has  made  them 
fun  instead  of  an  obligation  that  Ronny 
and  I  seldom  slip  up  on  a  date  we 
should  remember.  Betty's  never  been 
the  kind  of  mother  who  said  to  her 
child,  "Wait  till  your  father  gets 
home.  .  .  ."  We've  shared  the  responsi- 
bility of  raising  Ronny  as  we've  shared 
everything  else,  and  we  think  he's 
turned  out  a  pretty  nice  kind  of  fellow. 
He  and  I  have  been  through  the  electric 
train,  model  plane  and  comic  book 
stages,  and  we've  graduated  now  as  far 
as  golf.  Last  summer,  I  may  say,  he 
gave  his  old  man  a  little  more  competi- 
tion than  was  altogether  tactful. 

In  spite  of  what  people  say,  Betty 
and  I  enjoy  going  out  together,  and  we 
do  very  often.  We  like  going  places, 
seeing  things,  doing  things  together. 

There's  a  somewhat  widespread  feel- 
ing that  "happy,"  when  used  to  de- 
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We  know  people  who  actually  think 
that  way.  Not  one  of  them  has  ever 
been  happily  married — not  even  once. 

We've  never  spent  any  time  analyz- 
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happy.  Maybe  it's  because  we  married 
young  and  have  shared  most  of  our 
adult  life  together,  so  we  have  so  much 
in  common.  Or,  possibly,  it  is  because 
we  like  each  other.  Then  again,  we 
may   be  just  lucky  in  love. 


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Vanity  Fair 

{Continued  from  page  46) 

partly  to  herself  and  partly  to  the 
others,  "by  the  time  we  get  our  inter- 
view and  write  our  pieces  and  they're 
printed,  some  of  our  readers  will  al- 
ready have  seen  Mrs.  Kasenkina  and 
heard  her  voice  on  television,  and  noth- 
ing we  can  write  will  have  as  much 
force  as  her  own  words  and  her  own 
personality." 

Suddenly  her  mind  was  made  up. 
All  she  had  to  do  was  talk  to  Dick  about 
it.  Dick  is  Mr.  Doan,  the  fellow  who 
shares  the  three-and-arhalf  room  apart- 
ment in  suburban  Bronxville  with  Dor- 
othy; the  same  fellow  who  was  her  city 
editor  on  the  newspaper  in  Pasadena 
where  they  met  and  married  eight 
years  ago. 

Dick  thought  television  and  Dorothy 
were  made  for  each  other;  that  clinched 
it.  A  few  weeks  later  Dorothy  was 
hostessing  a  brand  new  Tuesday  and 
Thursday  video  program  at  1:00  P.M. 
EST,  on  WCBS-TV. 

It  really  is  an  extension  of  her  news- 
paper work.  On  Vanity  Fair  she  in- 
terviews famous  personalities  and 
newsworthy  people  of  all  sorts  about 
little  and  big  events  that  interest  you 
and  me. 

Dick's  paper  is  printed  near  the 
Bowery  and  he  saw  Dorothy's  first 
broadcast  from  a  bar  on  that  spectacu- 
lar street,  perched  on  a  chair  to  get  a 
better  view.  "That's  my  wife,"  he  an- 
nounced proudly  to  the  surprised  and 
only  mildly  interested  patrons  who 
hadn't  come  primarily  for  the  television. 

The  cottage  setting  for  her  program 
is  Dorothy's  idea,  and  it's  very  like  her 
own  livingroom.  She  wanted  the  kind 
of  background  on  the  program  that 
would  make  everyone  feel  comfortable. 

"There  would  be  women  watching 
me  who  would  want  to  keep  in  touch 
with  all  the  exciting  and  interesting 
things  that  are  happening,  but  they 
wouldn't  want  me  to  be  chi-chi  and  in- 
sincere about  it  on  my  program.  I  just 
couldn't  be.  My  friends  say  I'm  naive 
— and  I  guess  I  am.  Perhaps  it's  be- 
cause I  come  from  a  smaller  place  and 
am  really  not  a  sophisticated  person." 

DOROTHY'S  husband  grew  up  in  Kan- 
sas and  went  to  California  to  work 
as  a  newspaper  man.  Dorothy  was 
brought  up  in  California,  went  to  Pasa- 
dena High  School  and  Cumnock  School 
for  Girls  in  Los  Angeles. 

The  Pasadena  Star-News,  where  they 
both  worked,  played  Cupid  to  Dorothy 
and  Dick,  and  when  the  owner  died 
suddenly  they  found  he  had  left  seven- 
ty-five dollars  to  each  of  his  employees. 
That  made  a  hundred  and  fifty-six  dol- 
lars in  the  Doan  treasury,  counting  the 
six  they  had  on  hand  at  the  time.  With 
that  nest  egg,  they  started  out  in  an 
old  Essex  Terraplane  to  seek  their  for- 
tunes in  the  east. 

They  finally  reached  New  York 
where  Dick  sold  the  car  for  sixty  dol- 
lars to  replenish  the  treasury.  He 
wanted  to  live  in  Greenwich  Village 
because  he  had  heard  it  was  Bohemian 
and  colorful  but  Dorothy  liked  the 
clean  look  of  the  neighborhood  around 
Columbia  University.  So,  they  took  a 
room  near  Columbia. 

Things  began  to  happen.  Dorothy 
got  a  job  at  Time  magazine,  as  a  re- 
searcher. On  the  same  day  Dick  got  a 
job  on  a  paper  upstate  in  Albany— 
and  Dorothy  had  to  quit  hers  before 
she  got  started.  When  Dick  met  her  in 
Albany  she  was  weeping  over  it. 


15  Minutes  a  Day  Brings 

Amazing  New  Loveliness 

to  Throat  and  Cliin! 

Today,  thousands  of  happy  women  are  giving 
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A  Lovelier  Profile  or  Your  Money  Back! 
Fill  in  the  coupon  below  now.  Take  this  defi- 
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after  7  days'  trial.  Rush  coupon  today. 
Please  print  name. 

■      MODEL  COMPANY,  Dept.  604 
36  South  state  Street,  Chicago  3.  Illinois 
I  Please  send  me  a  MODEL  CHIN  STRAP. 

I'll  pay  postman  $1.50  plus  postage.   If  I  am  not 
I      satisfied  after  7  days,  I'll  return  it  for  refund  of 
"      my  purchase  price.    (If  you  send  cash  we  pay 
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-      Name • 

Address -  .  •  ■ 

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iOLD  (OliyS ,  BlUS  and  STAM PS| 

I  POST  YOURSELF!  It  pays!/ 

I  paid  $400.00  to  Mrs.  Dowtyl; 

of  Texas, f  crone  Half  Dollar;  \ 

I  J.D.Martin  of  Virginia$200.00  , 

for  a  single  Copper  Cent.  Mr.  ^ 

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R 

M 

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Thrifty  "me,"  bought  these 


''^/|ii\'''/M\ 


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at  $99-95.  (No  Federal 
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HOLMES  &  EDWARDS 

STERLING  INLAID' 

SILVERPLATE 


DANISH 

PRINCESS 

lOVELY 

lAOY 

YOUTH 


Copyright  1949,  Ths  International  Silver  Co.,  Holmes  8  Edwards  Division, 
Meriden,  Conn.  Sold  In  Canada  by:  The  T.  Eaton  Co.,  Ltd.  °ReE.  U.  S.  Pat.  Off. 


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112 


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Booklet 

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She  didn't  weep  long.  She  marched 
herself  to  the  Albany  Times-Union  and 
by  four  o'clock  had  an  assignment  to 
write  a  daily  column,  first  copy  due  at 
the  paper  at  nine  that  evening. 

Dorothy  got  the  material  she  needed 
for  her  column  and  then  had  to  wait  for 
Dick  to  pick  her  up  and  show  her 
where  they  were  going  to  live.  Then 
she  typed  out  her  copy  and  hurried  off 
to  the  paper  just  under  the  deadline. 

When  Dick  enlisted  in  the  Navy  Dor- 
othy got  herself  a  job  in  the  Charleston 
Navy  Yard  near  where  he  was  sta- 
tioned. After  Dick's  discharge  they  re- 
turned to  New  York  where  she  got  on 
the  night  shift  at  Associated  Press. 

ONE  night  she  was  talking  to  a  fel- 
low worker  who  was  wishing  she 
could  get  into  radio.  "I've  just  had  a 
radio  offer,"  Dorothy  told  her,  "but  I 
don't  want  it.  I'm  a  newspaper 
woman." 

"I  know  where  you  can  get  a  news- 
paper job,  as  a  Long  Island  reporter," 
the  girl  told  her. 

Dorothy  ran,  not  walked,  to  Inter- 
national News  Service,  only  to  find  that 
a  Long  Island  reporter  was  the  thing 
they  had  least  need  of!  But  they  tried 
her  on  some  radio  coverage  and  prom- 
ised to  move  her  over  to  the  wire 
later,  if  they  liked  her  stuff.  Before 
she  knew  it,  INS  had  made  her  woman's 
editor  and  assigned  her  to  cover  the 
United  Nations. 

And  then  the  television  bolt  struck. 

"But  I  take  a  terrible  picture,"  was 
her  second  reaction  to  the  offer,  her 
first  of  course  being  her  reluctance  to 
leave  the  work  she  loved. 

To  Dorothy's  surprise,  her  camera 
test  turned  out  just  fine.  Then  came 
the  audition  for  the  top  brass  of  video. 
They  stuck  her  out  in  front  of  the 
cameras  and  told  her  to  start  talking 
about  herself  and  keep  it  up  for  ten 
minutes.  "Just  talk  right  out  into 
space,"  they  said  airily. 

For  a  moment  she  could  hardly  re- 
member her  own  name.  "But  some- 
thing happens  to  you  when  you  get  'on 
camera,'  "  she  explains  it  now.  "You 
just  go  ahead  and  do  the  job." 

She  hadn't  reckoned  with  the  fact 
that  a  new  television  studio  was  being 
built  and  the  pounding  would  go  on 
during  her  audition.  Sometimes  she 
could  hardly  hear  her  own  voice,  but 
she  was  concentrating  so  hard  that  she 
was  hardly  aware  of  the  noise. 

"You're  hired,"  they  told  her  when 
she  got  through.  "If  you  can  carry  on 
against  all  that  racket  you  can  carry 
this  program  through  anything." 

Dorothy  went  on  the  air  a  week  after 
that  and,  right  from  the  outset,  the  pro- 
gram was  a  hit.  Now  she  feels  like  an 
old  hand  at  the  game,  can't  imagine 
anything  she'd  rather  do.  Maybe  it 
satisfies  the  urge  she  once  had  to  be  an 
actress.  After  high  school  she  spent  a 
year  at  the  Pasadena  Community  Play- 
house, until  she  was  washed  out.  No 
divine  spark,  they  told  her.  So  she's 
in  love  with  this  combining  of  report- 
ing and  show  business,  and  it's  her 
belief  that  good  things  like  this  don't 
just  happen — one  experience  fits  into 
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perfect  whole. 

The  Doans'  Bronxville  apartment  has 
its  own  patch  of  grass  and  garden — 
and  a  lucky  thing  it  is,  because  it  has 
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Variety,  and  he  has  to  be  available 
seven  days  a  week.  They  dream  of  a 
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Play 
thisUKULELE.  SendNo 
Money.  Just  name  &  address. 
We  trust  you  with  40  packs  Gar- 
den Seeds  to  sell  at  10c  ea.  Remit 
and  we'll  send  Ukulele  and  Instruction  book. 
Ho  more  money  to  pay.  Write  for  SEEDS. 
UNCASTER  COUNTY  SEED  CO..  Sta.  242,  Paradise.  Pa. 


'"piSgr  PSORIASIS 


MAKE  THE  ONE 

SPOT 

TEST. 


(GCALY     SKIN     TROUBLE) 

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sent  FREE.  Writeforit. 


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Something  Extra 

{Continued  from  page   59) 

Remove  to  platter  or  serving  plates 
and  fill  nests  with  hot  buttered  peas, 
buttered  carrots  or  any  creamed  food. 

Potato   Soup 

6  large  potatoes  V2  tsp.  pepper 

2  medium  onions  2  tbsps.  butter 

2  quarts  water  V2  cup  undiluted 

11/^  tbsps.  salt  evaporated  milk 

celery  salt 

Peel  and  slice  potatoes  and  onions. 
Bring  water  to  boiling  point;  add  salt, 
pepper  and  vegetables.  Cook  until 
vegetables  are  very  tender  and  start 
to  fall  apart  (about  20  to  30  minutes) 
stirring  as  necessary  to  prevent  scorch- 
ing. Remove  from  stove  and  beat  with 
rotary  egg  beater  to  break  up  potatoes. 
Or  if  a  smooth  creamy  soup  is  pre- 
ferred, skim  out  vegetables  and  put 
through  strainer  or  ricer,  then  return 
to  kettle.  Add  butter  and  evaporated 
milk.  Re-heat.  Add  more  seasoning 
if  required.  Serve  hot  with  sprinkling 
of  celery  salt  over  top  of  each  serving. 
Serves  six. 

Supper  Surprise 

1  12-ounce  can  butter 

luncheon  meat  milk 

21/^  cups  hot  mashed  3  tbsps.  minced 

potatoes  pimiento 

salt,  pepper  5  eggs 

Remove  luncheon  meat  from  can  in 
one  piece  and  slice  lengthwise  to  make 
five  slices  a  scant  half-inch  thick.  Place 
slices  in  bottom  of  greased  broad,  shal- 
low baking  dish.  Season  mashed  po- 
tatoes to  taste  with  salt,  pepper  and 
butter  and  a  small  amount  of  milk. 
Add  pimiento  and  beat  until  fluffy. 
Form  potatoes  into  deep  nests  on  top 
of  meat  slices,  making  sides  of  nests 
at  least  a  half-inch  thick  and  high 
enough  to  contain  egg.  Place  a  raw  egg 
in  each  nest.  Sprinkle  with  salt  and 
pepper.  Bake  in  moderate  oven  (350°F) 
15  or  20  minutes  until  eggs  are  set. 
Serves  5. 

Potato  Dumplings 

1  egg  2  cups  cooked 

salt,  pepper,  nut-  mashed  potatoes 

meg  1  cup  flour  (about) 

Break  egg  into  a  bowl  and  beat 
slightly.  Season  with  salt,  pepper  and 
nutmeg  and  mix.  Add  maslied  po- 
tatoes to  egg  mixture  and  mix  well. 
Sift  in  the  flour  using  enough  to  make 
dough  soft  but  firm  enough  to  hold  its 
shape  when  boiled.  (If  potatoes  are 
mealy  or  moist,  more  flour  will  be  re- 
quired.) Form  mixture  into  balls  about 
one  and  one-half  inches  in  diameter. 
Drop  into  large  kettle  of  rapidly  boiling 
salted  water  and  cook  at  a  slow  boil 
for  12  to  15  minutes,  stirring  gently 
the  first  minute  to  prevent  sticking. 
The  dumplings  will  drop  to  the  bottom 
of  pan  and  will  rise  to  the  top  as  they 
cook.  Remove  dumplings  gently  with 
slotted  spoon,  drain  off  all  moisture 
and  serve  hot  with  rich  meat  gravy. 
Makes  about  10  dumplings. 

German  Hot  Potato   Salad 

12  small  potatoes  4  sprigs  parsley 

1  stalk  celery  %  to  Vz  pound  bacon 

1  medium  onion  2  tbsps.  vinegar 

Boil  potatoes  with  skins  on  in  salted 
water.  Dice  celery  and  mince  onion  and 
parsley.  Cut  bacon  in  small  pieces  and 
fry  until  crisp.  Remove  skin  from  po- 
tatoes while  hot  and  slice.  Add  drained 
fried  bacon,  celery  and  parsley.  Add 
vinegar  to  bacon  fat  in  pan,  reheat 
slightly,  mix  with  salad.   Serve  hot. 


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114 


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Jllake  the  Camel  30-J)ai/  Test ^Ji  MOVE 

mMEL  MILDNESS 

IN  YOUR  "T-ZONEI 


YES,  make  the  Camel  30-day  mildness 
test.  Smoke  Camels  for  30  days . . .  it's 
revealing— z.vidi  it's  fun  to  learn  for  yourself. 

Let  YOUR  OWN  THROAT  tell  you  the 
wonderful  story  of  Camel's  cool,  cool  mild- 
ness. Let  YOUR  O'WN  TASTE  tell  you 
about  the  rich,  full  flavor  of  Camel's  choice 
tobaccos  —  so  carefully  aged  and  expertly 
blended. 

In  a  recent  national  test,  hundreds  of 
men  and  women  smoked  Camels,  and  only 
Camels,  for  thirty  consecutive  days  — an  av- 
erage of  1  to  2  packs  a  day.  Noted  throat 
specialists  examined  the  throats  of  these 
smokers  every  week  (a  total  of  2470  exami- 
nations) and  reported 

NO  THROAT  IRRITATION 


due  to  smoking  CAMELS! 


MORE  DOCTORS  SMOKE  CAMELS 
THAN  ANY  OTHER  CIGARETTE 

Doctors  smoke  for  pleasure,  loo!  And  when  three  leading  in- 
dependent research  organizations  asked  113,597  doctors  what 
cigarette    they    smoked,    the    brand    named    most    was    Camel ! 


rsff>^ 


D  TELEVISION 


•'"mist  Pi^yi 


VI 


You  can  be  lovelier  from  head  to  toe  with  the  Camay  Beauty  Bath! 
Bathe  every  day  with  new  Bath-Size  Camay  and  you  give 

your  arms,  your  back,  your  legs  true  complexion  care.  You'll  rise 
from  your  bath  clean,  refreshed  — your  skin  just  touched 

with  the  flower-like  fragrance  of  Camay,  the  Soap  of  Beautiful  Women! 


PURE,  MILD, 

LUXURIOUS  LATHER! 


BEST 
BEAUTY 
>X     BATHS 
EVER! 


cM5>"^ 


'"Penflsts  sag  ifie  IPANA  itiatj  mk  {' 

Junior  Model  Pat  Barnard  shows  how  it  can  woric  for  you,  too 


Queen  of  the  cruise  ship,  17-year-old  model  Pat  Barnard  of  Great 
Neck,  N.  Y.,  scores  a  terrific  hit!  Pat  always  finds  her  career  and  her 
date-life  mighty  smooth  sailing— thanks  to  that  dazzling  smile! 

Naturally,  Pat  follows  the  Ipana  way  to  healthier  gums  and 
brighter  teeth  .  .  .  because  dentists  say  it  works !  Her  professionally 
approved  Ipana  dental  care  can  work  for  you,  too— like  this . . . 


YES,  8  OUT  OF  10  DENTISTS  SAY: 


The  Ipana  Way  is  fun  to  follow,  Pat  tells  her  cabin- 
mate.  Dentists  say  it  works  . . .  and  it's  easy  as  1,  2: 

1.  Between  regular  visits  to  your  dentist,  brush  all  tooth 
surfaces  with  Ipana  at  least  twice  a  day. 

2.  Then  massage  gums  the  way  your  dentist  advises  — to 
stimulate  gum  circulation.  (Ipana's  unique  formula  ac- 
tually helps  stimulate  your  gums— you  can  feel  the  in- 

•    vigorating  tingle!) 

Try  this  for  healthier  gums,  brighter  teeth,  an  Ipana  smile. 
Ipana  refreshes  your  mouth  and  breath,  too.  Ask  your  den- 
tist about  Ipana  and  massage.  See  what  it  can  do  for  you! 


k 


Product  of  Bristol-Myers 


Bm  <fenfal  cars  womotis/s 

-Healtfifer  jums,  bn^fiter  Wfi 


*In  thousands  of  reports  from  all  over  the  country. 


P.S.  For  correct  brushing,  use  the  DOUBLE  DUTY  Tooth  Brush  with  the  twist  in  the  handle.  1000  dentists  helped  design  it! 


MARCH,  1949 


VOL.  31,  NO.  4 


MIRROR 


AXD  TELEVISIODl 


KEYSTONE 


LATER-Thanks  to  Colgate  Dental  Cream 


Cleans  Your  Breath 

While  It  Cleans 

Your Teeth! 


cow 


ECONOMY  SIZE 


L 


Always  use 
COLGATE  DENTAL  CREAM 
offer  /ou  ea>  and  before  every  6a^» 


cxr/iA  SIS/ rgii 


PEOPLE  ON  THE  AiR 


Unrest  in  the  Air by  Harriet  Van  Home  14 

What  I  Think  of  Walter  Winchell 23 

What   Do   You   Think   of   Waiter   Winchell? 24 

Come  and  Visit  Amos by  Alice  Craig  Greene  26 

Come  and  Visit  Andy by  Alice  Craig  Greene  28 

This  Quiz  Business by  Bob  Hawk  30 

Life  Without  Father by  Eve  Arden  32 

This  is  Nora  Drake — in  Living  Portraits 34 

High   Score   in   Happiness 52 

My  Husband  Alan  Young By  Virginia  McCurdy  Young  54 

Ladies  Be  Seated — In  Color 56 

"My  Favorite  Wives" by  Richard  Denning  58 

IHHi»|g;f;l»H'] 

Information   Booth 3 

Look  At  The  Records by  Joe  Martin  4 

Facing  the  Music by  Duke  Ellington  16 

What's  New  From  Coast  to  Coast by  Dale  Banks  20 

Inside    Radio 68 

Quiz    Catalogue 71 


FOR  BITTER  II VI NG 


Look  This  Way! by  Mary  Jane  Fulton  19 

Between  the  Bookends by  Ted  Malone  38 

When  a  Girl  Marries by  Joan   Davis  40 

Traveler  of  the  Month by  Tommy  Bartlett  42 

Cheers  for  Cheese by  Kate  Smith  62 

It's  Better  Business — Family  Counselor by  Terry  Burton  72 

WOR:  A.  M.  Herald 6 

KDKA:    Wuxtry,  Wuxtry ! 8 

WIBG:  Rebel-Hearted  Stutz 10 

WBEN:  From  Little  Acorns 12 

WNBC :  Speaking  of  Women— Mary  Margaret  McBride 60 


YOUR    LOCAL     STATION 


Editor's  Note 43 

Two  on  the  TV  Aisle 44 

Kukla,  Fran  and   Ollie 45 

Big  Brick 46 

Girl  About  Town 47 

Pat  and  Wilmer 48 

D.C.  TV 49 

Coast  to  Coast  in  Television 50 

Life  of  Fred  Allen by  Ira  Knaster  64 


ON  THE  COVER:  Walter  Winchell;  color  portrait  by  Sterling  Smith 

Editorial  Director  Editor  Art  Director 

FS£D  K.  SAMMIS  DOBIS  McFXlBBAN  JACK  ZA80BIN 

Managing  Editor  Associate  Art  Director 

EVELYN  li.  EIOBE  FBANCES  MALY 

Television  Editorial  Assistant  Research 

FBANCES  KISH  JOAN  POLLOCK  TEEU  GOTO 

Chicago  Office:  Editor,  HELEN    CAMBBIA    BOLSTAD 
Hollywood  Office:  Editor,  ANN  DAGGETT  Managing  Editor,  FBANCES  MOBBIN 

Staff  Photographers,  HYMIE  FINK,  STEBLING  SMITH        Assistant,  BETTY  JO  BICE 


RADIO  AND  TELEVISION  MIRROR,  published  monthly  by  MACFADDEN  PITBLICATIONS,  INC.,  New  York  N.  Y. 
General  Business,  Editorial  and  Advertising  Offices,  205  East  42nd  St.,  New  York  17,  N.  Y.  Hollywood-Beverly 
Hills  Office:  321  S.  Beverly  Drive.  Beverly  Hills,  California.  O.  J.  Elder,  President;  Harold  Wise,  Executive  Vice 
President:  Herbert  Drake,  Vice  President:  Joseph  Schultz,  Vice  President:  Ernest  V.  Heyn,  Vice  President; 
Meyer  Dworkin,  Secretary  and  Treasurer;  Edward  F.  Lethen,  Advertising  Director.  Chicago  Office:  221  North  La 
Salle  St.,  Leslie  R.  Gage,  Mgr.  San  Francisco  Office:  1613  Russ  Building,  Joseph  M.  Dooher.  Mgr.  Lcs  Angeles 
Office:  Suite  908.  649  South  Olive  St.,  George  Weatherby.  Mgr.  Charles  O.  Terwilliger,  Jr.,  Eastern  Advertising 
Manager,  205  East  42nd  St.,  New  York  17,  N.  Y.  Reentered  as  Second  Class  matter  March  1,  1948,  at  the  Post 
Office  at  New  York,  N.  Y.,  under  the  Act  of  March  3,  1879.  Subscription  rates:  U.  S.  and  possessions,  Canada  and 
Newfoundland,  S2.50  per  year.  All  other  countries  S5.00  per  year.  Price  per  copy:  25c  in  the  United  States  and 
Canada.  While  Manuscripts,  Photographs  and  Drawings  are  submitted  at  the  owner's  risk,  every  efifort  will  be 
made  to  return  those  found  unavailable  if  accompanied  by  sufficient  first  class  postage  and  explicit  name  and 
address.  Contributors  are  especially  advised  to  be  sure  to  retain  copies  of  their  contributions;  otherwise  they 
are  taking  unnecessary  risk.  The  contents  of  this  magazine  may  not  be  reprinted  either  wholly  or  in  part  without 
permission. 

(Member  of  Macfadden  Women's  Group) 

Copyright,   1949,  by  Macfadden  Publications,  Inc.  All  rights  reser\'ed  under  International  Copyright  Convention.  All 

rights  reserved  under  Pan-Aiperican   Copyright   Convention.    Todos   derechos  reser\'ados   segun  La   Convencion   Pan- 

americana  de  Propledad  Literaria  y  Artistica.  Title  trademark  registered  in  U.  S.  Patent  Office. 

Printed  In  U.   S.   A.   by  Art   Color  Printing  Co.,   Dunellen.   N.   J. 


INFORMATION 
BOOTH 


FOR  YOUR  INFORMATION— if  there's 
something  you  want  to  know  about 
radio,  write  to  Information  Booth, 
Radio  Mirror,  205  E.  42nd  St.,  New  York. 
We'll  answer  if  we  can  either  in  Infor- 
mation Booth  or  by  mail — but  be  sure 
to  sign  full  name  and  address,  and  at- 
tach this  box  to  your  letter. 


GLORIA  MANN 


TEENAGERS 

Dear  Editor: 

I  would  like  to 
know  who  plays  the 
part  of  Veronica  in 
Archie  Andrews. 
Also,  who  plays 
Oogie  in  Date  With 
Judy? 

Mr.  E.  S. 
South  Charleston,  0. 

Veronica  is  played 
by  Gloria  Mann 
whose  picture  you 
see  here.  She  is  ac- 
tive in  motion  pictures,  too — her  latest  was 
'^Martin  Rome,"  opposite  Richard  Conte. 
As  for  Oogie  Pringle,  he's  played  by  Dick 
Crenna.  Incidentally,  Dick  plays  another 
teenager,  Walter  Denton,  in  CBS'  Our  Miss 
Brooks. 

PRIZES 
Dear  Editor:. 

Here's  a  question  that  has  been  puzzling 
me  for  quite  some  time.  Who  pays  for  the 
fabulous  prizes  awarded  on  the  quiz  pro- 
grams? Do  the  sponsors,  or  do  the  manu- 
facturers of  the  automobiles,  refrigerators, 
washing  machines,  etc? 

Mrs.  T.  B. 
Oswego,  N.  Y. 

The  manufacturers  of  the  radios,  auto- 
mobiles, washing  machines,  or  what  have 
you,  donate  the  prizes.  In  return  they 
receive  free  advertising  when  those  items 
are  mentioned  over  the  air  as  the  prizes 
to  be  awarded  to  the  lucky  winners.  As 
you  can  readily  see,  these  free  plugs  are 
worth  many  times  the  value  of  the  mer- 
chandise. 

MAJOR  BOWES 
Dear  Editor: 

Please  tell  me 
what  happened  to 
our  good  old  Major 
Bowes.  Has  he  re- 
tired? 

Mrs.  E.  A. 
Friday  Harbor, 
Wash. 

We  are  sorry  to 
tell  you,  and  the 
many  other  people 
who  have  asked 
about  him,  that  Ma- 
jor Bowes,  the  originator  of  the  famed  Ama- 
teur Hour,  passed  away  on  June  13,  1946. 

MOOREHEAD   ON   SHELLAC 

Dear  Editor: 

I  was  much  impressed  with  Agnes  Moore- 
head's  version  of  Sorry,  Wrong  Number  by 
Lucille  Fletcher  over  CBS'  Suspense  pro- 
gram. I  understand  that  there  is  now  an 
album  of  this  play  recorded.  Am  anxious  to 
know  what  company  has  recorded  this 
sketch  and  where  it  can  be  obtained. 

Mr.  R.  P. 
Deer  Lodge,  Mont. 

This  album  was  recorded  by  Decca  and 
can  be  ordered  through  your  local  music 
shop  if  it  is  not  available  there. 


MAJOK  BOWES 


iefr-Out  hdinq 


Get  back  in  the  picture,  Sis!  That's 
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And  never  trust  your  charm  to  anything 
hut  dependable  Mum.  For  Mum's  unique, 


modern  formula  works  entirely  for 
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safety-first  girl.  Get  a  jar  of  Mum  today! 


M 


lUlW-^lAl  ](0t  &mMj  ...Mum  checks  per- 
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evening.  Protects  against  risk  of  future  odor  after 
your  bath  washes  away  past  perspiration. 


W         "  irritating  ing 
form  scratch; 


Gentle  Mum  contains  no  harsh  or 
W         "  irritating  ingredients.  Doesn't  dry  out  in  the  jar  to 
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in- 
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to  rot  or  discolor  fine  fabrics.  Quick,  pleasant  to 
use.  Economical,  too— no  shrinkage,  no  waste. 


"Mitio  'Ift'MCJV 


Product  of  Briitol-Myirt 


TONI  TWINS  prove  magic  of 
SOFT-WATER  Shampooing 


LATHER  . . . 

WAS  LILA'S  PROBLEM! 

"This  soap  shampoo  just 
won't  give  me  enough  lather," 
says  Lila  Wigren.  "Our  hard 
water  sees  to  that!"  And  a 
lack  of  lather  isn't  the  only 
problem,  Lila.  Even  the  finest 
soap  shampoos  leave  hair 
with  dulling  film,  that  just 
won't  rinse  away.  So  the  nat- 
ural sparkle  of  your  hair  is 
concealed.  Looks  drab... life- 
less. It's  hard  to  manage,  too. 


BUT  ELLA 

GOT  HEAPS  OF  IT! 

"Look  at  the  lather  I  get,"  says 
twin  Ella.  "Imagine  !  Toni 
Creme  Shampoo  gives  me  Soft- 
Water  Shampooing  even  in 
hard  water!"  And  Ella— your 
hair  shows  a  difference,  too. 
Toni's  thorough  cleansing  ac- 
tion leaves  it  glowing  with 
lovely,  morning-dew  freshness. 
Its  natural  beauty  is  revealed 
.  .  .  those  wonderfully  soft, 
smooth    curls    fairly    sparkle. 


NOW  IT'S  TONI  CREME  SHAMPOO  FOR  TWO 

They've  seen  the  proof!  And  the  lovely 
Wigren  twins  are  convinced  that  no  soap  or 
soap  shampoo  can  match  the  advantages  of 
Toni  Creme  Shampoo.  For  it  gives  you  Soft- 
Water  Shampooing  even  in  hardest  water. 
Leaves  your  hair  gloriously  smooth  and  soft, 
easy-to-manage.  Helps  your  permanent  "take" 
better.  Those  oceans  of  creamy -thick  lather 
rinse  away  dirt  and  dandruff  instantly.  Your 
hair  sparkles  with  lovely  natural  highlights. 
Try  Soft-Water  Shampooing  today.  Get  the 
jar  or  tube  of  Toni  Creme  Shampoo.  It's  new  I 


LOOK 


U  THE 


Enriched  with  Lanolin 


RECOROS 


DANCING  OR  LISTENING 

JIMMY  DURANTE  (MGM)— In- 
imitable is  the  word  for  Jimmy. 
His  performance  on  this  disc  is 
great,  wonderful  and  "stoopendi- 
ous"!  "The  State  Of  Arkansas"  is 
a  Durante  original.  "Dollar  A  Year 
Man."  the  reverse,  is  an  infectious 
number. 

GENE    KRUPA     ORCHESTRA 

(Columbia)  —  Gene's  "Tea  For 
Two"  features  an  interpretive  vo- 
cal chorus  by  Anita  O'Day,  while 
"How  High  The  Moon"  offers  big 
band  jazz  with  semi-boppish  trom- 
bone and  trumpet  solos. 

CHARLIE  VENTURA  (National) 
— Who  said  that  be-bop  wasn'i 
commercial?  If  you  think  that  you 
can't  "understand"  this  new  kind 
of  music,  then  listen  to  "I'm  For- 
ever Blowing  Bubbles"  as  played 
by  Charlie's  group  and  sung  by 
Jackie  Cain  and  Roy  Krai.  The 
reverse  side  is  nothing. 

PEGGY  LEE  (Capitol)— Mrs.  Dave 
Barbour  is  nothing  less  than  ex- 
citingly wonderful  on  a  very  sexy 
"Hold  Me"  and  a  very  jumpy  "Then 
I'll  Be  Happy."  The  orchestral  ac- 
companiment on  both  sides  is 
modern  and  extremely  well-played. 
A  fine  disc,  this. 

PHIL  MOORE  ORCHESTRA  (Dis- 
covery)— The  new  record  label  has 
certainly  discovered  a  great  new 
talent  in  Phil  Moore.  A  talent  that 
has  been  hidden  for  too  long.  His 
original  compositions  and  orches- 
trations are  of  the  modern  school. 
"Cornucopia"  features  Harry 
Schuchman  on  English  Horn  and  a 
symphonic  jazz  band.  "125th  St. 
Prophet"  features  Calvin  Jackson, 
Al  Hendrickson,  Marshall  Royal, 
Harry  Klee  and  Dan  Lube.  An  ex- 
cellent and  interesting  new  disc. 


ALBUM  ARTISTRY 

SIDNEY  BECHET  (Columbia)  — 
The  "grand  old  man  of  the  soprano 
saxophone"  demonstrates  his  mu- 
sicianship and  versatility  on  eight 
varied  sides  of  jazz  that  run  from 
Cole  Porter  songs  to  Bechet  origi- 
nals. He  plays  both  soprano  sax 
and  clarinet  here  and  will  satisfy 
all — from  "two-beat"  collectors  to 
lovers    of    "just    good    music." 


By  JOE  MARTIN 


Your  Cold... 

the  plain  truth 
about  it 


Can  you  avoid  catching  cold? 
And  if  you  do  catch  one  is  it 
possible  to  reduce  its  severity? 
Oftentimes — YES. 

IT  IS  now  believed  by  outstanding 
members  of  the  medical  profes- 
sion that  colds  and  their  complica- 
tions are  frequently  produced  by  a 
combination  of  factors  working  to- 
gether. 

1.  That  an  unseen  virus,  entering 
through  the  nose  or  mouth,  probably 
starts  many  colds. 


2.  That  the  so-called  "Secondary 
Invaders",  a  potentially  troublesome 
group  of  bacteria,  including  germs  of 
the  pneumonia  and  streptococcus 
types,  then  can  complicate  a  cold  by 
staging  a  "mass  invasion"  of  throat 
tissues. 

3.  That  anything  which  lowers 
body  resistance,  such  as  cold  feet, 
wet  feet,  fatigue,  exposure  to  sudden 
temperature  changes,  may  not  only 
make  the  work  of  the  virus  easier  but 
encourage  the  "mass  invasion"  of 
germs. 

Tests  Showed  Fewer  Colds 

The  time  to  strike  a  cold  is  at  its 
very  outset  ...  to  go  after  the  sur- 
face germs  before  they  go  after  you 
...  to  fight  the  "mass  invasion"  of 
the  tissue  before  it  becomes  serious. 

The  ability  of  Listerine  Antiseptic 
as  a  germ-killing  agent  needs  no  elab- 
oration. Important  to  you,  however, 
is  the  impressive  record  against  colds 
made  by  Listerine  Antiseptic  in  tests 


made  over  a  12-year  period.  Here  is 
what  this  test  data  revealed: 

That  those  who  gargled  Listerine 
Antiseptic  twice  a  day  had  fewer  colds 
and  usually  had  milder  colds,  and 
fewer  sore  throats,  than  those  who  did 
not  gargle  with  Listerine  Antiseptic. 

This,  we  believe,  was  due  largely 
to  Listerine  Antiseptic's  ability  to 
attack  germs  on  mouth  and  throat 
surfaces. 

Gargle  Early  and  Often 

We  would  be  the  last  to  suggest 
that  a  Listerine  Antiseptic  gargle  is 
infallibly  a  means  of  arresting  an 
oncoming  cold. 

However,  a  Listerine  Antiseptic 
gargle  is  one  of  the  finest  precaution- 
ary aids  you  can  take.  Its  germ-kill- 
ing action  may  help  you  overcome 
the  infection  in  its  early  stages. 

Lambert  Pharmacal  Company 
St.  Louis,  Mo. 


AT  THE  FUST  SYMPTOM  LISTERINE  ANTISEPTIC 


John  Gambling  (r.)  congratulates  the  young  man  who  started  him  on  his  successful  career  in 
1925 — himself!     John  celebrates  the  24th  anniversary  of  his  Musical  Clock  on  March  8th. 


AJ.  HERALD 


John  conducts  a  two-hour  show 
interrupted  only  by  a  newscast. 


^^ 6 


THE  NAME  John  Gambling  probably  evokes 
more  nostalgic  memories  of  the  early  days  of 
radio  than  that  of  any  other  personality  still 
on  the  air.  To  three  generations  of  WOR  lis- 
teners his  voice  has  been  as  familiar  as  a  mem- 
ber of  the  family. 

Way  back  in  1925,  when  you  and  radio  were 
both  in  knee  pants,  John's  cheerful  voice 
thrilled  you  by  mentioning  your  birthday.  Down 
through  the  years  he  has  told  you  exactly  what 
time  it  was  each  morning  so  you  could  steal  that 
last  few  minutes  of  relaxation  between  the  cov- 
ers before   surrendering  to  a  demanding  day. 

Now,  after  twenty-four  years,  John  is  going 
stronger  than  ever.  Six  mornings  a  week  he 
conducts  a  full  two-hour  program  on  WOR  with 
only  a  news  broadcast  interrupting  to  give  him  a 
minute  to  catch  his  breath. 

John  starts  his  radio  day  at  6  A.M.  on  Ram- 
bling with  Gambling,  presenting  an  hour  of 
news,  weather  reports,  recorded  music  and 
cheerful  chatter.  After  a  fifteen  minute  inter- 
mission, he  returns  with  what  is  probably  the 
oldest  continuous  show  in  radio.  Gambling's 
Musical  Clock,  an  unpretentious  informal  ses- 


sion that  has  been  a  favorite  for  a  quarter  of  a, 
century. 

In  the  Twenties,  John  gave  listeners  involved 
setting  up  drills  in  which  he  described  every 
motion  of  each  exercise  and  gave  a  detailed 
rhythm  count.  One  day  he  decided  to  take  an 
informal  poll  and  discovered  that  he  was  the 
only  one  doing  the  exercises. 

Since  then,  John's  show  has  been  devoted  to 
cheerful  early  morning  chatter,  news,  time  sig- 
nals and  brief  musical  numbers  featuring  Vin- 
cent Sorey  and  his  orchestra.  "It's  probably  the 
only  'live'  orchestra  on  the  air  at  that  time," 
says  John,  "and  they're  only  half  alive." 

Gambling,  who  works  without  a  formal  script, 
simply  jots  down  the  jokes  he  intends  to  use  on 
the  broadcast  while  traveling  to  WOR  each 
morning.  And  he  never  worries  about  the  vint- 
age of  his  jokes.  "I  just  want  them  funny,"  says 
John.  "If  they  are  old,  many  people  haven't 
heard  them.  And  the  rest  have  forgotten  them." 

Jokes,  music,  cheerful  conversation  and  a 
friendly  manner — it's  a  successful  formula.  And 
one  that  for  twenty-four  years  has  sent  millions 
off  to  work  or  school  with  smiles  on  their  faces. 


.™r««KASBIGGESTBARGAlNBOOKaUB 


^^sk 


e  m 


Her  pyes  smoldered  as 
he  drew  near — From 
''Queen's     Physician" 


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THE  QUEEN'S  PH^- 
IIciAN  -  When  hand 
®'    I  m    Struensee  en- 

the  queen' 9  allmenii 

c»ri  E    IN   THE   SKY 

L*E^.hang   tale   of   how 
three       young       do"or3 

flrst-hand     dunng     the 
Revolutionary  War. 


TALES      FROM      THE 

Secameron   -  F^ 

raous  and  lusty  tales 
Tbout  the  amorous  an- 
firX  of  outraged  hus- 
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invers  of  sinning 
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THE  GOLDEN   HAWK 

-Adventure  .and  love 
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"here  a  yello«-ha"ed 
pirate  met  a  dazzling 
bandit-wench     no     man 


rlvo^rajlnto^the 
?,^"'  ^t?a\es-to    claim 

lAUE  EYRE— The  tale 
if  a  passionate  love 
affai?  between  a  sophis- 
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a      young      governess- 

house. 


EfiBY 


Uianca  IjacKed 
auay  in  terror — 
From  "The  Gold- 
en  Hawk." 


ANNIE    JORDAN— 

^ivid  story  of  a  girl 
wio'  fought  hard  or 
happiness-then  tossed 
it  all  away  for  the  omy 
love  she  could  NO  I 
have  I 

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ft 


^nk^ 


■ee 


^^ha 


CHAMfiTTE 

BRONTE 


\Briny'' 

\     Post-, 


r'«o^ 


liACHEL 

avenged 
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Miss 


City. 


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Zone  No. 
.(if   any) State. 


If  under  21, 

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SUohtly  Mgher  in  Canada,  Address  105  Bond  St..  Toronto  2 


WUXTRY, 


WUXTRY! 


At  Children's  Hospital  stars  like  Slim  Bryant    (1.)    and 
Bill  Hinds   (r.)   made  special  recordings  for  the  Appeal. 


BIGGEST  of  all  the  many  radio  benefits  sponsored  each 
year  by  KDKA  is  the  annual  Old  Newsboys'  campaign 
for  the  Pittsburgh  Children's  Hospital,  in  which  the 
World's  Pioneer  Station  cooperates  with  the  Pittsburgh 
Press,  originator  of  the  annual  charity. 

For  four  consecutive  Saturday  nights,  KDKA  turns  all  of 
its  facilities  over  to  the  newsboys'  campaign  for  all  night 
broadcasts  beginning  at  11: 15  P.M.  Outstanding  local  radio 
talent  and  well-known  stage  and  radio  stars  in  Pittsburgh 
during  the  drive,  entertain  for  the  hospital's  benefit. 

Pledges  to  the  fund  are  made  by  telephone  and  they 
come  in  during  the  night  from  practically  every  state  in 
the  union,  as  well  as  from  various  parts  of  Canada. 

Each  year  from  the  efforts  of  the  Press,  its  group  of  old 
newsboys  and  KDKA,  more  than  $100,000  is  turned  over 
to  the  hospital  so  that  any  youngster,  regardless  of  creed  or 
color,  may  get  the  best  of  treatment. 


Success!  Manager  Joseph  E. 
Baudino  proudly  exhibits 
some  of  the  money  collected 
for  the  Hospital  through  the 
efforts  of  KDKA  and  the  Old 
Newsboys'  campaign.  Right: 
KDKA's  model  kitchen  sup- 
plies food  for  the  volunteers. 


Compare  Toni  vnXYi  any  other  permanent — any  home  wave,  any  beauty 
shop  ivave—  and  you'll  find  there's  no,  finer  wave  ut  uni/  price! 


The  secret  of  lovelier  hair  is  yours— with 
a  Toni  Home  Permanent.  For  your  Toni 
wave  is  so  soft,  so  easy  to  manage,  so 
natural-looking  that  people  will  probably 
ask  if  you  have  naturally  curly  hair!  But 
before  trying  Toni  you'll  want  to  know : 

Will  TONI  work  on  my  hair? 

Of  course.  Toni  waves  any  kind  of  hair 
that  will  take  a  permanent,  including 
gray,  dyed,  bleached  or  baby-fine  hair. 

Is  it  easy  to  do? 

Amazingly  easy !  If  you  can  roll  your  hair 
on  curlers,  you  can  give  yourself  a  Toni. 
It's  so  surprisingly  simple  that  each 
month  another  two  million  women  use 
Toni  Home  Permanent. 

Whydomostv^omen  prefer  to  useTONI? 

Because  the  Toni  Waving  Lotion  is  not 
a  harsh,  hurry-up  salon  solution.  Instead 
it's  a  mild  creme  lotion— made  especially 


for  home  use.  So  gentle  it  just  coaxes 
your  hair  into  beautifully  soft  waves  and 
curls.  That's  why  your  Toni  wave  looks 
more  natural,  even  on  the  very  first  day. 

Will  my  TONI  wave  be  loose  or  tight? 

With  Toni,  you  can  have  just  the  amount 
of  curl  you  want  .  .  .  from  a  loose,  casual 
wave  to  a  halo  of  soft  ringlets. 

How  long  will  my  TONI  last? 

Your  lovely  Toni  wave  is  guaranteed  to 
last  just  as  long  as  a  $15  beauty  shop 
permanent  ...  or  your  money  back. 

How  much  will  I  save  with  TONI? 

The  Toni  Kit  with  plastic  curlers  costs 
only  $2.  You  can  use  the  plastic  curlers 
again  and  again.  So  for  your  second  Toni 
wave  all  you  need  is  the  Toni  Refill  Kit. 
It  costs  just  $1  .  .  .  yet  there  is  no  finer 
wave  at  any  price. 


Which  twin  has  the  TONI? 

Lovely  Frances  and  Bernadette  Hanson 
live  in  New  York  City.  Frances,  the  twin 
on  the  right,  has  the  Toni.  She  says:  "I 
want  a  permanent  that's  soft  and  natural- 
looking  right  from  the  start.  And  that's 
just  the  way  my  Toni  is!" 


NOWover^million  women  a  month  use  Toni 


Philadelphia's  famous  Ferko  String  Band  recorded  Woody's  own  number,  "Two  Timer."  Here  they  entertain  in  full  regalia. 


REBEL-HEARTED 


Elwood    (Wake-Up    Time)    Stutz 


10 


WIBG  in  Philadelphia  has  brought  out  something 
new  in  early  morning  radio  announcers.  He's 
Elwood  (Woody)  Stutz,  the  song-writing  disc 
jockey,  whose  Wake-Up  Time,  broadcast  from  5:30  to 
6:45  A.M.  Monday  through  Saturday,  has  startled 
staid  Philadelphians  right  out  of  bed. 

Stutz,  who  majored  in  music  in  college,  was  born  in 
Virginia  and  is  still  a  rebel  at  heart.  He  may  start  the 
morning  off  with  what  is  usual  procedure  at  most 
stations — playing  a  recording  of  the  national  anthem, 
but  he  announces  it  as  YOUR  national  anthem.  He 
then  follows  through  by  playing  "MY"  national  an- 
them, and  the  strains  of  Dixie  are  wafted  from  loud- 
speakers. 

His  listeners  are  the  most  loyal  to  be  found  in  radio. 
During  the  war  years,  he  merely  had  to  mention  that 
he  was  unable  to  buy  cigarettes  and  they  came  in  by 
the  carton.    He  kept  the  entire  station  well-supplied. 

When  the  station's  production  manager  wanted,  but 
was  unable  to  buy,  a  pair  of  purple  sox  to  match  a  tie 
and  kerchief  combination  he  had  purchased  in  a  weak 
moment,  Stutz  made  a  plea  for  same.  Listeners  trav- 
eled as  far  as  New  York,  after  exhausting  the  patience 


of  sock  department  clerks  all  over  Philadelphia,  in  an 
attempt  to  acquire  the  requested  haberdashery.  Ap- 
parently men's  hosiery  isn't  made  in  that  color,  be- 
cause none  could  be  purchased  anywhere.  Stutz's 
fans  didn't  let  him  down,  however.  Three  pairs  of 
white  SOX,  each  dyed  a  different  shade  of  the  required 
color,  arrived  in  the  mail  to  make  his  boss  happy. 

What  makes  said  boss  even  happier  is  the  way 
Stutz's  listeners  buy  the  things  his  sponsors  sell. 
Everything  from  costume  jewelry  to  correspondence 
courses  are  regularly  and  successfully  merchandised. 

Music  got  him  into  radio  in  Virginia,  after  which 
he  switched  to  announcing,  and  he  still  hasn't  decided 
which  should  be  his  full-time  career  work. 

Folks  who  hear  his  programs  insist  that  he  belongs 
at  a  mike  vocally,  but  those  of  you  who've  heard  "Two 
Timer,"  recorded  by  the  Ferko  String  Band,  "Rela- 
tives," and  "In  Martha's  Eyes"  (written  for  his  wife) 
which  Columbia  recorded  with  Nick  DeFrancis,  may 
think  otherwise. 

But  if  you're  in  range  of  Philadelphia,  listen  to  Stutz 
on  WIBG  anyway.  He  may  not  wake  you  up  happily, 
but — he'll  wake  you  up. 


;a/s:  RHONDA  FLEMING: 


Sheer  Excifemenf...  ifiafs  Ne^v  Woodbury  l^w^er !... 
If^Ves  skin  +he  mosf  fieavenly  Satin- Smooth  Look  ! '^ 


RHONDA  FLEMING 

David  O.  Selznick  actress 
co-starring  with  Bing  Crosby 
in  Para  mount's 

"A  GONNECTICUT  YANKEE" 
Color  by  Tech nico for 


7  Glow-of-Coior  Shades 

Medium  and"Purse"sizes  30<^  and  IS??. 
Large  "Dressing  Table"  size  $1.00. 
Prices  plus  tax. 


SEE  WHY  WOMEN  CHOSE 

WOODBURY 

OVER  ALL  LEADING  BRANDS! 

The  moment  you  try  New  Woodbury 
Powder  you'll  know  why  women  all  over 
the  country  preferred  it  to  their  own 
favorite  face  powders.*  FluflF  on 
Woodbury  and  instantly  your  skin  looks 
beautifully,  Satiny  smooth!  A  new, 
exclusive  ingredient  gives  this  flawless, 
Satin  finish . . .  covers  tiny  blemishes 
amazingly! 

No  powder  ever  gave  this  perfect  look 
before!  No  powder  had  such  cling  as 
this— your  skin  stays  lovely  hours  longer 
And  round  you,  like  a  spell,  the 
enchanting  new  Woodbury  fragrance. 


* 


In  a  Nation-wide  test 
Woodbury  won  by  the  tremendous 
average  of  4  to  1  over  all  other 
leading  brands  of  powder. 


New  lA/oodbur/  (wder 


R 
M 

11 


Oakley  Yale  of  WBEN  can  play  a  dozen  other 
instruments,    but    he    prefers    the    accordion. 


TWENTY-ONE  years  ago,  at  the  age  of  eleven,  Oakley 
Yale  won  a  grade  school  talent  contest  in  Minnesota.  As 
a  prize,  he  was  featured  on  a  piano  program  over  WCCO 
in  that  city.  Since  then,  the  WBEN  headliner  has  trouped 
in  vaudeville  and  appeared  on  television  and  radio  stations 
from  Coffeyville,  Kans.,  to  Yankton,  S.  D.  But  now  his 
standby  is  the  accordion — in  fact,  Oakley  is  one  of  the  best- 
known  accordion  players  in  the  U.  S.  and  is  president  of  the 
Accordion  Teachers  Guild  International. 

Oakley  was  born  in  Niagara  Falls  at  the  home  of  his 
grandparents  and  two  months  after  his  birth  he  was  off  on 
a  vaudeville  jaunt  with  his  mother  and  father  who  were 
known  professionally  as  Yale  and  Davis. 

When  "Oak"  and  his  brother  Paul  grew  up,  they  looked 
so  much  alike  that  they  were  billed  around  the  country 
as  the  Yale  twins.  At  various  times  they  joined  forces  with 
their  parents  and  were  billed  as  the  Yale  Family. 

Buffalo  knows  him  as  an  "in-person"  artist;  he  is  in  great 
demand  for  club  dates  for  his  trio  and  about  twice  a  year 
he  steps  out  as  a  concert  soloist  and  draws  crowds  to 
Buffalo's  new  and  modernistic  Kleinhans  Music  Hall.  His 
accordion  also  is  prominent  as  a  solo  instrument  on  the 
WBEN  Bandbox  Monday  through  Friday  evenings  at  7:30. 

Oakley  is  an  experienced  family  man  with  five  children 
but  he  still  is  a  trifle  confused  about  the  wailing  pro- 
clivities of  his  latest  offspring — twin  girls  born  last  summer. 
"I  can't  understand,"  he  muses  quizzically,  "how  one 
manages  to  start  screaming  just  as  the  other  stops."  In 
addition  to  the  girls,  he  has  three  scrappy  boys.  His  wife  is 
a  Kansas  girl  whom  he  married  in  Buffalo. 


* 


FROM  IITUE  ACORNS 


"Oak"  plays  with  this  trio — 
Tommy  Roy,  bass;  Stan  Zurek, 
clarinet — on  Early  Date  at 
Hengerer's,  mornings  at  9:15. 


12 


DOROTHY 


Amusement  Enterprises  presents 
BRIAN 


CLAlR^e. 


mm  mm  mm 


\im  mw  ■  BiLiy  vine  •  mmi  uuiki)  ■  nim  msime  mmw  ms  i  foster 


Screenploy  by  Lewis  R-  Foster 
Based  on  the  novel  by  Craig  Rice 
Released  thru  United  Artists 


It's  a  rollicking  mystery-comedy  based  on  the  popular  Craig  Rice  character  [and  we  do  mean"characier")Mr.  Mo/one 


R 

M 

13 


I 

M 

14 


UNREST 


Where  are  they  going  .  .  .  and  why? 

A  famous  columnist  points  out  possihle 


directions,  and  the  reasons  for  them 


By 

HARRIET  VAN  flORNE 

whose  column,  Radio  and  Television,  ap- 
pears daily  in  the  N.  Y.  World  Telegram. 


« 


I 


^1 


FRED  ALLEN  Plans  Retirement  from  Radio. 
Edgar  Bergen  Speaks  of  Quitting  Radio. 
Jolson  to  Leave  Radio  at  End  of  '49  Season. 

If  you're  a  reader  of  radio  news,  you've  recently 
seen  those  headlines  in  your  daily  papers,  and  per- 
haps you've  asked  yourself  what  they  mean,  what's 
behind  this  exodus  from  the  air. 

Where  are  they  going,  the  old  friends  we've  been 
listening  to  for  lo,  these  many  years?  Are  they 
going  to  become  the  new  familiar  faces  on  tele- 
vision? Or  have  Jolson  and  Allen  and  the  others 
simply  tired  of  us  before  we  tired  of  them?  Any- 
way, there  they  go — at  least,  they  say  they're  going 
— and  such  an  upheaval  in  America's  listening 
habits  bears  some  looking  into. 

The  first  time  I  met  Jack  Benny  I  was  a  little 
surprised  to  hear  myself  say,  "You  know,  I've  been 
listening  to  you  since  I  was  a  little  girl." 


THE    AIR 


Maybe  it  was  Charlie  and  Mortimer  who  influenced  Bergen's  final  decision  about  radio. 


It  was  no  idle  pleasantry.  I  have  been  listening 
to  Jack  for  seventeen  years.  So  have  you.  Giving  a 
faithful  ear  to  the  funny  men  of  radio  is  part  of 
growing  up  in  these  United  States.  Quotations 
from  radio  programs  are  always  accepted  as  con- 
versational currency.  Perhaps  that's  one  reason  the 
habit  stays  fixed  through  the  years.  That  and  the 
sentimental  attachment  one  acquires  to  anything — 
a  song,  a  custom,  an  idea — that  has  endured  since 
the  days  of  one's  youth. 

I  can't  even  remember  a  time  when  there  wasn't 
a  program  called  Amos  'n'  Andy.  I'm  sure  this  pair 
has  been  in  radio  as  long  as  the  vacuum  tube. 

It's  interesting  that  radio,  unlike  the  stage  and 
screen,  has  built  its  reputation  (and  its  fortiine) 
on  a  handful  of  stars.  And  short-sightedly,  radio 
has  skidded  along  on  the  happy  assumption  that 
these  stars  will  go  on  forever  and  ever.    Recent 


developments  indicate  that  such  isn't  necessarily  so. 
What  radio  is  facing  at  the  moment  is  the  most 
serious  crisis  of  its  twenty-eight-year  experience. 

For  radio's  reigning  favorites  are  growing  res- 
tive.   They  want  out. 

Who  will  replace  them?  Nobody.  At  least,  no- 
body the  eye  can  see  right  now.  Radio,  fat  and 
stuffy  with  years  of  success,  never  thought  to  have 
some  eager  young  understudies,  groomed  and 
waiting  in  the  wings.  The  result  probably  will  be 
a  spell  of  dull  listening  for  the  next  year  or  two — 
until  television  becomes  as  universal  as  the  old- 
fashioned,  one-dimensioned  radio. 

Just  consider  now,  what  personalities  has  your 
family  been  tuning  to  during  the  past  decade?  Jack 
Benny,  Al  Jolson,  Edgar  Bergen,  Fred  Allen,  to 
cite  a  few  of  Mr.  Hooper's  ranking  players.  Of 
those  four,  Bergen  has    (Continued  on  page  103) 


15 


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16 


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SKIRT— Smartly  Tailored,  the  new  Slim  Skirt, 

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COLORS:  Black, Green,  Blue,  Gray,  Brown. 

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MONEY    BACK    GUARANTEE 


m^ic 


The  Duke's  disc  show,  carried  by 
Casper,  Wyo.;   CKLW,  Detroit, 


SOME  of  the  best  news  we've  heard 
in  many  a  chche'd  moon  came 
with  the  announcement  that  Benny- 
Goodman  was  again  in  front  of  a  new 
band.  Since  then,  we've  heard  that 
band — and  it's  wonderful!  It's  a  big 
band,  a  modern  band  and  a  show  band. 
Playing  everything  from  be-bop  to 
waltzes.  Benny  and  his  boys  will  make 
the  customers  happy  any  time  and  any 

place. 

*         *         * 

Here's  some  more  good  news — ^Kitty 
Kallen,  who  retired  about  a  year  ago 
to  await  the  arrival  of  her  son,  Jon- 
athan, has  now  returned  to  the  mu- 
sical scene  via  radio,  night  clubs,  tele- 
vision and  some  brand  new  Mercury 
recordings  that  should  put  her  right 
up  on  top  again — where  she  most  cer- 
tainly belongs. 


Lionel  Hampton,  always  a  fine  show- 
man, is  really  at  his  best  on  his  Sat- 
urday noontime  Mutual  program.  He 
puts  the  talent  contestants  completely 
at  ease,  enabling  them  to  give  their 
best,  and  each  program  produces  a 
celebrity  with  some  unusual  story  or 
little-known  talent  in  diverse  fields. 


If  you're  one  of  the  many  who've 
been  confused  by  the  shifting  of  pro- 
grams from  one  network  to  another 
and  from  one  time  to  another  time, 
then  we  have  a  complaint  in  commion! 
We  spent  a  rainy  Sunday  twisting  a 
dial  for  the  Jane  Froman  show  only 
to  find  that  her  Pause  That  Refreshes 
program  is  now  heard  on  CBS  each  Fri- 
day night.  Mr.  Hooper,  please  note  too! 


WMCA,  is  also  heard  on  KVOC, 
Mich.;   WHAM,  Memphis,  Tenn. 


There   are   many   of   us   Jane   Froman 
fans. 

*         *         * 

Be-Bop  record  collectors  have  been 
writing  us  about  the  Charlie  Ventura 
group.  They  were  right,  Charlie's  lat- 
est platters  are  in  the  "great"  classifi- 
cation. The  uninitiated  will  want  to 
know  that  Ventura  is  now  recording  for 
RCA  Victor — and,  by  the  way,  so  are 
Fran  Warren  and  Lucky  Millinder. 


Even  blase  Hollywood  was  surprised 
when  it  was  revealed  that  Meredith 
Willson  is  writing  the  conmiercials  on 
his  Wednesday  revue.  That  makes  him 
the  only  network  star  in  the  business 
doing  the  sales  copy  for  his  programs. 
The  main  reason  is  that  his  commercials 
are  entertainment. 


Vaudeville  is  opening  up  on  the  West 
Coast,  surprisingly  spurred  by  tele- 
vision. The  Fox  West  Coast  Theaters 
are  hoping  to  lure  some  of  radio's  top 
names  into  a  series  of  one-nighters  and 
split  weeks  between  their  air  show 
dates. 


An  unusual  sport  shirt  for  boys  will 
be  on  the  market  soon,  featuring  many 
of  the  prominent  bandleaders  in  the 
country.  The  shirt  will  have  reproduc- 
tions of  the  faces  of  Sammy  Kaye,  Guy 
Lombardo,  Benny  Goodman,  Gene 
Krupa,  Woody  Herman  and  Tex 
Beneke. 


BY  DUKE  ELLINGTON 


.'dream  9'''''^'^^'""  9'''' 
Beautiful  Lustre-Creme  Girl 
•  hair  that  gleams  and  glisfen* 
^'^om  a  Lustre  Creme  shampoo 


lonimt ! . .  5lxow  liini  now  rauck  lovelier 
jour  Jxair  can  look . . .  after  a  \(A^t'Qi£^C  S^^l^^OO 


NOT  A  SOAP! 

NOT  A  LIQUID! 

BUT  KAY   DAUMIT'S 

RICH   LATHERING 

CREAM   SHAMPOO 

WITH   LANOLIN 


for  Soft,  Shimmering 
Glamorous  Hair 


4-02.  iar  $1;  smaller  jars  and 
tubes,  A9t  ond  250 — Kay  Daumit,  Inc. 
919  N.  Michigan  Avenue,  Chicago,  lit. 


No   other   shampoo   gives   you   the   same   magical   secret- 
blend  lather  plus  kindly  LANOLIN  .  .  .  for  true  hair  beauty. 

Tonight  he  can  SEE  new  sheen  in  your  hair,  FEEL  its  caressable  softness, 
THRILL  to  its  glorious  natural  beauty.  Yes,  tonight... i{  you  use  Lustre- 
Creme  Shampoo  today!  It's  Kay  Daumit's  exclusive  blend  of  secret 
ingredients  plus  gentle  lanolin. 

This  glamorizing  shampoo  lathers  in  hardest  water.  Leaves  hair  fra- 
grantly clean,  shining,  free  of  loose  dandruff  and  so  soft,  so  manageable! 

Famous  hairdressers  use  and  recommend  it  for  shimmering  beautv 
in  all  "hair-dos"  and  permanents.  Beauty-wise  women  made  it  America's 
favorite  cream  shampoo.  Try  Lustre-Creme!  The  man  in  your  life — 
■' — will  love  the  loveliness  results  in  your  hair. 


'(yta  sinxp£y  ama^ihxo. 


/ 


// 


/^Oyn. 


AS  EASY  TO  USE 
AS  YOUR  LIPSTICK 


A  few  light  strokes  of 
Pan-Stik... smoothed  with 
your  fingertips.. .a  new, 
lovelier  complexion. 


Quicker...  easier...  con- 
venient for  any  unex- 
pected make-up  need. 

"My  skin  feels  soft,  smooth, 
natural,  refreshed;  never 
drawn,  tight  or  dry. ' ' 

"It  covers  blemishes,  makes 
my  skin  look  more  youthful 
and  stays  fresh-looking  from 
morning  to  night. ' ' 

'  'It's  so  easy  to  apply,  goes  on 
smoothly  and  evenly,  never 
becomes  greasy,  streaky  or 
shiny. ' ' 


Max  Factor^ s  New 
Cream -Type  Make -Up 
in  the  smart  swivel- stick 


j^S*F 


CO-STARRING    IN    M  E  T  R  O- G  O  L  D  W  Y  N  ■  M  AY  E  R  '  S 


"WORDS  AND  MUSIC" 


*  Pan-Stik  (trademark)  means 
Max  Factor  Hollywood  Cream-Type  Make-Up 


Only  Hollywood's  Make-Up  Genius  could  bring 

you  a  make-up  like  Pan-Stik.  In  an  instant  it 
creates  a  new,  delicately  soft  complexion.  Your  skin 

looks  flawless,  fascinatingly  beautiful. . .  feels 
gloriously  natural . . .  even  refreshed.  Pan-Stik  takes 

only  seconds  to  apply. . .  yet  lasts  for  hours 
without  retouching.  The  new  revolutionary  swivel- 
stick  means  quicker,  easier  application. 
$  1  50  Pan-Stik  is  convenience  itself. . .  it's  all  you've 

1  dreamed  of  m  a  make-up. .  ."It's  simply  amazing! " 


IN   FIVE  COLOR   HARMONY  SHADES 
AND  TWO  EXCITING  SUN  TAN  SHADES 


Complete  your  make-up  in  Color  Harmony  for  your  type 

'  7  believe  that  cosmetic  color  harmony  is  the  most  important  single  feature  in  accentuating  beauty  and  charm.  ' 

MAX     FACTOR  *   HOLLYWOOD 


,i,jai»rt»**' 


FACE  POWDER. ..creates  a  sati 
smooth  make-up... in  Colo 
Harmonyshades  foryourtype 
...the  finishing  touch. 


in         f 
or         M 


ROUGE. ..to  harmonize  with 
your  Lipstick... correct  for 
your  type... adds  color,  and 
accents  your  beauty. 


LIPSTICK.. .3flatteringshades  for 

/  yourtype:  Clear  Red, BlueRed,- 
Rose  Red.  Correct  foryour  col- 
oring, correct  for  your  costume. 


Peggy  Knudsen  frames 
her  honey-blonde  color- 
ing with  the  new  "cover 
scarf,"  which  features 
Radio     Mirror's     name. 


&m^'tmJ)'Uyxm 


FOLLOWING  her  graduation  from  the  Duluth,  Minnesota,  high 
school,  Peggy  Knudsen's  parents  gave  her  a  train  ticket,  pocket 
money,  and  their  blessing,  so  that  she  could  come  to  New  York  and 
seek  fulfillment  of  her  stage  ambitions.  Peggy's  success  came  surpris- 
ingly soon.  With  characteristic  modesty,  she  says  that  it  was  just  the 
good  luck  of  being  in.  the  right  place  at  the  right  time. 

But  a  bright  girl  like  Peggy  realizes  that  luck  can  be  attracted.  For 
instance,  if  she  had  relied  solely  on  her  dramatic  talents,  and  not  made 
the  most  of  her  good  looks,  she  might  never  have  been  noticed  by  a 
Broadway  talent  scout  at  the  Stage  Door  Canteen.  As  the  result  of 
his  notice,  she  was  soon  playing  the  lead  in  a  hit  play.  Not  only  be- 
cause of  her  talent,  but  because  of  her  prettiness,  too,  she  was  off  to 
Hollywood  with  a  long  term  contract  in  her  purse.  Of  course,  radio 
also  claimed  her.  Dial  twisters  hear  her  on  the  air  as  Lois  Graves, 
older  sister  on  CBS's  Junior  Miss  program. 

Although  you  may  not  have  Peggy's  ambitions  to  become  an  actress, 
surely  you're  ambitious  to  be  as  beautiful  as  possible.  And  there's  no 
better  way  to  start  than  with  good  winter  care.  In  cold  weather,  you 
know,  your  skin  chaps  easily.  Even  though  you  give  it  frantic,  last- 
minute  creaming  and  lotioning  before  donning  a  revealing  dance  frock, 
your  arms  and  shoulders  won't  be  so  soft  and  white  and  lovely  as  they 
could  be,  if  they  had  received  daily  lubrication. 

First  of  all,  Peggy  gives  soap  and  water  top  billing  in  the  care  of  her 
skin.  After  a  thorough,  all-over  scrubbing  in  the  tub,  she  dries  herself 
well  with  a  Turkish  towel,  and  uses  its  roughness  to  massage  a  glow 
and  a  tingle  to  her  skin.  Next,  she  slathers  lots  of  hand  cream  or  lotion 
on  her  legs,  ankles,  feet,  arms,  hands,  chest,  and  neck,  and  massages  it 
until  dry. 

Before  retiring,  she  carefully  cleanses  off  all  make-up.  After  this 
preliminary  step,  Peggy  then  massages  an  emollient  cream,  oil,  or 
lotion  on  her  face  and  neck — even  to  "way  down  to  here"  on  her  chest, 
then  wipes  off  the  excess  with  facial  tissues. 

A  foundation  cream  or  lotion,  applied  beneath  make-up,  or  a  creamy 
cake  make-up,  also  helps  to  protect  your  skin,  she  says,  in  the  chill 
outdoors,  or  in  drying,  steam-heated  temperatures  indoors. 

By  following  these  few  simple  procedures  for  winter  skin  care,  when 
you,  too,  don  your  pretty  dance  frock,  you  should  look  as  lovely  in  it 
as  Peggy  does  in  hers. 


RADIO     MIRROR     f  o  i*     BETTER     LIVING 


Your  loveliness 
Is  Doubly  Safe 


'mo(JO' 


Veto  gives  you 
Double  Protection! 


<^o^  ^e^^^c^u^ , 


.  Veto  guards  your 
loveliness  night  and  daj; — safely  protects 
your  clothes  and  you.  For  Veto  not  only 
neutralizes  perspiration  odor,  it  checks  per- 
spiration, too !  Yes,  Veto  gives  you  Double 
Protection !  And  Veto  disappears  instantly  to 
protect  you  from  the  moment  you  apply  it! 

(f^^m^  ,  _  ^  Always  creamy  and 
smooth.  Veto  is  lovely  to  use  and  keeps  you 
lovely.  And  Veto  is  gentle,  safe  for  normal 
skin,  safe  for  clothes.  Doubly  Safe!  Veto 
alone  contains  Duratex,  Colgate's  exclusive 
ingredient  to  make  Veto  safer.  Let  Veto 
give  your  loveliness   double    protection! 

Veto  lasts  and  Masts 

irown  bath  to  bath  I 


19 


M 


[A  PERKINS  has  been  on  the  air  a  matter  of 
fifteen  years,  and  when  that  anniversary 
came  round  recently  it  didn't  go  unnoticed. 
Ma  and  the  rest  of  the  cast  were  guests  of  honor 
at  a  big  old-time  party  at  New  York's  Old  Klnick 
Music  Hall.  It  was  a  party  anyone  in  Rushville 
Center,  Ma's  home  town,  would  have  loved.  Square 
dancing,  sack  races,  a  loud,  fast  auction— all  the 
trimmings— made  a  big  evening  for  the  guests, 
many  of  whom  were  members  of  other  radio  day- 
time drama  casts,  all  suitably  costumed  or  identi- 
fied so  that  they  could  greet  one  another  like 
convention-goers,  by  first  names.  And  when  didn't 
sawdust  on  the  floor  and  a  good  loud  "caller"  for 
the   square   dancing   add   up   to    a    good   party — 

whether  in  New  York  or  in  Rushville  Center? 

*     *     * 

One  thing  always  ties  in  with  the  other.  Now,  it 


is  said  that  the  reduction  in  the  numbers  of  pic- 
tures being  made  in  Hollywood  is  responsible  for 
cutting  the  prices  on  radio  guest  star  appearances. 
Even  with  the  lower  prices,  coast  stars  are  com- 
peting for  guest  shots  in  order  to  keep  their  names 
before  the  public.  And  there's  a  vicious  circle 
quality  about  all  this — as  long  as  they  keep  com- 
peting, the  prices  are  going  to  stay  low  and  go 
lower. 

*     *     * 

Producers  of  the  Junior  Miss  program  are  find- 
ing that  teen-age  type  actresses  are  subject  to  spe- 
cial hazards.  Twice  in  recent  months,  Beverly 
Wills  has  turned  up  at  the  studio  with  a  fractured 
finger.  The  first  time  she  broke  a  finger  while 
playing  volley  ball  at  Los  Angeles  Emerson  Jun- 
ior High.  The  second  time  it  was  basketball  that 
did  the  dirty  work.  (Continued  on  page  22) 


By  DALE  BANKS 


Part  of  the  fun  at  the  big 
party  for  Ma  Perkins*  15th 
birthday  was  the  entertain- 
ment contest  in  which  pro- 
gram casts  competed.  The 
Ma  Perkins  cast  gave  a  good 
imitation    of    a    glee    club. 


The  Old  Knickerbocker  Masic  Hall,  in  N.  Y.  C^  was 
decorated  with  Rushville  Center  scenes  for  Ma  Per- 
kins' party.   Calf  was  biggest  of  many  gifts  Ma  got. 


One  of  the  big  events  was  a  sack  race,  but  sitting  it 
out  gave  Wendy  (Florence  Freeman)  and  Mother 
Young    (Marion  Barney)    time  to  gossip  with  Ma. 


I 


New  friends — Loma  Lynn,  who  plays  Barbara  Dennis 
in  one  of  radio's  newer  dramas.  The  Brighter  Day, 
learned  that  Dr.  Malone's  dog  is  really  Donald  Bain. 


Old  friends — Papa  David,  of  Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
(Ralph  Locke),  claiming  his  rights  as  fellow  radio 
veteran,   captured    Ma   for    the    first    square    dance. 


The  pro(n"ani  Ma  Perking  is  heard  Monday  throiiiKh  Friday 
at    S:15    P.M.    «ST    on    NBC.    1:15    I'.M.    KST    on    TBS. 


^21 


SAUOfi/'SMART  fOR,  £l/eRYH^O 

Here's  the  home  permanent  that  even  women  with  "hard-to-wave" 

hair  can  give  themselves  with  real  confidence  of  salon-type  results !  • 

For  with  the  new,  improved  Richard  Hudnut  Home  Permanent, 

you  use  the  same  sort  of  preparations... even  the  same 
improved  cold  wave  process  found  best  for  waving 

thousands  of  heads  in  the  Richard  Hudnut  Fifth  Avenue  Salon ! 

No  fear  of  harsh,  frizzed  ends,  thanks  to  the  gentler, 

cream  waving  lotion.  No  worry  about  being  able  to  do  a 
good  job.  Ij  you  can  roll  your  hair  on  curlers,  you'll  manage  beautifully! 

There  isn't  a  lovelier,  more  luxurious,  softer  home  wave 
for  any  head!  Price,  $2.75;  refill  without  rods,  $1.50. 
(All  prices  plus  30^  Federal  Tax.) 

OmY^fCHARi?  HaOMOTHAS  AU  7  / 

1.  Saves  up  to  one-half  usual  waving  time. 

2.  Waving  lotion  more  penetrating,  but  gentlerl 
Ample  for  complete  coverage,  including  spe- 
cial Hudnut  pre-softening. 

3.  Longer,  stronger  end-papers  moke  hair  tips 
easier  to  handle. 

4.  Double-strength  neutralizer  anchors  wave 
faster,  makes  curl  stronger  for  longer. 

5.  Improved  technique  gives  deep,  soft  crown 
wave... non-frizzy  ends. 

6.  Only  home  permanent  kit  to  include  Richard 
Hudnut  Creme  Rinse— famous  for  recondition- 
ing and  lustre-giving. 

7.  Two  lengths  of  rods.  Standard  size  for  ringlet 
ends;  extra-long  for  deep  crown  waves. 

Aixtptcdfor  Advertising  by  the  Journal  of  the  American  Medical  Association, 


K 


Honjc  Permanent' 


R 

M 

22 


COAST  to   COAST 

(Continued  from  page  21) 

Gloria  Breneman,  20-year-old  daugh- 
ter of  the  late  Tom  Breneman  is  set- 
ting out  on  a  radio  and  stage  career 
of  her  ow^n,  novi^.  The  nice  touch  is  that 
she  w^as  given  her  first  netwrork  break 
by  one  of  her  daddy's  friendly  rivals, 
Don  McNeill  of  Breakfast  Club  fame. 

*  *         * 

Ted  Collins  has  received  an  offer 
from  a  leading  publisher  to  write  a 
book  on  his  experiences  in  the  enter- 
tainment world.  It  should  make  an  ex- 
citing book,  if  he  writes  it,  since  Collins 
is  one  of  the  most  colorful  men  in 
show  business. 

Bill  Lawrence,  director  of  Screen 
Guild  Players,  has  been  given  the  signal 
honor  of  directing  the  annual  Academy 
Awards  broadcast  over  ABC,  March 
24th.  George  Jessel  has  been  appointed 
master  of  ceremonies  and  the  broadcast 
will  be  either  an  hour,  or  an  hour  and 
a  half   in  length. 

+        *         * 

Look  for  Dick  Powell  to  be  back  on 
the  air  soon,  if  he  isn't  already  a  regular 
by  the  time  this  appears.  CBS  is  work- 
ing on  a  new  dramatic  series  for  Powell. 

Although  sponsors  have  dropped  the 
Date  With  Judy  program,  they've  re- 
tained the  services  of  that  show's  di- 
rector, Helen  Mack,  who  now  produces 
the  Alan  Young  show,  which  took  up 
the  time  slot — and  sponsor — of  the  , 
"Judy"  stanza.  Miss  Mack  is  one  of 
the  few  lady  producers  in  radio. 

*  *         * 

Lucille  Fletcher's  "Sorry,  Wrong 
Number,"  the  radio  masterpiece  which 
has  been  made  into  a  movie  and  has 
been  repeated  eleven  times  on  the  air 
since  it  was  first  written,  will  probably 
become  a  once-a-year  fixture  on  the 
Suspense  program.  Agnes  Moorehead, 
whose  superb  acting-  has  done  much  to 
make  the  success  of  the  half-hour  play, 
has  recently  asked  the  Decca  company 
to  take  some  legal  action  to  prevent 
disc  jockeys  from  playing  her  album 
version  of  the  play,  a  move  we  can 
understand,  since  she  gets  nothing  for 
these  extra  performances  and  they 
can  cut  into  her  earnings  by  killing 
interest  in  the  show. 

Don  Ameche's  new  air  contract  will 
keep  him  from  making  a  movie  for  at 
least  a  year.  The  new  deal  calls  for 
Don  to  headline  the  radio  show  five 
half  hours  a  week.  With  rehearsals  and 
preparation  that  -  takes  up  too  much 
time  to  allow  for  the  rigid  schedules 
of  movie  work. 

GOSSIP  AND  STUFF  FROM  ALL  I 
OVER  .  .  .  The  Lone  Ranger  is  due  for 
filming  and  telecasting  as  a  half  hour 
video  show  sometime  in  March  .  . 
Radio  Actress  Anne  Seymour  will  play 
a  leading  role  in  the  motion  picture, 
"All  The  King's  Men"  .  .  .  Larry  Adler 
has  signed  a  five-year  contract  to  star 
in  pictures  and  telefilms  .  .  .  Clark 
Dennis  may  portray  John  McCor- 
mack,  the  great  Irish  tenor,  in  the 
forthcoming  film  based  on  his  career 
.  .  .  Jeff  Corey  signed  to  play  a  key 
role  in  Republic's  "Hide-Out"  .  .  . 
Count  Basic  and  •  Pearl  Bailey  have 
been  signed  for  theater  appearances 
together  .  .  .  Jack  Bailey  has  turned 
author,  his  book  "What's  Cookin'  "  now 
available  in  the  stores  .  .  .  and  that's 
enough  of  this  stuff  for  now.  Happy 
listening  .  .  .  and  remember,  the  stars 
and  networks  like  to  hear  from  you. 


^U-Itknltof 

WAITER  WINCHELL 


There's  no  middle  course — either  you  love  Winchell  or  you  hate  him! 


Radio  Mirror  sent  a  reporter  and  a  photographer  out  to  ask  people,  chosen  at  random,  how 
they  felt  about  Walter  Winchell — a  man  who  is  heard  and  discussed  and  judged  by  every- 
one. Here  are  some  of  the  answers  to  the  reporter's      questions.   Others  are  found  on  page  99. 


'^^S'j 


Connie  Haines 

Singing  Star 

New  Yorl<  City 


other  people   may 


"Whensome- 
thing  is 
wrong,  Win- 
chell comes 
out  with  it 
and  tries  to 
get  some- 
thing done. 
He'll  stick 
his  neck  out 
on  issues  that 
disagree   on. 


Tve  listened  to  him  and  admired 
his  dynamic,  frank  opinions.  Al- 
though I  don't  always  agree,  I 
believe  in  his  integrity.  Winchell 
can't  be  praised  too  much  for  the 
boost  he's  given  to  talent  that 
would  otherwise  have  remained 
anonymous.." 


Joe  E.  Brown 

Star  Comedian 

Hollywood,  Calif. 


"Walter 
Winchell  is 
nosey  and 
newsy.  H  e 
not  only 
finds  head- 
lines  but 
makes  them. 
I've  known 
him  over 
thirty  years, 
and  even  back  then  his  person- 
ality and  writing  were  dynamic. 
His  ideas  are  good  but  not  neces- 
sarily unbiased  because  of  his 
zealousness.  A  person  with  so 
much  power  should  always  re- 
member his  responsibilities.  It  is 
not  right  to  allow  personal  feel- 
ings to  enter  into  news  reports." 


Barbara  Jane  Ault 
Real  Estate  Sales 
Spokane,  Wash, 


"I  don't 
much  care 
for  Walter 
Winchell,  al- 
though I've 
been  listen- 
ing to  him 
for  three 
years,  be- 
cause he 
seems  to  be  a 
bit  malicious  and  deals  too  much 
in  high  class  gossip  to  suit  my 
tastes.  I  don't  think  he's  helping 
us  to  keep  the  peace  with  Russia. 
He's  too  much  of  an  alarmist.  He 
wields  great  power  and  it's  too 
bad  that  a  man  with  his  influence 
doesn't  use  it  to  promote  more 
good  will." 


Marjorie  Cur  bone 
Housewife,  Mother 
Astoria,  Long  Is  and 


"Winchell  is 
not  only  a 
good  re- 
porter— his 
ability  for 
sho  wm  an- 
ship  is  excit- 
i  n  g  and 
tends  to 
make  every 
piece  of 
news  a  short  drama.  When  Win- 
chell first  comes  out  with  some 
startling  news  people  are  first 
inclined  to  doubt  it  but  he  al- 
ways substantiates  it.  I  like  his 
direct  way  of  presentation  and 
if  he  is  wrong,  he's  not  afraid  to 
admit  it.  I've  been  listening  to 
him  for  five  years." 


Arthur  Chodosh 

Attorney 
Bronx,  New  York 


"Given  all 
the  facts,  the 
Am  e  ric  an 
people  will 
do  the  right 
thing.  Wal- 
ter Winchell 
is  a  guiding 
force  in  giv- 
i  n  g  the 
people  all 
the  facts  in  matters  in  which 
they  are  vitally  interested.  His 
vast  audience  is  a  tribute  to  his 
fearlessness,  sincerity  and  zeal. 
He  sometimes  steps  on  the  toes 
of  people  in  high  places — but 
even  his  detractors  cannot  doubt 
his  sincerity  as  a  champion  of 
our  way  of  life." 


Sarah  B,  Jackson 
Supervisor  of  Nurses 
Louisville,  Kentucky 


"I'm  crazy 
about  Walter 
Winchell's 
voice  and  the 
staccato  de- 
livery of  his 
remarks.  For 
five  years 
I've  tuned 
Winchell  in 
re  g  u  1  arly 
each  Sunday  night — I  always  lis- 
ten because  I  think  he  is  both 
dramatic  and  honest.  I  love  to 
hear  his  news  scoops  and  also  his 
interesting  personal  items.  And 
one  of  the  things  I  appreciate 
most  of  all  is  the  brevity  with 
which  he  presents  his  news 
items." 


L 


WHAT  DO  YOU  THINK  OF  WALTER  WINCHELL?     TURN  TO  NEXT  PAGE 


R 

M 

23 


WHAT  DO 


You've  told  your  friends 


and  family  how  you  feel 


about  Winchell — now  tell 


Radio  Mirror.  Your  opinion 


may  win  a  valuable  prize! 


What  does  a  Winchell  broadcast  (Sun- 
day nights  at  9  EST,  ABC)  leave  you 
thinking  .  .  .  about  Winchell?  What  you 
have  to  say  may  win  the  new  1949 
Kaiser  sedan,  or  another  valuable  prize. 


THiKK  OF  WALTER  WIN  C 


? 


WALTER  WINCHELL  isn't  the  kind  of  man,  nor 
is  his  radio  program  the  kind  of  program,  that 
you  can  "take  or  leave  alone."  He  is  one  of  the 
best-known,  most  thought-about  and  talked-about 
men  in  the  country.  Everywhere,  Monday  morning 
conversations  begin,  "Did  you  hear  WincheU  last 
night?  Now  here's  what  I  think — "  Everyone  lis- 
tens to  him,  everyone — agreeing  or  disagreeing — 
talks  about  him. 
You,  too,  have  doubtless  spoken  your  mind  about 
'  him  to  your  friends  or  your  family.  Now,  here's  a 
chance  to  win  a  wonderful  prize  for  your  opinion 
of  Walter  WincheU  simply  by  putting  down  on  paper 
the  things  you've  said  and  thought  and  felt  about 
him,  and  sending  that  statement  to  Radio  Mirror. 
The  editors  of  Radio  Mirror  will  give,  to  the  per- 
son whose  statement  they  consider  the  most  inter- 
esting   and    original,    a    brand    new    1949    Kaiser 


automobile,  just  like  the  one  pictured  below. 
There  will  be  other  prizes,  too — five  dollars  to  the 
writer  of  each  of  the  forty  next-best  statements. 

Write  clearly,  on  one  side  of  the  paper  only.  Put 
down  exactly  what  you  think,  exactly  how  you  feel 
about  Walter  WincheU,  in  seventy-five  words  or 
less.  Fill  out  the  entry  blank  below,  attach  it  to 
your  statement,  and  mail  both  statement  and  blank 
to  WincheU  Contest,  Radio  Mirror  Magazine,  205 
East  42nd  Street,  New  York  17,  N.  Y.  Send  as  many 
statements  as  you  like,  but  each  one  must  have  an 
entry  blank  attached. 

Radio  Mirror  editors  wUl  be  judges  and  their  de- 
cision will  be  final.  Your  letter  must  be  postmarked 
not  later  than  midnight,  March  1,  to  be  considered. 
No  entries  wiU  be  returned.  Winners  will  be  noti- 
fied by  mail,  and  a  complete  list  of  winners  wiU 
appear  in  the  June,  1949,  issue  of  Radio  Mirror. 


HERE  IS  MY  STATEMENT.  IN  75  WORDS  OR  LESS,  ANSWERING  THE  QUESTION,  "WHAT  DO  YOU 
THINK  OF  WALTER  WINCHELL?" 


MY  NAME  IS 

MY  ADDRESS   IS ZONE. 

CITY '..'. STATE 


I  undersl-and  that  the  prize  win- 
ners will  be  chosen  by  the 
editors  of  Radio  Mirror,  and 
that  their  decision  will  be  final, 
and  that  my  entry  will  not  be 
returned  to  me.  My  statement 
is  attached   to  this  entry  blank. 

(Mall  your  statement,  with  this 
blank  attached,  to  WincheU 
Contest,  Radio  Mirror  Maga- 
zine, 205  East  42nd  Street,  New 
York  17,  New  York.  You  may 
submit  more  than  one  entry,  but 
each  must  be  accompanied  by 
an  entry  blank.) 


25 


i 


owjum 


it  AMOS 


Meet  Freeman  Gosden,  the  younger  half  of  radio's   oldest  team 


By  ALICE  CRAIG  GREENE 


Jane's  practically  a  bride:  the  Gosdens  married  four  years  ago. 


26 


TO  millions  of  American  radio  listeners,  the  King- 
iish,  Amos  and  Lightnin'  live  in  New  York  City's 

Harlem.  Actually  the  three  are  one  person,  and 
they  live — tmder  the  name  of  Freeman  Gosden — in 
a  beautiful  white  house  on  a  winding  street  in  Bever- 
ly Hills,  California. 

The  younger — and  Amos-Kingfish-Lightnin' — half 
of  the  most  famous  pair  on  radio,  the  program  that 
began  America's  "listening  habit,"  is  probably  as 
little  known  physically  to  his  public  as  he  is  well- 
known  audibly.  Neither  Gosden  nor  Charhe  Con-ell, 
who  plays  Andy,  would  be  any  kind  of  a  subject  for 
a  "Mr.  Hush"  contest,  where  they'd  have  to  depend 
on  their  voices  for  disguise.  Because  for  a  quarter 
of  a  century  now,  those  voices  have  been  well-known 
to  a  dehghted  listening  audience. 

But  since  you  covdd  pass  either  of  them  on  the 
streets  and  probably  not  know  them,  a  physical  de- 
scription may  be  in  order.  Nervous,  articulate,  witty, 
gum-chewing  Freeman  Gosden,  at  49,  has  the  con- 
fident manner  of  the  arrived  guy  who  has  come  up 
from  scratch.  His  reddish  hair  is  growing  a  trifle 
sparse,  his  reddish  eyebrows  beetle  over  restless 
curious  eyes.  Very  friendly,  his  enthusiasms  rush 
off  with  him  physically  as  well  as  mentally.  When  he 
opens  his  mouth  to  let  that  southern  accent  pour 
out  with  a  story,  it's  ten  to  one  he'll  be  up  walking 
through  it,  and  acting  it  out,  before  he's  through.  He's 
definitely  the  kind  of  a  guy  you'd  like  to  have  at  your 
party. 

A  confirmed  worrier,  Gosden  worries  to  make  each 
show  better  than  last  week's.  Yet  he's  also  good- 
natured,  and  optimistic.  He  never  has  wanted  to  allow 
himself  to  build  up  things  for  a  let-down.  This  frame 
of  mind  has  induced  success.  In  their  entire  career, 
the  boys  have  never  had  a  serious  let-down.  Even  in 
the  depths  of  the  depression,  they  had  some  of  their 
very  best  times  financially. 

Freeman  lives  in  that  house  in  Beverly  Hills  with 
a  very  lovely  girl  named  Jane,  whom  he  married 
four  years  ago. 

"We  met  at  a  party  here  in  town,"  Freeman  tells  it. 
"A  dinner  at  a  friend's  house  in  Hollywood.  She  and 
her  brother  were  there.  All  I  could  see  was  this  small 
(about  five  feet  two),  pretty  girl  with  the  fine 
features  and  the  honey  blonde  hair  and  the  very, 
very  blue  eyes.  But  I'd  caught  the  fact  that  both 
these  kids  had  the  last  name  of  Stoneham,  and  for  a 
minute  I  was  afraid  they   (Continued  on  page  89) 


TO   VISIT   ANDY 

TURN  TO  NEXT  PAGE 


;^11M 


Freeman  Jr.  and  Virginia,  children   of  Freeman's   first  marriage,  are   away  at   school,  but  their   portraits   join   the   family   circle. 


Ereeman's  the  worrying  type,  and  Jane  sees  it  as  part  of  her  job  to 
|eep  his  at-home  hours  peacefully  piesisant.  Art  is  a  mutual  hobby; 
bat's    their    prized    Grandma    Moses    painting    on    the    wall,    above. 


omuQ/Yi 


Mit  ANDY 


Off-duty,  Charlie  Correll  doesn't 

paint  of  putter.    His  hobby  is  the  most 

rewarding  in  the  world:  his  family 


Correll's  Kid   Camp  in  action:   Jack,   Dick,  Barbara,   Charlie   Jr.,Dorothj^ 

Amos  'n^  Andy  is  heard  Sunday  nights  at  7:30  EST,  on  CBS. 


CHARLIE  CORRELI^-the  "Andy" 
half  of  the  famous  team — declares 
that  any  week  now  he  is  going  to 
put  up  a  flagpole  in  front  of  his  place 
and  a  sign  reading  Holmby  Hills  Coun- 
try Club.  Actually,  although  the  eight- 
een-roomed  Georgian  colonial  structure 
the  Corrells  call  home  does  look  a  little 
Uke  a  country  club,  it  might  more  aptly 
be  called  CorreU's  Kid  Camp. 

Through  its  spacious  rooms  and  over 
its  poUshed  floors  constantly  race  five 
determined  and  lusty  Coi-rell  young- 
sters and  their  assorted  friends.  There 
is  Dorothy,  who  is  nine;  Barbara,  seven; 
Charles,  five;  Jack,  three;  and  Dick, 
just  approaching  his  first  birthday. 

Charlie,  a  gray-haired,  stocky  pixie 
with  a  wicked  twinkle  in  his  blue  eyes 
and  a  ruddy  complexion  that  grows 
ruddier  with  laughter,  has  a  satisfying 
and  exciting  hobby — his  family,  the 
above-named  five  and  his  wife,  Alyce. 
Alyce  is  a  small  (five  feet  tall)  curva- 
ceous, pretty  woman,  with  big  dark 
eyes  and  very  white  skin.  Vivacious 
and  filled  with  as  great  a  love  of  laugh- 
ter as  is  Charlie,  Alyce  shares  his  joy 
in  a  big  family. 

After  their  marriage  in  1937,  Char- 
lie and  Alyce  lived  in  an  apartment  in 
town  while  they  were  having  their 
Holmby  HUls  place  built.  From  the  be- 
ginning Alyce  insisted  on  a  large  house, 
and  that's  what  the  great  Negro  archi- 
tect, Paul  Williams,  designed  for  them. 

There's  a  lot  of  ground,  a  large  pool — 
"Just  right  for  kids,"  Charlie  says. 
"When  we  first  moved  in,  I  thought 
it  was  a  little  silly  that  we'd  built 
such  a  huge  place.  But  Alyce  had  her 
mind  set  on  a  family  of  six  all  along. 
Now  that  we  have  the  five,  we  don't 
have  any  too  much  room." 

(Continued  on  page  74) 


28 


Alyce  was  part  of  a  dancing  team  when  she  and  Charlie  met. 


There  is  a  playroom,  hut  the  kids  have  the  run  of  the  house. 


The  doll  is  a  stand-in  for  Dick,  whose  bedtime  comes  early.  Both  Charlie  and  Alyce  would  like  one  more  child — "an  even  half  dozen." 


M. 


4W 


^C 


29 


^ 


For  and  against. 


the  quiz  show  controversy 


still  rages.     But 


Bob  Hawk  says:  "Watch  a 


quiz  audience;  then 


watch  any  other^  audience. 


There's  your  answer!" 


By 
BOB  HAWK 


The  Bob  Hawk  Show  is  beard  Mon- 
day nights  at  10:30  EST,  CBS  stations. 


ARE  quiz  shows  here  to  stay? 
What  a  question! 

Of  course  they  are!  There's  nothing  on  the  air  that  can  top 
a  good  quiz.  What  other  type  of  show  can  compare  to  it  in  mass 
appeal,  in  audience  participation,  in  spontaneity,  in  unrehearsed 
humor  and  in,  above  all,  just  plain,  downright  folksiness? 

Let  me  prove  my  point. 

Let's  watch  an  audience  listening  in  to  a  comedy  show,  for  in- 
stance (and  you  can  name  your  own  comedian,  too),  and  then  let's 
compare  it  to  an  audience  listening  in  to  a  quiz  program. 

The  comedy  show  audience  is  thoroughly  relaxed;  they  lean 
back  in  their  chairs,  puflBng  away  on  their  cigarettes  and,  in  gen- 
eral, taking  things  very,  very  easy.  No  matter  how  fimny  the  act, 
how  loud  the  laughter,  their  reaction  is,  nevertheless,  purely  pas- 
sive. Their  participation  in  the  show  is  nil.  At  the  most,  the 
audience  plays  the  role  of  amused  observers. 

Now,  let's  take  an  audience  Ustening  in  to  a  good  quiz  program. 
.Watch  the  way  they  lean  forward  in  their  chairs,  the  intent 
expressions  on  their  faces,  the  breathless  hush  when  the  quiz 
master  fires  his  question.  Hear  their  exclamations  of  pleasure  when 
the  contestant  answers  the  question  correctly;  hear  their  groans  of 
dismay  if  he  fumbles  with  the  question  or  can't  answer  it.  Obsei^e 
how  they  then  urge  on  the  contestant,  encourage  him,  pray  for  him 
and,  in  the  end,  call  out  the  correct  answer  in  the  vain  hope  that 
he'U  hear  it. 

Nothing  passive  about  this  audience!  No,  sir! 

What  makes  for  the  difference?  Simple.  Mostly,  it's  just  a  case 
of  self-identification. 

After  all,  who  are  otu:  contestants  but  average  folks  from  all 
walks  of  life:  school-teachers,  career  girls,  housewives,  factory 
workers,  businessmen,  grocery  clerks,  etc.,  etc.? 

And  who  is  otir  listening  audience  but  average  folks  from  all 
walks  of  life:  school-teachers,  career  girls,  housewives,  factory 
workers,  businessmen,  grocery  clerks,  etc.,  etc.? 

Thus  John  and  Mary  Stay-at-Home  enjoy  the  thrilling  sensation 
of  identifying  themselves  with  the  contestant  at. the  microphone. 
If  he  wins,  they  win;  if  he  loses,  they  lose. 

But  it's  not  only  a  matter  of  identification.  It's  more  than  that. 
It's  also  a  case  of  competition.  At  the  same  time  they  are  identify- 
ing themselves  with  the  contestant,  John  and  Mary  are  getting  the 
double  thriU  of  competing  with  that  very  same  contestant,  pitting 
their  knowledge  against  his.  Is  there  any  other  type  of  show  on 
the  air  that  can  supply  this  one-two  punch? 

In  audience  participation,  a  quiz  show  can't  be  beat.  It  can't  even 
be  touched.  It  stands  by  itself.  It's  a  people's  program.  In  fact, 
that's  what  a  good  quiz  should  be  called:  A  Program  for  the 
Common  People. 

I  remember  when  I  first  got  into  the  quiz  busi;ness.  That  was  way 
back  in  1936.  I  was  out  in  Chicago,  then. 

Some  nine  years  before,  in  the  summer  of  1927,  I  had  come  to 
the  Windy  City  to  work  for  an  uncle  of  mine.  My  uncle  was  rich 
and  I  was  poor.   It  was  natural  that  we  should  get  together. 

I'm  kidding,  of  course.    The  fact  is,  I  {Continued  on  page  88) 


30 


Bob  Hawk  piles  up  a 
big  score  on  the  "plus" 
side  of  the  quiz  question. 


31 


'One  good  parent,"  Eve  believes,  "can  do  a  far  better  job  for   a   child   than   two   ill-suited   parents   who   wrangle   constantly." 


s=«4^«■*'• 


■f/^.  ■ 


±-\^ 


>SH. 


■•■■'«-■ 


tX 


■.■'•■^.v* 


--  «<    •» 


r*>v 


:~rV»«»- 


# 


At   tea-party   time — with   baby    Constance    still   too 
young  to  play — Liza  and  Eve  eat  enough  for  three. 


BECAUSE,  on  the  CBS  program  Our  Miss 
Brooks,  I  play  the  role  of  a  schoolteacher, 
and  because  a  schoolteacher  is  supposed  to 
know  everything,  I  receive  a  great  deal  of  mail 
which  asks  my  opinion  on  various  subjects. 

Also,  because  it  is  well  known  that  I  am 
divorced,  and  that  I  have  two  adopted  daugh- 
ters, Liza,  who  is  just  past  four,  and  Constance, 
who  is  a  year  and  a  haK,  much  of  my  opinion- 
seeking  mail  asks  in  essence,  "Is  one  parent 
enough  to  guarantee  a  child  a  fair  start  in  life?" 

Although  I'm  not  a  controversial  person  and 
I  usually  try  to  avoid  even  mild  discussions,  I 
am  now  going  to  stick  my  neck  out  and  say 
that  I  don't  think  it  is  the  number  of  parents 
in  a  home  that  matters.  I  think  the  crucial 
factor  is  the  quality  of  the  person  or  persons 
who  assume  the  responsibihty  of  parenthood. 

Without  doubt,  two  good  parents  are  better 
than  one  good  parent,  but  circumstances  some- 
times give  no  choice  in  that  matter.  That  much- 
abused  phrase  "rearing  a  child  alone"  appears 
to  have  been  a  bugaboo  down  through  the  ages. 
I  want  to  be  qmck  to  (Continued  on  page  84) 


Liza  knows  her  mother's  busy  working, 
but  she  knows  too  that  Eve  won't  let 
anything  interfere  with  their  playtime. 


By  EVE  ARDEN 

Eve  Arden  stars  in  Our  Miss  Brooks, 
Sundays  at  9:30  P.M.  EST,  on  CBS. 


^lan  one  parent  do  a  good  job?  Here's  Eve's  answer,  with  Liza  and  Constance  to  prove  it 


Nora  knows  love's  greatest  sadness,  for  hers  is  a  woman's  heart— it  cannot  forget 


THIS  IS 

NORA 


Young,  lovely  NORA  DRAKE,  nurse  on 

the  stafif  of  Page  Memorial  Hospital  in  Anytown, 

USA,  shares  with  many  young  women  the 

problem  of  combining  a  career  with  personal 

happiness.  But  Nora's  problem  is  doubly 

difficult:    Dr.  Ken  Martinson,  whom  she  loves, 

is  married.   And,  incomplete  as  her  own 

life  is,  Nora  pities  the  bitter  Peg  Martinson. 

(Nora  Drake  is  played  by  Joan  Tompkins) 


Soon  after  his  marriage  to  Peg 
King,  daughter  of  a  wealthy  hos- 
pital trustee.  Dr.  KEN  MAR- 
TINSON realized  he  still  loved 
Nora,  and  asked  for  a  divorce. 
But  Peg  refused  to  release  him, 
and  now  Ken  cannot  insist  be- 
cause a  tragic  automobile  ac- 
cident transformed  his  wife  into 
a  helpless,  dependent  invalid, 
(played  by  Alan  Hewitt) 


Headstrong  PEG  MARTINSON 
took  Ken  away  from  Nora — but 
is  paying  a  dreadful  price  to 
keep  him.  The  crash  that  crip- 
pled her  occurred  when,  blind 
with  rage,  she  drove  away  from 
seeing  Nora.  Now  she  must  live 
with  the  knowledge  that  Ken 
does  not  love  her,  and  that  her 
father,  for  once,  cannot  help  her. 
(played  by  Joan  Alexander) 


I  I 


35 


THIS  IS  NORA   DRAKE 


FRED  MOLINA  was  a  big-time  gambler  when,  throagh 
her  father,  he  met  Nora.  Deciding  that  she  stood  for 
things  he  really  wanted,  Fred  tried  to  win  Nora's 
friendship.  Arthur  Drake  ordered  him  to  stop  seeing 
Nora,  then  in  a  fury  shot  him.  But  Fred  remained  loyal 
to  Drake  dnring  the  latter's  trial  and  imprisonment. 
(Fred  Molina  is  played  by  Larry  Haines) 


ROSE  FULLER,  head  nurse  at  Page  Memorial,  is  a 
wise,  mature  woman,  a  devoted  friend  to  Nora.  Nora's 
troubles  are  never  so  overwhelming  after  she  has  talked 
them  over  with  Rose.  Indeed,  Rose  gives  unsparingly  of 
herself  to  everyone  who  seems  to  need  her,  never  with- 
holding help  even  though  she  knows  she  is  fatally  ill. 
(Rose  Fuller  is  played  by  Irene  Hubbard) 


i 


I    ■  :-:j 


ANDREW  KING  has  everything  that  money  can  buy 
except  his  daughter's  happiness.  He  is  the  only  one 
who  really  understands  that  Peg  is  her  own  worst 
enemy — and  that  she  will  destroy  herself  and  others 
to  get  what  she  wants.  Helpless  to  check  Peg's  pow- 
erful emotions,  Andrew  can  only  try  to  guide  them. 
(Andrew  E^ng  is  played  by  Roger  De  Koven) 


This  Is  Nora  Drake  ie  heard  Monday-?- 


/ 


^, 


SUZANNE  TURRIE,  18-year-old  refugee,  has  been 
warmly  befriended  by  Nora.  Suzanne,  whose  parents 
disappeared  somewhere  in  Europe,  is  the  ward  of  As- 
sistant District  Attorney  Charles  Dobbs,  prosecutor 
in  Arthur  Drake's  case.  An  idealist,  deeply  disturbed 
by  the  world's  confusion,  Dobbs  can  forget  evil  for 
a  time  when  listening  to  Suzanne's  brilliant  piano- 
playing.  But  his  exaltation  is  troubled  by  the  sus- 
picion that  young  Suzanne  is  falling  in  love  with  him. 
(Dobbs  is  Grant  Richards;  Suzanne  is  Joan  Lorring) 


ARTHUR  DRAKE,  Nora's  amiable  but  weak  Dad,  is 
gaining  a  new  insight  into  himself  and  his  rela- 
tionships with  others  while  serving  his  prison  term 
for  shooting  Molina.  Though  her  father's  imprison- 
ment is  a  torment  to  Nora,  Arthur  may  emerge  a 
better  man  with  a  completely  new  attitude  toward  life. 
(Arthur  Drake  is  played  by  Ralph  Bell) 


Friday:  on  CBS  at  2:30  P.M.  EST. 


my'; 


Radio  Mlnror'i  Prixe  Poem 

CHAT  WITH  A  CAT 

Saucers  of  cream, 
Grade  A  beef. 
Tender  mice 
And  a  catnip  leaf. 

Priceless  carpet  to  sharpen  cidws. 

Silken  cushions  for  soiled  paws. 
Mine  the  choice  to  amuse  or  ignore 

Sieves  who  open  and  shut  my  door. 
Mine  the  right,  should  the  shrimp  be  stale. 

With  lifted  whisker  and  twitching  tcdl. 
To  demand  and  get  an  apology 

From  the  cook  who  dared  the  atrocity. 

Men  are  a  superstitious  lot 

And  easy  prey  to  a  feline  plot. 
My  best,  by  far,  is  the  frightened  stare 

At  things  that  obviously  aren't  there. 

They  locked  me  in  when  the  moon  was  high. 

And  Butch,  the  beggar  with  one  good  eye. 
Coaxed  with  a  yowl  and  a  wistful  mew. 

And  I  got  out  and  they  never  knew. 
They  laid  their  plans  for  a  family 

From  the  Silver  Tom  with  the  pedigree. 
But  he's  a  snob,  and  his  voice  is  vile. 

And  besides,  MY  ancestors  ruled  the  Nile. 
When  not  a  kitten  had  silver  hair 

They  washed  their  hands  of   the  whole 
affair. 
And  muttered  together  in  apprehension 

Of  witches  and  devils  ond  foiuth  dimension. 

Saucers  of  cream 
Caviar, 
An  alley  cat 
With  a  battle  scar. 

One  life  spent  and  eight  to  go 

And  I  dreamed  last  night  in  the  sixth  or  so 
I'll  find  a  jungle  and  prowl  about 

In  Hger  stripes  . ,  AND  THEN  WATCH  OUT! 
— ^Mary  Anspach  Simon 


Hello  There: 

Mardivmvb  may  blow  away  clouds  and  rain  .  .  .  but  as  surely  as  they  do,  they 
blow  in  some  of  the  best  of  America's  poetry.    Here  it  is,  poetry  with  brief, 
breezy  titles  .  .  .  wind-bloivn  pictures  .  .  .  and  stormy  stories.  If  March  comes,  in  like  a 
lion  and  goes  out  like  a  lamb  . .  .well '."'.''.  iha^s  life;  and  so  are  the  poems  on  this 
page  . . .  the  lives  of  a  lot  of  folks  all  over  Amerjigif^g, .  who  face  the  winds  of  every 
day  ...  in  March  or  April  or  May,  And  like  the  clouds  and  rain  blftwn  away 
the  wind,  we  hope  these  poems  may  clear  away  some  of  the  clouds  in  your  life. 

—Ted  Malone. 

BUTTER  MOONS 

Old  Annt  Minnie  never  keeps  track  of  money. 
Never  knows  how  much  butter,  as  dollars  go, 
She's  made  a  roU  of,  but  close  on  fifty  years  now. 
She's  kept  her  figures,  ledger  row  on  row. 
And  she  can  tell  yon,  positive  and  plain. 
How  many  pounds  have  moulded  to  her  hand. 
Cool  and  sweet  and  sprinkled  with  drops  like  dew. 
How  many  full  moons  fitting  a  harvest  land 
Wax  to  an  old-gold  zenith  from  her  chnrn. 
And  she  will  tell  you:  woman  need  ask  no  more 
Than  a  bit  of  labor  next-of-kin  to  earth. 
Two  nimble  hands,  an  eye  that  counts  its  store 
In  coin  of  butter,  like  moons  for  a  pasture  hung. 
And  buttermilk's  wild  tang  beneath  her  tongue. 
— Isabelle  Bryans  Longfellow 


t 


FroDLER 

No  one  ever  knew  fhe  titles 

Of  the  tunes  that  Patrick   played. 

He  gathered  them  from  hills  and  hedges 

At  the   source  where  they  were   rnade. 

A  thousand  timbres  flecked  his  numbers, 
The  start  of  a  hore  when  scent  of  fox 
Came  on  the  wind  with  voices  of  warning, 
Then  the  breathless  race  over  lichen  and  rocks. 

Lightning  in  purple  whipcord  flashes 
Sprang  from  his  bow  to  the  fiddle  strings, 
After  a  storm  there  would  be  the  laughing 
Of  broob  and  sun  on  the  flapping  of  wings. 

Patrick  could  play  the  summer  over 

In  the  icy  hush  of  the  winter's  chill. 

Could  bring  back  birdsong  and  a  falling  star, 

Then  meet  spring  conning  over  the  hill. 

Never  was  there  the  sound  of  a  season 
But  Patrick  could  catch  its  undertone, 
Then  out  of  his  hehrt  with  flying  fingers 
Make  of  each  one  a  song  of  his  own. 

— Anne  Tansey 


/ 


38 


DISCOVERY 


Man  wants  but  little  here  below 
(I've  learned  this  to  my  sorrow,) 
Except  ythat  he  can  take  by  show 
Of  force,  and  capture,  blow  by  blow 
Or  beg  or  steal  or  borrow. 

— Sydney  King  Russell 


OF  A  FEATHER 

Women  bear  a  reputation 

For  making  catty  conversa- 
tion. 

And  they  deserve  it,  toe.  But, 
then— 

Ju*t  listen  in    come  day  on 
men! 

— W.  E.  Forbsiein 


ABANDONED  HOMESTEAD 

I  wonder  what  there  was  about  the  farm 

That  gripped  our  hearts  in  bands  that  hold  them  still? 

In  winter  we  were  cold;  in  summer,  warm; 

Precarious  our  perch  upon  the  hill. 

What  did  we  ever  know  save  fruitless  toil 

And  failing  crops — drouth  and  unhappiness? 

What  pay  receive  from  that  old,  worn-out  soil? 

For  our  hard  years  what  do  we  now  possess? 

And  yet — I  always  tvm  my  eyes  away 

When  we  drive  post.  It  saddens  me,  somehow. 

To  see  the  house  so  fallen  to  decay  . . . 

The  fallow  fields  that  never  know  a  plow. 

And  once  I  wept  ...  I  couldn't  help  but  -see 

A  storm  had  felled  my  favorite  apple  tree. 

— Mary  Mabel  Wirries 


SUPER-CARBONATED 

"Don't  bother  Mama," — the  family  said; 

"She's  learning  how  to  write — 
The  strangest  things  come  out  of   her 
head — 

Morning,  noon  and  night. 
Don't  bother  Mama — she's  writing 
fillers— 

With  editors  she's  dated — 
Her  efforts  end  in  shorts  and  thrillers — 

She's  super-corbonotedl 
Don't  bother  Mama" — we  gently  soy, 

"She'll  never  be  the  samel 
She  sold  a  manuscript  today — 

And  put  the  check  in  a  frame!" 

— Ruth  B.  Smoker 


NIGHT  WATCH 

The  cares  ol  night  enfold  the  town. 

The  darkness  flows  like  water. 
But  every  child  is  not  asleep. 

My  daughter,  oh  my  daughter! 
My  heart  is  troubled.  Even  now. 

The  waves  of  dawn  cue  breaking. 
And  in  the  margins  of  the  east 

The  little  lights  ore  waking. 
Your  father  sleeps  his  life  away; 

Time  has  for  him  no  meoming. 
But  oh,  I  feel  the  tired  night 

Upon  my  shoulders  leaning! 
While  at  the  threshold  of  my  heart 

The  hounds  of  fear  are  snarling. 
And  if  you  aren't  home  by  dawn. 

My  darling,  oh  my  darling! 
Some  mother's  son  will  surely  poy. 

And  you,  my  dearest  daughter. 
Will  dine  tomorrow  ( standing  up) 

On  melba  toast  and  water. 

— Faye  Chilcote  Walker 


FRESH  BREAD 

She  shuddered  when  she  heard  the  wind-swung  gate 
Slam  shut,  knowing  he  was  outside  and  nevermore 
Would  come  in  whistling  from  the  field  to  chore 
When  the  sun  dropped  low.   There  was  no  need  to  wait 
The  supper  now  .  .  .  she  was  not  the  first  that  fate 
Had  so  bereft — other  women  lived  and  bore 
A  double  load;  men  had  been  lost  before  .  .  . 
But  companioned  misery  did  not  abate 
Her  pain.    The  bus  would  clatter  by  from  school 
And  hungry  children  must  be  met  and  fed; 
She  sensed  some  comfort  in  familiar  smell 
Of  fresh-baked  loaves  turned  on  the  shelf  to  cool 
And  life  felt  safer,  somehow,  when  the  bread 
Was  made,  she  thought — and  it  turned  out  so  well. 
— Nellie  Burget  Miller 


RADIO  MIRROR  WILL  PAY  FIFTY  DOLLARS 

for  the  best  original  poem  sent  in  each  month  by  a  reader.  Five  dollars 
will  be  paid  for  each  other  origiaal  poem  used  oq  Between  the  Book- 
ends  pages  in  Radio  Mirror.  Limit  poems  to  30  lines,  address  to  Ted 
Malone,  Radio  Mirror,  205  E.  42,  N.  Y.  17,  N.  Y.  When  postage  is  en- 
closed, every  effort  will  be  made  to  return  unused  manuscripts.  This  is 
not  a  contest,  but  an  offer  to  purchase  poetry  for  our  Bookends  pages. 


^»'  —^  *^     "■»'  JBe  uMWiiFlfaten  to  Ted  Malone's  prdQigin  Mon^g^  t 


through  Fridur  mornings  at  11:30  EST  over  ABC*^ 


~'^^^- 


iiU 


Hello  There. 

March  tvinda  may  btqtv  atoay  cloudi  and  rain  ...  bm  as  surely  as  they  do,  they 
blow  in  some  of  the  best  of  America's  poetry.    Here  it  is,  poetry  tcith  brief, 
breezy  lilies  .  .  .  wind-blown  pictures  .  .  .  and  stormy  stories.   If  March  comes  in  like  a 
lion  and  goes  out  like  a  lamb  . . .  well  . . .  that's  life;  and  so  are  the  poems  on  this 
page  . .  .  the  lives  of  a  lot  of  folks  all  over  America  .  .  .  who  face  the  uindi  of  every 
day  .  .  .in  March  or  April  or  May.  And  like  the  clouds  and  rain  blotiin  amty 
by  the  wind,  we  hope  these  poems  may  clear  away  some  of  the  clouds  in  your  life. 

— Ted  Malone. 


Radio  Mirror*!  Prize  Poftm 

CHAT  WITH  A  CAT 

Saucers  of  cream, 
Giade  A  beef. 
Tender  mice 
And  a  catnip  leaf. 

Priceless  carpet  to  sharpen  claws. 

Silken  cushions  for  soiled  paws. 
Mine  the  choice  to  amuse  or  ignore 

Slaves  who  open  and  shut  my  door. 
Mine  the  right,  should  the  shrimp  be  stole. 

With  lifted  whisker  and  twitching  tcdl, 
To  demand  and  get  an  apology 

From  the  cook  who  dared  the  atrocity. 

Men  are  a  superstitious  lot 

And  easy  prey  to  a  feline  plot. 
My  best,  by  far,  is  the  frightened  stare 

At  things  that  obviously  aren't  there. 

They  locked  me  in  when  the  moon  was  high, 

And  Butch,  the  beggar  with  one  good  eye. 
Coaxed  with  a  yowl  and  a  wistful  mew. 

And  I  got  out  and  they  never  knew. 
They  laid  their  plans  for  a  family 

From  the  Silver  Tom  with  the  pedigree. 
But  he's  a  snob,  and  his  voice  is  vile. 

And  besides,  MY  ancestors  ruled  the  Nile. 
When  not  a  kitten  had  silver  hair 

They  washed  their   hands   of   the  whole 
affair. 
And  muttered  together  in  apprehension 

Of  witches  and  devils  and  fourth  dimension. 

Saucers  of  cream 
Caviar, 
An  alley  cat 
With  a  battle  scar. 

One  life  spent  and  eight  to  go 

And  I  dreamed  last  night  in  the  sucth  or  so 
I'll  find  a  Jungle  and  prowl  about 

In  tiger  stripes  . .  AND  THEN  WATCH  OUTI 
— Mary  Anspach  Simon 


BUTTER  MOONS 

Old  Annt  Minnie  never  keeps  track  of  money, 
Never  knows  how  mucli  butter,  as  dollars  go, 
She's  made  a  roll  of,  bat  close  on  fifty  years  now. 
She's  kept  her  figures,  ledger  row  on  row. 
And  she  can  tell  yon,  positive  and  plain. 
How  many  poonds  have  moulded  to  her  hand. 
Cool  and  sweet  and  sprinkled  with  drops  like  dew. 
How  many  full  moons  fitting  a  harvest  land 
Wax  to  an  old-gold  zenith  from  her  churn. 
And  she  will  tell  you:  woman  need  ask  no  more 
Than  a  bit  of  labor  next-of-kin  to  earth. 
Two  nimble  bands,  an  eye  that  counts  its  store 
In  coin  of  butter,  like  moons  for  a  pastnre  hung. 
And  buttermilk's  wild  tang  beneath  her  tongue. 
— Isabelle  Bryans  Longfellow 


No  one  ever  knew  ihe  titles 

Of  the  tunas  that  Patrick   played. 

He  gathered  them  from  hills  ond  hedges 

At  the   source  where   they  were   rnade. 


DISCOVERY 

Man  wonts  but  little  hare  below 
(I've  learned  this  to  my  lorrow,) 
Except  what  he  can  take  by  show 
Of  force,  and  capture,  blow  by  blow 
Or  beg  or  steal  or  borrow. 

— Sydney  King  Russell 


OF  A  FEATHER 

Women  bear  a  reputation 

For  making  catty  conversa- 
tion. 

And  they  deserve  it,  too.  Bui, 
then— 

Juit  listen  in    some  day  on 
menl 

— W.  E.  Forbktein 


ABAiSi>OiKiii>  rtOMiiSlKAU 

I  wonder  whot  tti«r«  wo>  about  th«  farm 

That  gripped  our  heorH  in  bands  that  hold  them  iHll? 

In  winter  we  were  coldj  in  summer,  warm; 

Precarious  our  perch  upon  the  hill. 

What  did  we  ever  know  save  fruitless  toil 

And  failing  crops — drouth  and  unhapplneu? 

What  pay  receive  from  that  old,  worn-out  soil? 

For  our  hard  years  vAat  do  we  now  possess? 

And  yet — I  always  turn  my  eyes  away 

When  we  drive  past.  It  saddens  me,  somehow, 

To  see  the  hcuie  so  fallen  to  decay  . . . 

The  fallow  fields  thot  never  know  a  plow. 

And  once  I  wept ...  I  couldn't  help  but  see 

A  storm  hod  felted  my  favorite  apple  tree. 

—Mary  Mabel  WIrrles 


SI!  PER-C  ARBOIN  ATED 

"Don't  ixyther  Mamo,''-Hhe  famlty  saldj 

"She's  learning  how  to  write — 
The    strangest    things    come    out    of    her 
head— 

Morning,  rtoon  and  night. 
Don't  bother  Mama^-she*s  writing 
fillers— 

With  editors  she's  dated — 
Her  efforts  end  In  shorts  and  thrillers — 

She's  super-carbonatedl 
Don't  bother  Mama" — we  gently  say, 

''She'll  nrver  be  the  samel 
She  sold  a  manuscript  today — 

And  put  the  check  In  a  framel" 

— Ruth  B.  Smoker 


NIGHT  WATCH 

The  cares  of  night  eniold  the  town, 

The  darkness  flows  like  watetay 
But  ever7  child  is  not  asleep. 

My  daughter,  oh  my  daughter! 
My  heart  is  troubled.  Even  now. 

The  waves  of  dawn  are  breaking. 
And  in  the  margins  of  the  east 

The  little  lights  are  waking. 
Your  father  sleeps  his  life  away; 

Time  has  for  him  no  meaning, 
But  oh,  I  feel  the  tired  night 

Upon  my  shoulders  leaning! 
While  at  the  threshold  of  my  heart 

The  hounds  of  fear  ore  snarling, 
And  if  you  aren't  home  by  dawn, 

My  darling,  oh  my  darling] 
Some  mother's  son  will  surely  pay. 

And  you,  my  dearest  daughter. 
Will  dine  tomorrow  (standing  up) 

On  melba  toast  and  water. 

— Foye  Chilcote  Walker 


FRESH  BREAD 

She  shuddered  when  she  heard  the  wind-swung  Rate 
Slam  shut,  knowing  he  was  outside  and  nevermore 
Would  come  in  whistling  from  the  field  to  chore 
When  the  sun  dropped  low.   There  was  no  need  to  wait 
The  supper  now  .  .  .  she  was  not  the  first  that  fato 
Had  80  bereft — other  women  lived  and  bore 
A  double  load;  men  had  been  lost  before  .  .  . 
But  companioned  misery  did  not  abate 
Her  pain.    The  bus  would  clatter  by  from  school 
And  hungry  children  must  be  met  and  fed; 
She  sensed  some  comfort  in  familiar  smell 
Of  fresh-baked  loaves  turned  on  the  shelf  to  cool 
And  life  fell  safer,  somehow,  when  the  bread 
Was  made,  she  thought — and  it  turned  out  so  well. 
— Nellie  Burget  Miller 


RADIO  MIRROR  WILL  PAY  FIFTY  DOLLARS 

for  the  best  original  poem  sent  in  each  month  by  a  reader.  Five  dollars 
will  be  paid  for  each  other  original  poem  ucd  on  Between  the  Book- 
ends  pages  in  Radio  Mirror,  Limit  poems  to  30  lines,  address  to  Ted 
Malone,  Radio  Mirror,  205  E.  42,  N.  Y.  17,  N.  Y.  When  postage  is  en- 
closed, every  effort  will  be  made  to  return  unused  manuscripts.  This  is 
not  a  contest,  but  an  offer  to  purchase  poetry  for  our  Bookends  pages. 


:f  ^  -^^^,«a*«len  w  Ted  MJone'.  pr^Sb™  Mon4eyJ»«'»«'>  ^'^^  mornm»  .•  11:30  JST  over  ABC^       ^  , . 


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Dear  Joan  Davis: 

I  have  always  believed  that  if  a  person  was 
old  enough  to  decide  to  get  married,  she  was 
old  enough  to  settle  any  problems  that  might 
come  up.  But — I  guess  you  can't  anticipate 
the  kind  of  things  that  do  come  up!  I've  been 
married  for  three  years  to  a  boy  I'm  crazy 
about,  and  everything  has  been  fine  although 
(and  this  is  a  big  although)  we  have  had  to 
make  our  home  with  his  mother  and  father. 
Bobby's  father  is  no  problem  because  he  is  a 
traveling  man,  and  only  home  about  half  of 
every  month,  but  Bobby's  mother  is  another 
story.  Not  that  there  isn't  plenty  of  room; 
there  is.  And  not  that  she's  bossy  or  interfer- 
ing. She's  just  always  there,  part  of  the  fam- 
ily. Or,  rather,  we  are  part  of  her  family.  But 
I  don't  care  about  anything,  as  long  as  Bobby 
and  I  are  together,  and  he  feels  the  same  way. 
Except,  now,  w^e're  going  to  have  a  baby.  Joan, 
I  think  this  makes  \is  a  family  in  ovu-  own 
right— and  that's  my  problem. 

You  see,  living  with  Bobby's  mother,  we've 
saved  a  lot  on  living  expenses.  Bobby  doesn't 
make  very  much — ^as  what  young  veteran  does, 
.with  prices  the  Avay  they  are! — and  this  saving 
has  helped  us  along  a  great  deal.  We  could 
get  a  small  apartment  of  our  own,  here  in 
town,  that  would  be  large  enough  for  us  after 
the  baby  came — but  this  would  mean  more 
than  doubling  our  monthly  expenses.  I've 
figured  and  figux'ed,  but  I  can't  see  any  way 
out.   We  coiild  just  do  it.   It  would  mean  no 


possibility  of  saving;  no  new  clothes;  no  extra 
expenses  however  small;  maybe  not  even  a 
baby  sitter  more  than  once  a  month.  But  we 
could  squeeze  through,  that  way.  I  think  we 
ought  to  try  it.  But  Bobby — ^well,  I  guess 
the  extra  load  worries  him  too  much;  he  wants 
us  to  stay  put.  I  just  can't  figure  out  what 
would  be  most  sensible — and  I  don't  want 
another  woman  bringing  up  my  baby. 

Helen  L.  K. 

Dear  Helen  K: 

I  think,  from  your  letter,  that  you  really  like 
your  mother-in-law,  are  really  able  to  get 
along  with  her.  That's  not  as  rare  as  the  stories 
and  movies  would  have  us  beUeve,  but  just 
the  same  that  friendship  is  a  valuable  one — 
valuable  enough  to  be  preserved,  even  if  the 
preserving  of  it  does  entail  some  sacrifice. 
Don't  misunderstand  me;  I  believe  with  all  my 
Jbeart  that  a  young  couple  should  save  a  part  of 
their  income.  And  I  believe,  too,  that  the  big 
and  wonderful  happiness  of  marriage  depends 
on  a  lot  of  little  happinesses,  some  of  them  as 
unimportant  as  new  dresses  and  an  occasional 
fling. 

But  it's  as  true  today  as  it  always  has  been 
and  always  will  be — there's  not  room  for  two 
families  under  one  roof,  no. matter  how  well 
those  two  families  seem  to  get  along  in  the  be- 
ginning. You  and  your  husband  and  this  new 
baby  of  yoiu's  are  entitled  to  a  home  of  your 
own.  And,  looking  at  the  other  side  for  a  mo- 


Have  you  a  problem  for  Joan  Davis  this  month?  If  you  haven'tj 


ment — so  is  your  mother-in-law! 

I  can  only  tell  you  what  I'd  do  if  I  were  in 
your  place.  It's  this:  I'd  do  my  very  best  to 
find  a  home  of  my  own.  I  think  you'll  find  that 
all  the  scrimping  and  saving  you  have  to  do  to 
accomplish  it  will  be  well  repaid  in  the  long 
run.  You  and  your  husband  and  child  will  be 
happier,  and  you'll  keep  that  very  valuable 
friendship  and  mutual  respect  that  now  exists 
between  you  and  your  mother-in-law. 

— Joan  Davis 

Dear  Joan  Davis: 

I'm  a  small  town  girl.  I  know  that  sounds 
defiant  and  defensive — and  it  is.  I've  lived  all 
my  life  in  this  town,  my  parents  and  grand- 
parents are  known  here  by  everyone,  and  I 
met  the  boy  I'm  about  to  marry  here  because 
this  is  his  town  too.  I've  never  wanted  to  leave 
it.  But  he  does,  Joan.  It's  Kenneth's  idea  that, 
after. we're  married,  the  thing  for  us  to  do  is 
light  out  for  the  nearest  big  city,  which  is 
around  ninety  miles  away.  That  means — oh,'  it 
m^eans  so  many  things,  so  many  dislocations,  I 
think  the  word  is.  Anyway,  it  certainly  means 
we  could  only  get  home  every  now  and  then. 
We  know  absolutely  nobody  in  the  city — I'd 
have  to  make  new  friends,  if  I  could:  I've 
never  had  to  do  that;  I've  had  my  friends 
aroimd  me  all  of  my  life!  And  all  the  other 
strange,  frightening  changes — I  don't  see  how 
I  can  face  them.  Ken  says  that  if  he's  ever  to 
"get  anywhere,"  in  (Continued  on  page  97) 


try  solving  the  one  she  has  chosen  for  you 


Each  month  on  these  pages,  Joau  Davis  will  answer 
your  questions  on  any  problem  concerning  mar- 
riage, except  problems  of  health  or  of  law.  Address 
your  letters  to  Joan  Davis,  Radio  Mirror  Magazine, 
205  East  42nd  Street,  New  York  17,  New  York. 
Joan  will  also  choose,  for  each  issue,  one  problem 
which  she  will  ask  readers  to  answer.  Each  month, 
to  the  person  sending  in  the  best  answer  in  the 
opinion  of  the  editors,  whose  decision  will  be  Anal, 
RADIO  MIRROR  WILL  PAY  FIFTY  DOLLARS. 
No  letters  will  be  returned.  Limit  your  answer  to 
one  hundred  words  and  send  it  to  Answers,  Radio 
Mirror,  at  the  qddress  above.  And  be  sure  to.  listen 
to  When  A  Girl  Marries  each  Monday  through 
Friday  at  5  P.M.,  EST,  over  NBC  network  stations. 


Here  is  this  month's  problem;  $50  will  go  to  the 
writer  whose  letter  offers  the  best  solution.  Your 
letter  must  be  received  not  later  than  March  1st. 


WHEN  HUSBAND  AND  WIFE  BOTH 
HAVE  JOBS,  SHOULD  THE  HUSBAND 
SHARE    THE    HOUSEHOLD    DUTIES? 


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Dear  Joan  Davis: 

I  have  always  believed  that  if  a  person  was 
old  enough  to  decide  to  get  married,  she  was 
old  enough  to  settle  any  problems  that  might 
come  up.  But — I  guess  you  can't  anticipate 
the  kind  of  things  that  do  come  up!  I've  been 
married  for  three  years  to  a  boy  I'm  crazy 
about,  and  everything  has  been  fine  although 
(and  this  is  a  big  although)  we  have  had  to 
make  our  home  with  his  mother  and  father. 
Bobby's  father  is  no  problem  because  he  is  a 
traveling  man,  and  only  home  about  half  of 
every  month,  but  Bobby's  mother  is  another 
story.  Not  that  there  isn't  plenty  of  room; 
there  is.  And  not  that  she's  bossy  or  interfer- 
ing. She's  just  always  there,  part  of  the  fam- 
ily. Or,  rather,  we  are  part  of  her  family.  But 
I  don't  care  about  anything,  as  long  as  Bobby 
and  I  are  together,  and  he  feels  the  same  way. 
Except,  now,  we're  going  to  have  a  baby.  Joan, 
I  think  this  makes  us  a  family  in  our  own 
right — and  that's  my  problem. 

You  see,  living  with  Bobby's  mother,  we've 
saved  a  lot  on  living  expenses.  Bobby  doesn't 
make  very  much — as  what  young  veteran  does, 
.with  prices  the  way  they  are! — and  this  saving 
has  helped  us  along  a  great  deal.  We  could 
get  a  small  apartment  of  our  own,  here  in 
town,  that  would  be  large  enough  for  vis  after 
the  baby  came — but  this  would  mean  more 
than  doubling  oui'  monthly  expenses.  I've 
figured  and  figured,  but  I  can't  see  any  way 
out.   We  could  just  do  it.   It  would  mean  no 


possibility  of  saving;  no  new  clothes;  no  extra 
expenses  however  small;  maybe  not  even  a 
baby  sitter  more  than  once  a  month.  But  we 
could  squeeze  through,  that  way.  I  think  we 
ought  to  try  it.  But  Bobby — ^well,  I  guess 
the  extra  load  worries  him  too  much;  he  wants 
us  to  stay  put.  I  just  can't  figure  out  what 
would  be  most  sensible — and  I  don't  want 
another  woman  bringing  up  my  baby. 

Helen  L.  K, 

Dear  Helen  K: 

I  think,  from  your  letter,  that  you  really  like 
your  mother-in-law;  are  really  able  to  get 
along  with  her.  That's  not  as  rare  as  the  stories 
and  movies  would  have  us  believe,  but  just 
the  same  that  friendship  is  a  valuable  one — 
valuable  enough  to  be  preserved,  even  if  the 
preserving  of  it  does  entail  some  sacrifice. 
Don't  misunderstand  me;  I  believe  with  aU  my 
heart  that  a  young  couple  should  save  a  part  of 
their  income.  And  I  believe,  too,  that  the  big 
and  wonderful  happiness  of  marriage  "depends 
on  a  lot  of  little  happinesses,  some  of  them  as 
unimportant  as  new  dresses  and  an  occasional 
fling. 

But  it's  as  true  today  as  it  always  has  been 
and  always  will  be — there's  not  room  for  two 
faraUies  under  one  roof,  no, matter  how  well 
those  two  families  seem  to  get  along  in  the  be- 
ginning. You  and  your  husband  and  this  new 
baby  of  youis  are  entitled  to  a  home  of  your 
own.  And,  looking  at  the  other  side  for  a  mo- 


Have  you  a  problem  for  Joan  Davis  this  month?  If  you  haven  t, 


ment — so  is  your  mother-in-law! 

I  can  only  tell  you  what  I'd  do  if  I  were  in 
your  place.  It's  this:  I'd  do  my  very  best  to 
find  a  home  of  my  own.  I  think  you'll  find  that 
all  the  scrimping  and  saving  you  have  to  do  to 
accomplish  it  will  be  well  repaid  in  the  long 
run.  You  and  your  husband  and  child  will  be 
happier,  and  you'll  keep  that  very  valuable 
friendship  and  mutual  respect  that  now  exists 
between  you  and  your  mother-in-law. 

— Joan  Davis 

Deal-  Joan  Davis: 

I'm  a  small  town  girl.  I  know  that  sounds 
defiant  and  defensive — and  it  is.  I've  lived  all 
my  life  in  this  town,  my  parents  and  grand- 
parents are  known  here  by  evei-yone,  and  I 
met  the  boy  I'm  about  to  marry  here  because 
this  is  his  town  too.  I've  never  wanted  to  leave 
it.  But  he  does,  Joan.  It's  Kenneth's  idea  that, 
after. we're  married,  the  thing  for  us  to  do  is 
light  out  for  the  nearest  big  city,  which  is 
around  ninety  miles  away.  That  means — oh,  it 
me-ans  so  many  things,  so  many  dislocations,  I 
think  the  word  is.  Anyway,  it  certainly  means 
we  could  only  get  home  every  now  and  then. 
We  know  absolutely  nobody  in  the  city — I'd 
have  to  make  new  friends,  if  I  could.  I've 
never  had  to  do  that;  I've  had  my  friends 
around  me  aU  of  my  life!  And  all  the  other 
strange,  frightening  changes — I  don't  see  how 
I  can  face  them.  Ken  says  that  if  he's  ever  to 
"get  anywhere,"  in   (Continued  on  page  97) 


try  solving  the  one  she  has  chosen  for  you 


■'*'l 

4 


^i\ 


\- 


By 

JOAN    DAVIS 

llcrolnr  of  Wh^n  A 
Girl  Mnrrien,  pluyed 
by  Mury  Jnno  lUgby 


Each  month  on  these  poR.es,  Joan  Davia  will  unnwcr 
your  questions  on  any  problem  concerning  mar- 
riage, except  problems  of  health  or  of  law.  Address 
your  letters  to  Joan  Davis,  Radio  Mirror  Maganine, 
205  East  42nd  Street,  New  York  17,  New  York. 
Joan  will  also  choose,  for  each  issue,  one  problem 
which  she  will  ask  readers  to  answer.  Each  month, 
to  the  person  sending  in  the  best  answer  in  the 
opinion  of  the  editors,  whose  decision  will  be  final, 
RADIO  MIRROR  WILL  PAY  FIFTY  DOLLARS. 
No  letters  will  be  returned.  Limit  your  answer  to 
one  hundred  words  and  send  it  to  Answers,  Radio 
Mirror,  at  the  address  above.  And  be  sure  to.  listen 
to  When  A  Girl  Marries  each  Monday  through 
Friday  at  5  P.M.,  EST,  over  NBC  network  stations. 


Here  is  this  month's  problem;  $50  will  go  to  the 
writer  whose  letter  offers  the  best  solulion.  Your 
letter  must  be  received  not  later  than,  March  Ist. 

WHEN  HUSBAND  AND  WIFE  BOTH 
HAVE  JOBS,  SHOULD  THE  HUSBAND 
SHARE    THE     HOUSEHOLD    DUTIES? 


y 


.It 


:* 


* 


* 


±  > 


:*#.' 


ass 


/lllffKJl 


Ever  since  childhood,  these 


two  have  heen  traveling  together. 


And,  always,  they've  had  the  same  guide 


By 

TOMMY 
6ARTLETT 

M.  C.  of  Welcome  Travel- 
ers, heard  Mon.-Fri.  at 
12  Noon,  EST,  over  ABC. 


JOSEPH  and  Virginia  Muir,  of  Pullman,  Washing- 
ton, are  our  travelers  of  the  month — and  ovir  love 
story  of  the  year.  These  two  built  a  happy,  normal 
home  in  the  face  of  one  of  the  toughest  breaks  that 
ever  could  confront  a  couple.  And  in  this  world  of 
doubt  and  fear  and  trouble,  their  courage  and  simple 
valor  are  something  we  ought  to  know  about. 

I'm  going  to  start  my  story  by  ^letting  you  know,  in 
advance,  that  Joe  and  Virginia  got  their  happy 
ending,  as  has  been  proper  in  stories  about  people  in 
love  since  the  beginning  of  time.  But  how  they  got 
that  happy  ending  is  the  story. 

Back  on  May  3,  1929,  in  Heber  City,  Utah,  Joe  was 
eighteen,  a  bright  young  student  at  the  high  school. 
Virginia  was  seventeen,  one  of  the  most  popular  girls 
in  the  school,  a  wonderful  dancer.  Since  he  had  been 
ten,  Joe  had  been  in 'love  with  Virginia.  She  sort  of 
liked  him,  too,  but  Virginia  was  young  and  heartfree, 
and  there  was  no  need  to  be  serious  about  any  boy. 

On  that  day,  though,  she'd  agreed  to  be  Joe's  date 
at  a  high  school  field  day.  Joe  picked  her  up  early  in 
his  Dad's  car,  then  picked  up  two  other  couples.  It 
was  a  day  of  brightness  and  promise,  a  day  on  which 
to  be  young  and  in  love.  They  sang  in  the  car,  those 
six  kids,  and  bantered  about  the  afternoon  treats  yet 
to  come. 

Suddenly  one  of  the  tires  picked  up  a  spike.  There 
was  the  l\irch,  the  second  of  terror,  the  crash.  Only 
Virginia  was  hurt  badly,  but  she  really  was  hurt.  The 
next  day,  doctors  amputated  her  left  leg. 

Joe  was  at  the  hospital,  just  sitting,  feeling  miser- 
able, when  Virginia  was  wheeled  into  the  operating 
room.  He  was  there  the  next  day,  and  the  next,  and 
the  next.  He  was  there  with  flowers  and  with  a  much 
too  grim  look  on  his  young  face. 

Virginia  recalls  now: 

"I  thought  he  was  just  sorry  for  me,  and  I  didn't 
want  anyone's  pity.  I  guess  those  visits  of  his  weren't 
much  fun  for  either  of  us." 

Virginia  was  to  be  in  that  hospital  from  May  imtil 
November.  The  treatments  were  long  and  painful — 
and  expensive.  People  in  town  tried  to  help  out.  They 
put  on  plays  and  smokers,  with  all  of  the  profits  going 
for  medical  expenses.  This  didn't  quite  cover  the  bills, 
though,  so  Joe  took  over.  He  went  to  work  in  a  silver 
mine,  on  a  shift  that  dug  out  fifty  tons  of  ore  every 
eight  hours.  As  Joe  said:  "I  still  get  tired  when  I  think 
of  that  work.  I'd  jtist  dig  and  dig,  and  when  I  got 
tired,  I'd  think  of  Virginia  in  the  hospital,  and  then 
I'd  dig  some  more." 

Slowly,  a  bucket  of  ore  at  a  time,  the  bills  were  paid 
off.  At  last  Virginia  was  home,  and  both  of  them  could 
think  of  their  senior  year  in  high  school.  Not  the 
senior  year  that  they  had  planned  on.  Not  the  walks, 
the  dances  and  the  hayrides.  But  at  least  the  return 
to  studies. 

I'll  bet  that  classmates  ^f  Joe  and  Virginia  stUl  re- 
call the  odd,  touching  picture  that  the  two  of  them 
made  diiring  that  last  year  in  high  school.  Joe  would 
pick  her  up  in  the  morniag,  carrying  her  from  her 
front  door  to  his  car.   Then  (Continued  on  page  101) 


42 


RABlO  MlHlttfIt 


DO  you  remember  when  the  first  radio  network  went 
into  operation?  Radio  itself  was  a  wonderftd  thing,  an 
almost  iinbelievable  thing — but  a  radio  network!  To 
be  able  to  hear,  half  way  across  the  country,  a  radio  pro- 
gram that  was  being  broadcast  that  very  moment  in  New 
York  City,  seemed  close  to  magic. 

"Some  day,"  a  few  dreamers  said,  "we'll  be  able  to  see 
the  programs  instead  of  just  hearing  them.  And  there'll  be 
a  network  of  programs  to  be  seen,  just  hke  the  new  radio 
networks."  Nearly  everybody  laughed  at  so  preposterous 
an  idea.    But  "nearly  everybody"  was  wrong. 

Now,  more  and  more  people  are  seeing  their  favorite 
programs.  And,  on  January  11,  that  predicted  television 
network  came  into  being,  linking  regional  networks,  and 
making  possible  the  simultaneous  viewing  of  television 
shows  in  Boston,  New  York,  Philadelphia,  Baltimore, 
Washington,  Richmond,  Pittsburgh,  Cleveland,  Buffalo, 
Toledo,  Detroit,  Chicago,  Milwaukee  and  St.  Louis! 

Bowing — with  a  great  deal  of  pleasure — to  the  progress 
of  radio's  rapidly-growing  Uttle  brother.  Radio  and  Tele- 
vision MiRKOR  begins,  with  this  issue,  an  expanded  Tele- 
vision Section,  to  keep  its  readers  abreast  of  TV  news. 

— The  Editors 


43 


Bert  Lytell  and  Oscar  Karlweiss  repeated  their   co-starring 
stage  success,  "I  Like  It  Here",  on  an  early  Philco  Playhouse. 


Judith  Evelyn   (seated,  r.)   starred  in  Playhouse's  "Camille." 
Below,  Betty  Field  and  Efrem  Zimbalist  in  "Street  Scene." 


aisie 


Bert  Lytell,  with  stage,  screen  and  radio  experience  be- 
hind him,  says  television  is  the  most  exacting  medium 
he's   tried.    He   emcees  Playhouse,   Sundays,   NBC-TV. 


ASK  Bert  Lytell  how  he  feels  about  his  job  as 
host,  narrator  and  sometime-actor  for  the 
Philco  Television  Playhouse  and  he  comes 
right  back  at  you  with,  "Oh,  Fred  Coe  does  a 
magnificent  job.  He's  director,  cameraman  and 
cutter,  all  in  one.  He  handles  four  cameras  more 
fiuidly  and  with  more  flexibility  than  anyone 
would  think  possible  in  television  at  this  stage." 
The  point  I'm  making  is  that  everyone  at  the 
TV  Playhouse  thinks  everyone  else  is  doing  a 
magnificent  job.  They  are.  It  has  been  one  of  the 
smoothest,  slickest  operations  in  television  ever 
since  that  Sunday  evening  {Continued  on  page  78) 


i^l 


RADIO    MIRROR      TELEVISION       SECTION 

ii 


The  whole  cast — ex- 
cept for  Fran— takes 
a  bow:  left  to  right. 
Colonel  Cracky, 
Cecil  Bill  Ryan, 
Millicent,  Knkla, 
Mme.  Ooglepnss, 
Benlah  Witch,  Flet- 
cher Rabbit.  Knkla, 
Fran  and  Ollie  is 
televised  weekdays 
on  the  NBC-TV  net- 
work from  WBKB, 
Chicago. 


Kukla, Fran  and  Ollie- 


HARDLY  anyone  caUs  Kukla,  Fran  and  Ollie  pup- 
pets except  their  boss,  marionette  artist  Burr 
TiUstrom.  He  talks  for  them  and  pulls  the 
strings.  But  to  Fran,  who  works  on  the  NBC-TV 
network  show  with  them,  they're  like  real  live  actors. 

Mr.  Tillstrom  made  Kukla  for  a  friend,  back  in 
1936,  but  realized  at  the  last  minute  that  he  couldn't 
let  the  little  feUow  go.  But  he  didn't  have  a  name 
until  ballerina  Toumanova  christened  him  Kukla, 
which  means  "little  doll"  in  Russian. 

OUie,  the  other  puppet  member  of  the  trio,  is  the 
traditional  dragon  used  in  practicaUy  every  puppet 
show — but  with  a  difference.  He's  a  good  dragon. 

The  supporting  stars  are  Mme.  Ophelia  Oogle- 
puss,  Clara  Coo,  Mercedes,  Col.  Cracky,  Fletcher 
Rabbit,  Beulah  Witch  and  CecU  Bill. 

Which  brings  us  now  to  Fran— who  is  nobody's 
puppet,  but  a  pretty  ex-school  teacher,  beloved  as 
radio's  Aunt  Fanny. 

Tillstrom  is  a  Chicagoan  who  began  his  career  at 
kindergarten  age  when  he  struggled  to  make  his 
toys  seem  alive.  By  1939  he  was  managing  the 
marionette  theater  at  Marshall  Field.  After  a  speU 
at  the  N.  Y.  World's  Fair,  he  returned  to  Chicago, 
where  he  pioneered  in  television  with  marionettes. 

On  Oct.  13,  1947,  the  show  made  its  television  de- 
but for  RCA  on  WBKB,  Chicago.  In  Nov.,  1948,  it 
joined  the  NBC  midwest  television  network.  This 
year  it  spread  to  the  NBC-TV  eastern  net. 

The  eastern  audiences  don't  think  of  the  actors 
as  two  puppets  and  a  girl,  any  more  than  the  old 
audiences  did.  They  just  see  Kukla,  Fran  and  Ollie 
— three  lively  characters  who  make  the  day  a  little 
brighter,  five  days  a  week. 


Fran  Allison  is  the  only  human  member  of  the  cast;  Burr 
Tillstrom  (r.)  is  the  producer.  Below,  Ollie  shows  Kukla  the 
magnificent   set   of   teeth   a   dentist  listener   made   for  him. 


RADIO    MIRROR      TEIEVISION      SECTION 


]lj| 

BRICK 


Jack  Brickhouse,  who  began  early  to  perfect 
his  TV  technique,  is  WGN-TV  Sports  Manager. 


I 


OFFICIALLY,  that  Saturday  morning, 
WBKB,  then  Chicago's  only  television 
station,  was  off  the  air  and  closed. 

But  the  pubhc  had  different  ideas.  The 
snarling  of  the  unattended  switchboard  pene- 
trated even  distant  offices.  As  the  sound 
sawed  into  nerves,  executives  swarmed 
around  it,  helpless.  Then  Jack  Brickhouse 
walked  in.  • 

Expert  as  the  blandest  operator,  he 
straightened  it  out,  answered  calls,  gave  in- 
formation, in  one  of  Chicago's  highest  priced 
radio  and  television  voices. 

"Nothing  to  it,"  he  told  his  amazed  ad- 
mirers. "This  was  my  first  radio  job.  WMBD 
in  Peoria  paid  me  $17  a  week  as  a  telephone 
operator,  with  the  privilege  of  announcing 
for  free." 

A  student  at  Bradley  Tech  in  those  days, 
he  strayed  into  the  station  because  he  needed 
the  watch  they  offered  as  a  prize  to  the 
winner  of  an  amateur  announcer's  contest. 
He  didn't  win,  but  as  consolation  prize  they 
put  him  to  work  on  the  switchboard. 

Shortly  thereafter,  the  station  sent  him  out 
on.  tour  with  Bradley  Tech's  basketball  team. 
He   did   the   final   broadcast   from   Madison 


Square  Garden — big  thrill  for  a  youngster! 

Always  an  athlete  himself,  he  brought  a 
player's  knowledge  to  the  microphone.  To 
this,  he  added  the  advantage  of  being  steeped 
in  show  business.  His  father  was  a  trouper 
who  had  run  a  medicine  show. 

Brick,  having  covered  sports,  news  and 
everything-  else  he  could  find,  moved  to 
WGN  in  1940  as  sports  and  special  events 
man.  He  served  with  the  Marines  during 
the  war,  and  free-lanced  on  his  return,  cov- 
ered the  Giants'  baseball  games  in  New  York, 
came  back  to  Chicago  for  football  season. 

He  learned  his  television  ABCs  by  working 
without  charge  every  assignment  WBKB 
would  give  him.  When  WGN-TV  went  on  the 
air  early  in  1948,  Brickhouse  was  named 
sports  manager  for  the  Chicago  Tribune's 
three  air  outlets— WGN,  WGN-TV,  and 
WGNB,  the  FM  station. 

The  girl  who  watches  her  television  set  to 
find  out  what  her  husband  is  doing  is  the 
former  Nelda  Teach  of  Peoria.  She  needs  that 
television  viewing  to  remember  what  he 
looks  like  these  days,  for  busy  Brick  carries 
just  about  the  heaviest  TV-announcing 
schedule  in  the  nation. 


46 


RADIO    MLRROR  TELEVISION    SECTION 


2.  By  10,  she's  at  WNBT  rehearsing 
for  Girl  About  Town.  Breakfast?  A 
cup  of  coffee  with  Director  Craig  Allen. 


3.  Hyper-critical  tele-cameras  require 
Kyle  and  Earl  Wrightson  to  rehearse 
3  hours  for  their  20-minute  program. 


i.  Lunch  with  Earl  at  the  Stork  Club 
is  squeezed  between  TV  rehearsal  and 
■'Make   Mine   Manhattan"   matinee. 


IOVELY  Kyle  MacDonnell  is  giving  television  one  of  its 
most  glamorous  programs  (Girl  About  Town,  WNBT, 
8  P.M.  Wed.).  And  TV  is  doing  a  lot  for  Kyle,  whose 
pre -video  claim  to  fame  rested  on  her  performance  in  the 
Broadway  hit  revue,  "Make  Mine  Manhattan."  This  mu- 
tual aid  society  works  well — except  for  New  York  traffic. 
For — with  TV  rehearsals  and  performances  on  one  side 
of  town,  "Manhattan"  rehearsals  and  performances  on 
the  other  side  of  town,  costume,  clothes  and  career  details 
in  between — Kyle's  life  has  become  a  long  series  of  cross- 
town  gallops  during  which  she  leans  out  taxi  windows 
urging  drivers  to  "please  go  faster!"  Here's  an  outline  of 
her  day  in  pictures.  Work  .  .  .  but  fun! 


5.  Hatless,  still  clutching  taxi  change, 
Kyle  arrives  backstage  at  the  Broad- 
hurst — finds    a    phone    call    waiting! 


6.  Matinee  over,  Kyle  dashes  back  to 
WNBT.  By  8,  make-up  and  costume 
must  be  perfect  for  Girl  About  Town. 


H^ 


RADIO    MIRROR  TFjU.VTSTON    SErTTOJ^ 


7.  Run,  don't  walk  is  Kyle's  watch- 
word as  back  to  the  Broadhurst  she 
goes   for   "Manhattan"   evening    show. 

47 


Tootsy  the  Turtle  and  Gertie  the  Goldfish 
help  Wilmer  tell  his  child-enchanting  tales — 
after  Pat  Meikle    (left)   has  drawn  them  all. 


lAlarui 


IF  a  snow-suited  youngster  comes  running  towsird 
the  pigeon  you're  feeding  in  Central  Park  and 
begins  to  yell  happily  to  his  nurse,  "Look,  it's  Wil- 
mer,"— ^he's  been  listening  to  Pat  Meikle's  Dumont 
Kindergarten  on  WABD,  Channel  5. 

Pat's  a  serious  young  lady  in  her  mid-twenties. 
Wilmer,  a  pre-school  age  pigeon,  is  her  co-star  on 
the  show.  Their  sole  co-purpose  in  life  between 
8:30  and  9:00  every  weekday  morning  is  to  keep 
pre-school  children  entertained  while  mama  does 
the  dishes  or  gets  the  older  children  off  to  school. 

Some  of  the  older  kids  don't  want  to  leave.  They 
hke  Pat  and  Wilmer  too — and  such  assorted  "guest 
stars"  as  Tootsy  the  Turtle,  Gertrude  the  Goldfish — 
and  even  Crosby  the  Canary,  named  after  "a  famous 
Mr.  Crosby,"  Wilmer  explains. 

Because  Wilmer  is  merely  a  big  drawing  that  Pat 
produces  with  crayon  and  paper  each  morning,  Wil- 
mer has  to  let  Pat  do  his  talking.  The  children,  of 
course,  know  he  could  talk,  even  if  he  is  a  drawing, 
but  they're  satisfied  with  Pat's  explanation  that 
Wilmer  speaks  only  pigeon  English. 

Although  the  program's  original  idea  and  original 
title  was  "Your  Television  Baby  Sitter,"  it  now 
promises  to  be  i-n-s-t-r-u-c-t-i-v-e.  (This  is  spelled 
out  so  the  children  won't  overhear,  because  they're 
supposed  to  think  the  whole  thing  is  all  in  fun.) 


But  there's  that  alphabet  they're  learning  which 
turns  out  to  be  a  drawing  game  that  any  child  can 
join.  A's  an  arrowhead  with  a  couple  of  straight  little 
legs  attached.  B's  a  straight  line  attached  to  two  big 
bumblebee  wings,  and  of  coxirse  B  stands  for  bum- 
blebee. C  is  a  cup  turned  on  one  side,  and  so  on,  right 
through. 

Pat  always  tells  a  story  about  Wilmer  that  she 
writes  herself,  and  later  in  the  program  she  tells  one 
of  the  fine  fairy  tales.  Her  big  eyes  look  right  at  the 
watching  child,  and  her  face  lights  up  with  the 
excitement  of  the  situation  she's  relating,  just  as 
mommy's  does  "when  she  tells  stories. 

She  is  overcome  with  the  responsibilities  of  her 
show,  and  she  takes  them  very  seriously.  A  Uttle  girl 
got  so  fascinated  with  the  letter  D  which  Pat  had 
taught  that  morning  that  she  drew  big  Ds  all  over 
the  walls  in  her  house.  Wilmer  the  pigeon  had  to 
mention  on  next  day's  program  that  when  he  was 
flying  past  her  house  he  noticed  she  was  drawing 
on  walls  instead  of  paper.  Her  mother  reported  that 
it  worked  just  fine. 

Pat  and  her  actor -husband,  Hal  Cooper,  met  at  the 
U.  of  Michigan,  were  married  during  the  war,  and 
now  Hal  does  aU  the  behind-the-scenes  work  for 
Pat's  show.  Also,  they  do  a  teen-age  show  together 
on  Dumont,  weekdays  at  7:45  A.M. 


48 


WMU-TV 


Top:   Talent  Hunt — ^Jackson 
Weaver,  Ted  Dunlap,  in  a  "book- 
ing  office"   setting,   offer   va- 
riety show.  Below:  The  Modem 
Woman,  emceed  by  Ruth  Cra- 
mer (seated  in  white  lace  skirt) 
discusses  the  intelligent  wom- 
an's   world.    Sometimes    there's 
a    party,    like    the    wedding 
shower  shown.  (Tues.,  7 :15  P.M.) 


Left:  Gene  Archer's 
Music  Shoppe  holds 
songs  together  with 
comedy  (7:10, 
Thurs.)  Right:  On 
TV  Journal,  Johnny 
Bradford  talks 
bout  the  world.  The 
horse  was  a  guest. 
(Sat.,    6:30    P.M.) 


RADI^MIRRO^l^lEVISTOJ^SE^JON 


.^ 


■-^n/ 


i  - 


^^M- 


(umSt  to  (u^oSt  irt 


OPENING  night  tickets  for  the  Metropohtan 
Opera,  even  opening  night  standing  room,  has 
been  the  dream  of  thousands.  But  if  you  v/ere 
within  the  range  of  the  ABC  eastern  television  net- 
work you  had  a  front  row  center  seat  for  Verdi's 
"Otello"  at  your  own  television  set,  courtesy  of  the 
Texaco  Corporation.  Tickets  were  very  nice  to  have 
but  about  the  only  things  you  missed  at  home  were 
the  color  in  the  costviming  and  scenery,  and  the 
glamor  and  excitement  of  the  traditional  first  night 


m. 


Kl 

n 

11 

^ 

- 

ij 

11 

) 

\ 

LL  KJ^  -U 

L  A 

J  -J 

^  \ 

, 

audience  in  all  its  furs  and  finery. 

You  got  some  of  the  latter  in  the  long  shots  of  the 
interior  of  the  Opera  House  and  the  between-the- 
acts  interviews  with  famous  operatic  and  society 
personalities.  Even  a  few  of  the  standees  had  their 
momertts  at  the  mike  and  cameras — the  devotee.s 
who  had  stood  in  line  all  day  in  the  rain  for  the 
privilege  of  standing  through  the  performance. 

It  was  the  first  time  any  stage  production  had 
been  telecast  in  its  entirety  from  the  theater  where 


^1 


Tokio  Hayes'  exhibition  of  paintings  was  well  attend- 
ed:  WPIX  caught  Walter  Abel  and  Gloria  Swanson. 


"Uncle  Danny"  reads  the  funnies  to  Dick  Wigginton 
and   Toby   Sommers   on   WPIX's   Comics   on  Parade. 


RADIO    MIRROR     TELEVISION      SECTION 


WABD's  cameras  cover  producer  Jack  Rayel's 
Sidewalks  of  New  York  interviews  (Mon.-Fri., 
12:45  P.M.)   on  New  York's  Madison  Av6nue. 


WJZ-TV's  telecast  of  "Otello,"  from  the  Met.,  a^ 
caught  opera-goers  between  the  acts.  Gordon  Fraser  (1) 
interviewed  Margaret  Truman,  Dorothy  Kirsten, 
George  Hicks  and  Gladys  Swarthout  in  the  Green  Room. 


it  was  playing.  It  was  the  first  telecast  of  the 
opera.  It  was  the  first  use  of  a  special  infra-red 
light  adapted  especially  for  this  occasion.  Known  as 
"black  light,"  it's  invisible  to  the  audience  but 
effective  for  TV.  The  lighting  might  have  been 
better,  but  that's  not  the  point.  It  was  good,  very 
good,  for  a  "first." 

Milton  Cross,  whose  forte  is  opera  commentary, 
handled  this  one  in  his  usual  capable  way,  and 
George  Hicks  and  Gordon  (Continued  on  page  94) 


Pretty  Tawny  L.   sprawls  lazily  while   chatting  with 
boyfriend  Bugsy  on  the  Tawny  L.  Show,  WPIX,  .Tues. 


CAROLE 
COLEMAN 


IS  the  girl  who  teams  with  dancer  Bill 
Skipper  and  singer  Larry  Douglas  in 
Make  Mine  Music,  on  CBS-TV,  7:45- 
8:00  P.M.  EST,  Monday  through  Friday. 
How  she  signed  a  three-year  contract 
with  CBS-TV  is  quite  a  story. 

Carole  came  from  Charlotte,  N.  C,  a 
few  years  ago,  and  after  a  while  she 
was  understudying  big  names  in  musi- 
cals. She  began  to  dream  of  those  lights 
on  Broadway  that  would  spell  out  her 
name. 

Then  suddenly  one  day  there  was  a 
gap  in  Barry  Wood's  Places,  Please, 
television  program.  Quite  at  random, 
Barry  picked  three  minor  cast  members 
from  "High  Button  Shoes."  They  went 
on  with  hardly  any  rehearsal.  One  of 
them  was  Carole. 

The  big  brass  at  CBS-TV  took  one 
look,  took  another,  signed  her  to  that 
contract.     The  lights  were  turning  on. 


WENDY 
BARRIE 


HAS  BEEN  leading  a  double  life.  Mon- 
day through  Friday,  she's  the  hostess 
of  Inside  Photoplay,  WABD,  4:30-5:00 
EST.-  On  Wednesdays,  at  8:20-8:30 
EST,  she's  hostess  to  the  country's  lead- 
ing cartoonists  on  Picture  This. 

Wendy  is  Irish  and  English,  was  born 
in  China,  went  to  school  in  England  and 
Switzerland,  and  at  seventeen  had  been 
around  the  world  seven  times. 

Hollywood  couldn't  pass  her  up.  She 
made  a  great  number  of  pictures.  But 
real  stardom  was  still  waiting  for  her — 
on  television. 

TV  gives  her  the  scope  for  her  talent, 
her  easy  ad  libs  and  her  quick  wit.  And 
somehow  or  other,  the  warmth  of  her 
personality  comes  right  through  that 
cathode-ray  tube  in  your  set  and  lights 
up  your  living  room. 

Sorry,  boys — she's  married.  He's  a 
New  York  business  man,  David  Meyer 
And  she  says  it's  for  keeps. 


RADIO   MIRROR 


TFrEVfSTON 


SECTTON 


51 


One  of  the  projects 
Johnny  and  Penny 
most  enjoyed  was  the 
party  they  arranged 
for  Pamela  Lamphere 
(head     of    -table). 


jifi  m 


Piggy-back  race  was  won  by  Pam,  with  Basil  Batfabone  her 
steed.     Johnny,    carrying    a    young    guest,    came    in    second. 


YOU  think  radio  stars  have  no  problems? 
That  the  only  worry. is  income  tax  in 
the  lives  of  the  boys  and  girls  who  talk 
happily  into  the  microphones  as  though 
everything  were  just  too,  too  right  with 
the  world? 

Here's  the  story  of  the  Olsons,  Johnny 
and  his  ever-present  Penny,  who,  while 
giving  away  thousands  of  dollars  worth 
of  gifts  to  radio  listeners,  themselves 
owned  only  the  clothes  on  their  backs. 
This  is  how  it  happened: 

You  know  Johnny  and  Fenny.  They've 
visited  with  you. in  the  past  on  Rtimpus 
Room  and  at  various  times  they've  inter- 
viewed you  and  given  you  prizes  on  Ladies 
Be  Seated,  Get  Rich  Quick  and  Whiz  Qiiiz. 
They  long  ago  lost  track  of  the  dollar  value 
of  merchandise  they  have  handed  radio 
listeners. 

Their  bad  luck  started  with  two  tele- 
phone calls. 

The  first  reached  them  in  Chicago  when 
a  veterinarian  phoned  to  say  that  Suzette, 


Johnny  Olson  is  heard  on  What's  My  Name?, 


Giving    things    away    is    a 


thing  Johnny  Olson  enjoys 


doing — for  he   and   Penny 


know  how  it  feels  to  be  given 


something  you  really  want 


\ 


I 


their  beloved  Pekinese,  had  died  while 
they  were  on  tour. 

The  second  came  during  a  broadcast  of 
Get  Rich  Quick  from  ABC's  Radio  City 
studios  in  New  York. 

Phones  don't  ring  in  control  booths  dur- 
ing coast-to-coast  broadcasts.  Network 
operators  simply  say,  "They're  on  the  air. 
Will  you  caU  back?" 

Yet  despite  soundproofing,  Penny,  on 
stage,  heard  the  insistent,  constant  ring  of 
a  telephone  bell.  Through  the  glass  she 
saw  the  frowns  deepen  on  the  faces  of  the 
producer,  director  and  engineer.  Even 
though  it  bothered  them,  they  couldn't 
answer. 

She  could  tell  Johnny  heard  it  too.  She 
could  see  him  grow  tense.  Already  he  was 
tired,  for  Monday  was  their  long  day.  It 
began  with  Rumpus  Room,  continued  with 
their  television  show.  Doorway  to  Fame 
over  WABD,  and  ended  with  a  wild  dash 
up  Manhattan  to  {Continued  on  page  95) 


Saturdays,  11:30  A.  M.  E.S.T.,  on  ABC  Stations. 


It  was  after  Penny  and  Johnny  had  been  "burned  out"  that  they 
learned  how  it  felt  to  be  ou  the  receiving  end.  Their  fami- 
lies gave  them  a  gift  shower  to  replenish  their  household 
stores;    one    replacement    was    a    beautiful    handmade    quilt. 


53 


ik 


MY  HUSBAND 


By  VIRGINIA  McCURDY   YOUN( 


Alan's  not  exactly  a  handy  man  around  the  house.  Even 
a   simple  badminton  net  takes  all  four  Young  hands. 


Blind  date  .  .  .  with  a  comedian? 


Never,  said  Gini.   And  that  was  where 


she  was  very  nearly  wrong 


But  he's  many  things  that,  for  a  husband,  are  more  impor- 
tant— cheerful,  warm-hearted,  thoughtful.    And  sentimental! 


IT  WAS  late  one  afternoon  back  around  the  begin- 
ning of  the  year  1946  when  my  agent  telephoned 

me.  The  place,  New  York  City. 

"Gini,  will  you  do  me  a  favor?"  he  began.  I  thought 
he  was  about  to  ask  me  to  do  a  benefit  show — there 
was  that  tone  in  his  voice.  I  wouldn't  have  been  sur- 
prised. I  was  understudying  Ella  Logan  for  a  Broad- 
way show  at  the  time  and  also  singing  in  the  Four 
Chicks  and  a  Chuck  group  on  radio;  benefits  were 
routine.  My  answer,  as  I  remember  it,  was  something 
highly  original  like  "I'll  try." 

"Gini,  will  you  join  us  on  a  double  date  tonight  with 
a  cUent  of  mine?    The  girl  he  was  to  go  with  has 


developed  a  bad  cold  and  she  can't  make  it." 

"Frank  Cooper,"  I  retorted — ^logically,  since  that  was 
and  is  his  name — "I  loathe  blind  dates.  You're  an 
enterprising,  talented  and  honest  agent.  Don't  get  out 
of  character  trying  to  play  Cupid." 

"Gtni,  listen.  You'll  like  this  chap.  He's  a  young 
comedian.  ..." 

"A  comic?  Oh,  no!  Blind  dates  are  bad  enough 
without  that!" 

"Well,  this  one  is  different.  He's  quiet.  And  he's  tail 
and  blond  and  has  blue  eyes  and  you'll  like  him.  He's 
practically  shy!" 

I  won't  bore  you  with  the  {Continued  on  page  79) 


54 


Alan  Young  is  heard  on  his  own  program,  Tuesdays,  8:30  I*.  M.  EST,  and  on  the  Jimmy  Durante  Show,  Fridays,  8:30  P.M.  EST,  ou  NBC. 


r 


A  very  youig  contestant  joins 
Tom  Moore  for  a  song-hint. 


When    Aunt    Jemima    talks 
about  food,  everyone  listens! 


nimri 


This  big  Chicago  program  is  always  a  party.     Here's  yovir  invitation! 


YOUR  ticket  to  Ladies  Be  Seated, 
which  Radio  Mirror  brings  you  this 
month  on  these  pages,  is  going  to 
admit  you  into  one  of  the  fastest,  fun- 
niest— and  most  colorful — ^half  hovu-s 
you've  ever  enjoyed.  Against  the  gold- 
toned  backdrop  of  the  stage.  Aunt 
Jemima's  vivid  calico  clothes  balance 
the  brilliance  of  M.C.  Tom  Moore's  very 
special  raiment.  Tom  may  start  the 
show  in  a  bright  green  Prince  Albert 
with  an  orange  weskit  and  finish  in  a 
somber  purple  swallow-tail.  (He 
changes  clothes  at  the  program's  mid- 
point, when  he  changes  sponsors.) 
Whatever  he's  wearing,  you  get  a  good 
look  at  it  as  he  circulates  through  the 
audience,    microphone    alert    to    catch 


your  answer  to  his  questions-in-song. 
For  example,  he  may  sing:  "Let  me  call 
.  .  ."  and  if  your  answer  is  ".  .  .  you 
sweetheart,"  up  you  go  to  the  stage  as  a 
contestant.  From  there  on  out,  of  course, 
the  melody-quiz  gets  more  diBBcult.  But 
the  prizes  are  well  worth  your  -most 
concentrated  effort.  If  you  keep  on  be- 
ing right,  you  may  leave  the  big  Mer- 
chandise Mart  studio  with  a  diamond 
ring,  a  chest  of  silver,  a  lounging  chair. 
The  day  you're  there,  Tom  may  have 
himself  brought  in  on  a  stretcher.  But 
there'll  be  nothing  pale  or  weak  about 
the  fun  he  master-minds  when  the 
show  gets  started!  Ladies  Be  Seated  is 
an  ABC  Monday-through-Friday  fea- 
ture, at  2  P.M.  CST,  3  P.M.  EST. 


Producer  Phil  Patton  looks  as  solemn  as  a  professor  but  the  zany 
stunts  he  thinks  up  for  the  show  have  a  different  kind  of  wit. 


Why  wouldn't  they  crowd  into  the  studio  well  before  air-time? 
Some  of  them  are  going  to  come  out  of  it  with  diamonds,  silver. 


56 


Ji"*''sp*^ 


^  -^i 


p        .j 


<.! 


I 


When    the    Dennings    (Richard,    right)    visit    the 
Amazes    (Lucille,  left)   the  visit  may  begip  .  .  • 


.  .  .  with  gin  rnmmy  for  the  men    (that's  Desi, 
Lucille    Ball's    real   husband,    on   the    left)    .   .    . 


..%o 


•  •  ••  • 


2  .  TTvi  -.  '*^t 


IcuvmiE 


By  RICHARD  DENNING 


AFTER  twenty  weeks  of  playing  "Mr."  to  Lucille 
Ball's  "Mrs."  on  My  Favorite  Hxisband  on  CBS,  I 
find  that  I  have  a  favorite  husband  of  my  own. 
He's  my  wife's. 

Now  in  case  that  first  sentence  confuses  everyone 
else  as  much  as  it  does  me,  I'll  put  it  this  way: 

I  think  Desi  Amaz,  Lucille's  real  husband,  is  great. 

I  had  never  met  either  of  the  happy-wacky 
Arnazes  before  Lucille  and  I  got  together  across  a 
microphone  and  I  didn't  know  what  I'd  been  miss- 
ing. 

Until  you  get  acquainted  with  Lucille  and  Desi 
on  their  own  home  grounds,  you  haven't  lived. 

Soon  after  the  show  got  rolHng,  Lucille  asked  me 
quite  casually  to  bring  Evelyn — Evelyn  is  Evelyn 
Ankers,  my  wife — out  for  a  Saturday  afternoon  at 
their  house. 

"If  Desi  feels  like  cooking,"  she  said  tentatively, 
"you  can  stay  for  dinner." 

Their  place  is  in  Northridge — the  swell-ranch  covm- 
tiy  about  twenty  miles  north  of  Hollywood. 

We  were  a  httle  late.  For  one  thing,  Northridge 
is  one  of  those  places  people  in  Hollywood  talk  about 
as  just  over  the  hill,  and  it  isn't.  It's  a  lot  farther 
than  you  think.  And  for  another  thing,  Evelyn  and 
I  slowed  down  at  every  fancy  ranch  gate  we  saw  after 


we  turned  onto  Devonshire,  which  is  the  Amazes' 
street. 

We  were  surprised  when  we  came  to  a  very  simple 
wooden  gate  where  there  was  no  house  visible  at  all, 
to  find  that  the  numbers  on  the  mailbox  matched  the 
numbers  on  the  map  Lucille  had  draAvn  to  show  us 
the  way. 

We  drove  in  through  a  line  of  orange  trees  and 
there  was  a  house — a  lot  of  houses,  in  fact,  low  and 
scattered,  somewhat  as  though  they  had  been  thiown 
there  out  of  an  airplane. 

We  rang  the  bell  at  the  biggest  one  and  Lucille 
popped  it  open. 

"We're  sorry  to  be  late  ..."  I  began.  "We  thought 
it  would  be — " 

"Don't  say  it,"  she  said,  "Everybody  says  it,  and 
they  sound  so  disappointed.  'Why,  we  thought  you 
lived  in  that  big  place  up  the  road.' 

"We'll  impress  you  yet,"  she  added  Vidth  a  grin. 
"  'Desilou'  is  a  lot  bigger  than  it  was  when  we  moved 
in  nine  years  ago.  Come  on  in.  Desi  will  be  along  in 
a  minute.   He's  cooking." 

We  came  into  a  room  which  was  so  riotous  with 
color  that  Lucille's  flaming  hair  seemed  no  longer 
particularly  remarkable. 

Wallpaper  on  the  walls,    {Continued   on  page  92) 


11 


58 


Lucille  Ball  is  Mrs.  Cugat,  Richard  Denning  is  Mr.  Cngat,  on  My  Favorite  Husband,  Saturdays,  7  P.M.  EST,  CBS. 


.   .   .   becanse   the    girls    are   busy    going    over 
Lncille's  treasure-trove  (Evelyn  Denning,  right) . 


Generally,  a  man  with  two  wives 

is  a  man  in  trouble.    But,  for  a  radio 

star,  it's  simple  .  .  .  one  wife  is 

real,  one  make-believe,  both  wonderful 


But  the  division  doesn't  last — Desi's 
rhythm  reminds  them  that  they've  all 
got  the  same  kind  of  nmsic^in  their  bloods 


When    the    Dennings    (Richard,    right)    visit    the 
Arnazea    (Lucille,  left)    the  visit   may  begin   .  .  . 


.  .  .  with   gin  rammy  for  the  men    (that's  Desi 
Lacille    Ball's    real    hnsband,    on    the    left) 


T 


.    .    .   because   ibe    girls    are   busy    going    over 
Lncille's  treasure-trove  (Evelyn  Denning,  right) . 


Generally,  a  man  with  two  wives 

is  a  man  in  trouble.    But,  for  a  radio 

star,  it's  simple  ...  one  wife  is 

real,  one  make-believe,  both  wonderful 


aj\mIIE 


f 


By  RICHARD  DENNING 


AFTER  twenty  weeks  of  playing  "Mr."  to  Lucille 
Ball's  "Mrs."  on  My  Favorite  Husband  on  CBS,  I 
find  that  I  have  a  favorite  husband  of  my  own. 
He's  my  wife's. 

Now  in  case  that  first  sentence  confuses  everyone 
else  as  much  as  it  does  me,  I'll  put  it  this  way: 

I  think  Desi  Amaz,  Lucille's  real  husband,  is  great. 

I  had  never  met  either  of  the  happy-wacky 
Arnazes  before  Lucille  and  I  got  together  across  a 
microphone  and  I  didn't  know  what  I'd  been  miss- 
ing. 

Until  you  get  acquainted  with  Lucille  and  Desi 
on  their  own  home  groimds,  you  haven't  lived. 

Soon  after  the  show  got  rolling,  Lucille  asked  me 
quite  casually  to  bring  Evelyn— Evelyn  is  Evelyn 
Ankers,  my  wife— out  for  a  Saturday  afternoon  at 
their  house. 

"If  Desi  feels  like  cooking,"  she  said  tentatively, 
"you  can  stay  for  dinner." 

Their  place  is  in  Northridge— the  swell-ranch  coun- 
try about  twenty  miles  north  of  Hollywood. 

We  were  a  httle  late.  For  one  thing,  Northridge 
is  one  of  those  places  people  in  Hollywood  talk  about 
as  just  over  the  hill,  and  it  isn't.  It's  a  lot  farther 
than  you  think.  And  for  another  thing,  Evelyn  and 
I  slowed  down  at  every  fancy  ranch  gate  we  saw  after 


we  turned  onto  Devonshire,  which  is   the  Amazes 
street. 

We  were  surprised  when  we  came  to  a  very  simple 
wooden  gate  where  there  was  no  house  visible  at  all, 
to  find  that  the  numbers  on  the  mailbox  matched  the 
numbers  on  the  map  Lucille  had  drawn  to  show  n.s 
the  way. 

We  drove  in  through  a  line  of  orange  trees  and 
there  was  a  house — a  lot  of  houses,  in  fact,  low  and 
scattered,  somewhat  as  though  they  had  been  thrown 
there  out  of  an  airplane. 

We  rang  the  bell  at  the  biggest  one  and  Lucille 
popped  it  open. 

"We're  sorry  to  be  late  ..."  I  began.  "We  thought 
it  would  be — " 

"Don't  say  it,"  she  said,  "Everybody  says  it,  and 
they  sound  so  disappointed.  'Why,  we  thought  you 
lived  in  that  hig  place  up  the  road.' 

"We'U  impress  you  yet,"  she  added  vrith  a  grin 
"  'Desilou'  is  a  lot  bigger  than  it  was  when  we  moved 
in  nine  years  ago.  Come  on  in.  Desi  will  be  along  in 
a  minute.   He's  cooking." 

We  came  into  a  room  which  was  so  riotous  with 
color  that  Lucille's  flaming  hair  seemed  no  longer 
particularly  remarkable. 

Wi^Jpaper  on   the  walls,    (Continued   on  page  92) 


S8 


LucUIe  BaU  ia  Mr..  Cugot.  Richnrd  Denning  is  Mr.  Cugat,  on  My  Favorite  Husband,  Saturdays.  7  P.M.  EST,  CBS. 


But  the  division  doesn't  ksl— Desi's 
rhythm  reminds  them  thot  they've  all 
got  the  some  kind  of  music  in  their  blood. 


^^ 


n 


omen 


K 


Mary  Margaret  won't 

stay  in  the  kitchen,  and  her 

audience  proves  a  lot  of 

other  women  feel  the  same  way 


EVEN  if  Mary  Margaret  McBride  wanted  to — ^which  is 
doubtful — there's  probably  no  way  she  could  escape 
being  called  the  First  Lady  of  Radio.  Too  many  eager 
female  listeners  stand  ready  to  defend  to  the  death  her 
right  to  this  title.  There's  no  question,  either,  of  her  strong 
claim  to  a  high  rank  among  radio's  best  salesmen.  Her 
breathless,  chatty  commercials  have  sold  so  much  of  every- 
thing, from  life  insurance  to  syrup,  that  no  sponsor  would 
dare  request  a  greater  degree  of  formahty  in  the  handling 
of  his  advertisement  than  Mai-y  Margetret  is  prepared  to 
give  it.  It's  enough  that  she's  willing  to  endorse  a  product 
at  all,  for  her  listeners  know  that  she  isn't  merely  reading 
the  product's  label:  anything  testable,  Msiry  Margaret  has 
put  to  the  test  herself. 

Bom  on  a  Missouri  farm,  Mary  Margaret  worked  her 
way  through  the  state  vmiversity,  often  so  short  of  money 
that  she  lunched  on  half  a  chocolate  bar.  (That's  very 
likely  why  it's  so  easy,  even  now,  to  txim  her  thoughts  to 
food.  And  where  her  thoughts  turn,  there  turns  her  con- 
versation; a  program  that  starts  out  with  contemporary 
art  may  easily  wind  up  with  Mary  Margaret's  version  of 
the  ideal  dinner  menu.)  By  way  of  cub  reporting  in 
Mexico,  Missovu-i,  and  Cleveland,  Mary  Margaret  finally 
worked  her  way  to  New  York's  Greenwich  Village  and  a 
feature-writing  job  with  the  old  New  York  Mail.  She 
followed  this  with  traveling  assignments  that  took  her  all 
over  the  States  and  Europe  for  leading  magazines,  and 
wound  up  as  the  author  of  eleven  books. 

In  1934,  when  Mary  Margaret  became  "Martha  Dean"  on 
a  local  New  York  station,  she  almost  made  a  mistake.  She 
started  out  being  exclusively  a  homemaker.  But  instinct 
swiftly  told  her  she  wasn't  "jelling"  in  this  role,  so  she 
carne  out  of  the  kitchen  and  relaxed  into  the  chat-about- 
anything  technique  which  has  crystalhzed  into  her  present 
radio  personality. 

Undoubtedly,  some  of  Mary  Margaret's  success  with  the 
ladies  is  due  to  the  phenomenon  of  "identification."  When 
listeners  hear  her  exasperated  mutterings  as  she  tries  to 
find  a  misplaced  note  among  her  papers,  they. can't  help 
thinking  of  all  the  misplaced  telephone  nvimbers  cluttering 
up  their  own  purses.  And — in  spite  of  the  fact  that  a  staff 
of  twelve  does  careful  research  for  every  broadcast — Mary 
Margaret's  broadcasting  manner  would  not  disillusion  her 
radio  friends  into  mistaking  her  for  a  high-pressure  exec- 
utive. Informal,  friendly,  woman-to-woman — ^that's  the 
Mary  Margaret  the  studio  audience  (a  small  one)  sees, 
and  the  radio  audience  hears.    And   the  ladies   love   it! 


The  Mary  Margaret  McBride  Show  is  heard  at  1  P.M.  EST 
Monday  through  Friday,  wherever  WNBC  can  be  tuned  in. 


One  of  Mary  Margaret's  most  memorable  gnest^,  a 

while  back,  was  Eleanor  Roosevelt  (1.).  With  them,  a  group 

of  Coldwyn  Girls  who  helped  decorate  the  broadcast. 


The  foods  Mary  Margaret  advertises  are  first  well 
tested,  and  products  that  do  not  meet  her  standards  are 
turned  down.    There's  always  another  sponsor  along! 


61 


A  particularly  rousing  cheer  for  cheesecake,  smooth  and  creamy  and  melt-in-your-month. 
Serve  it,  and  you'll  know  you've  found  one  of  the  best  possible  ways  to  a  man's  heart! 


\%m^Uami^ 


GRANDMA  liked  good  food,  too.  What  she 
called  a  light  supper  was  sure  to  end  up 
being  a  hearty  one.  She'd  serve  a  big  bowl  of 
steaming  soup,  hot  biscuits  and  a  crisp  salad. 
Then,  the  main  part  of  her  meal  would  be  the 
dessert.  I'll  never  forget  her  yummy  cheese  cake 
— rich,  and  oh,  so  smooth! 

So,  many  times,  I  purposely  plan  my  menu 
backwards  and  start  with  the  dessert.  Those  with 
cheese,  I  think,  must  be  my  favorites.  Cheese  is 
hearty  enough  for  light  Lenten  meals.  Because 
it's  made  mostly  of  milk,  cheese  is  rich  in  food 
value.  It  is  comparatively  low  in  price,  too.  Most 
of  all,  cheese  can  be  fixed  in  so  many  different 
irresistible  desserts. 

A  cheese  tray  is  perhaps  the  simplest  way  to 
use  cheese  as  a  dessert,  especially  if  you  serve 
cheeses  of  different  flavor,  color  and  consistency. 
Have  several  different  kinds  of  crackers  on  the 
tray.  Include  one  familiar  soft  cheese  such  as 
cream,  cottage  or  the  commercially  processed 
cheeses.  Guests  may  prefer  their  mildness  to  that 
of  the  nippy,  unusual  flavors.  The  mellow  ones, 
like  Camembert,  Brie,  or  Leiderkranz  are  served 
with  crisp  crackers.  The  firm  Swiss,  Edam,  and 
Cheddar  types  of  cheese  call  for  buttered  wafers. 
It's  ftm  to  have  a  "specialty" — a  home-made 
cheese  spread  whose  flavor  builds  up  your  "host- 
ess rating." 

The  ones  I've  included  may  be  changed  to  suit 
your  individual  taste.  Or  use  them  as  a  starting 
point  for  developing  something  new  of  your  very 
own. 

Mild  cream  cheese  served  with  fruit  on  the 
side  is  an  exceptionally  good  dessert.  Preserved 
or  candied  figs  or  a  clear  guava  jelly  are  won- 
derful with  cream  cheese.  Perhaps  Bar-le-Duc, 
the  sophisticated  combination  of  French  currants 
preserved  in  honey,  appeals  to  you. 

Cheese   Cake  with   Cornflakes   Topping 

4  cups  cornflakes 
Va  cup  confectioner's  sugar 

1  tbsp.  cinnamon 

%  cup  melted  butter  or  margarine 

3  envelopes  unflavored  gelatin 
1%  cups  water,  divided 

%  cup  sugar 

4  eggs,  separated 

3  cups  (1%  lbs.)  cottage  cheese 

2  tbsps.  grated  lemon  rind 

3  tbsps.  lemon  juice 
%  tsp.  salt 

1^2  cups  cream  or  evaporated  mUk,  whipped 


By 

KATE  SMITH 

RADIO  MIRROR 

FOOD    COUNSELOR 


listen  to   Kate  Smith  Speaks,   beard   Monday    through 
Friday   at  12  Noon,  EST,    on   Mutual  network   stations. 


Crush  the  cornflakes  into  fine  crumbs.  Mix  well 
with  confectioner's  sugar,  cinnamon  and  butter. 
Press  half  into  the  bottom  of  a  well  greased 
9-inch  spring  form.  Soak  the  gelatin  in  %  cup 
cold  water  about  5  minutes.  Beat  egg  yolks 
slightly.  Place  in  a  saucepan  with  the  other  % 
cup  water  and  the  sugar.  Cook  until  slightly 
thickened  on  medium  temperature  about  three 
minutes.  Remove  from  heat.  Add  cottage  cheese 
which  has  been  rubbed  through  a  sieve.  Stir  in 
lemon  rind,  juice  and  salt.  Cool.  Fold  in  stiffly 
beaten  egg  whites  and  mix  until  smooth.  Then 
gently  fold  in  the  whipped  cream  or  evaporated 
milk.  (To  whip  the  latter,  first  chiU  thoroughly 
by  storing  overnight  in  refrigerator.)  Pour  cake 
mixture  onto  crumbs  in  spring  form.  Top  with 
remaining  crumb  mixture.  Chill  in  refrigerator 
until  firm.  Unmold.  Makes  12  to  14  servings. 

Liptauer   Cheese   Spread 

2  packages  (6  ounces)  cream  cheese 
Vi  cup  butter 
1  tsp.  capers 

1  tsp.  paprika 

2  tsps.  anchovy  paste 

1  tbsp.  finely  chopped  scallion  or  green  onion 
Vz  tsp.  caraway  seed 
V2  tsp.  salt 

Cream  the  cheese  in  a  bowl.  Blend  in  the  butter 
until  smooth.  Add  the  remaining  ingredients. 
Blend  well  with  a  rubber  scraper.  Press  into  small 
mold  or  form  into  a  roll  in  waxed  paper.  Cover  or 
wrap  well  and  season  in  refrigerator.  Serve  on 
cheese  tray  with  plain  crackers.  Makes  1  cup  of 
spread.  (Continued  on  page  91) 


RADIO      MIRROR      FOR       BETTER       LIVING 


R 
M 

63 


n 


m 


RADIO  MIRROR 
READER  RONUS 


64 


FRED  ALLEN  says  to  Fred  Allen,  "Take  a  letter!" 
So  Fred  Allen  sits  down  at  his  portable  type- 
writer and  knocks  out  another  pungently-worded 
epistle.  He's  at  it  day  and  night,  week  after  week, 
year  in,  year  out. 

As  thousands  of  people  must  already  know,  Fred's 
personal  stationery  is  decorated  with  a  shrewdly 
drawn  sketch  of  himself  done  by  the  inimitable 
theatrical  artist,  Hirschf  eld.  It  pictures  Fred  seated  at 
his  desk,  buried  deep  in  thought.  And  buried,  also, 
beneath  stacks  of  scripts,  news-clippings  and  corre- 
spondence. It's  a  clever  caricature,  but  it  also  gives 
you  a  fairly  accurate  glimpse  of  Allen's  chief  pre- 
occupation during  most  of  his  waking  hours. 

"He's  the  hardest-working  man  I  know,"  declares 
Jack  Haley,  stage-radio-screen  comedy  star  and 
friend  of  Allen's  for  more  than  twenty-five  years. 
"When  Fred  is  invited  over  to  someone's  house,  I'm 
sure  Portland  has  to  beg  him  not  to  take  his  type- 
writer along.  If  he  isn't  working  on  a  script,  you 
can  bet  he's  busy  writing  letters." 

A  different  side  of  the  Allen  personality  is  seen  by 
another  of  Fred's  old  vaudeville  cronies,  the  veteran 
comic,  dramatic  actor  and  jokester,  Benny  Rubin. 
"Fred  was  always  quick,  mentally  and  physically," 
he'll  tell  you.  "Not  many  people  are  aware  of  it,  but 
Fred  was  a  great  boxer — could  have  been  champion 
in  his  own  weight.  He  always  had  the  priceless  gift 
of  being  able  to  concentrate  on  a  problem  until  he 
had  it  solved.  He  could  have  been  a  success  at 
anything.  He  chose  to  be  a  successful  entertainer." 

Obviously,  there  is  more  than  one  side  to  the  Allen 
story  ...  so  many  angles,  legends  and  anecdotes  that 
confusion  is  the  result  unless  his  story  is  unfolded  in 
fairly  chronological  fashion. 

The  starting  point  is  Cambridge,  Massachusetts,  on 
May  31,  1894.  That's  when  a  son  was  born  to  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  James  Henry  Sullivan.  The  boy  was  christened 
John  Florence.  Four  years  later  John's  mother  died, 
and  Mr.  Sullivan,  a  man  who  earned  only  a  meager 
living  at  the  bookbinder's  trade,  moved  in  with  his 
sister  Elizabeth,  on  Bayard  Street. 

"Dad  was  the  local  humorist,"  Fred  recalls.  "Always 
ready  with  a  joke  or  a  gag.  He  died  while  I  was  still 
a  kid  in  school.  I  like  to  think  I  inherited  dad's  wit. 
Of  course,  if  I'm  only  fifty  percent  correct  in  this 
belief  .  .  ." 

Aunt  Elizabeth  took  over  the  job  of  John  Florence 


Sullivan's  upbringing.  With  what  equalled  a  mother's 
devotion,  she  guided  him  through  all  his  childhood 
troubles  and  growing  pains.  She  sent  him  first  to 
parochial  school  and  later  to  Boston's  High  School 
of  Commerce. 

Nowadays,  Fred  Allen  speaks  of  that  school  with 
noticeable  pride.  "Commerce  High  was  one  of  the 
first  to  equip  youngsters  who  came  from  poor 
families  with  a  really  practical  education,"  he  says. 
"We  were  trained  to  step  right  into  useful  jobs  be- 
cause, for  most  of  us,  college  was  out  of  the  question. 
A  lot  of  the  fellows  who  graduated  from  Commerce 
High  later  became  leaders  in  their  respective  fields. 
Why,  Mayor  Tobin  of  Boston  was  one  of  them.  Later, 
he  became  Governor  of  Massachusetts  and  now  he's 
Secretary  of  Labor." 

Fred  (known  as  "Twit"  to  his  school  chums)  took 
the  commercial  course  and,  along  with  it,  economics 
and  languages.  Fred  liked  to  clown  around  but  high 
marks  consistently  appeared  on  his  report  card.  He 
was  a  good  student  and  a  good  athlete,  too  .  .  .  notably 
a  fast,  long-limbed  forward  on  the  junior  basketball 
team,  which  won  many  an  interclass  championship.  It 
is  also  recalled  that  Fred  edited,  single-handed,  a 
one-page  daily  school  paper.  Its  columns  were  loaded 
with  news — and  with  wisecracks  concerning  students 
and  teachers  alike. 

Outside  of  school,  Fred  played  sand-lot  baseball  and 
all  the  other  kid  games.  He  had  another  not-so-usual 
boyhood  hobby — attending  vaudeville  shows.  They 
fascinated  him.  Every  spare  nickel  he  could  muster 
was  hoarded  for  his  regular  weekly  admission  to 
variety  shows  at  B.  F.  Keith's  or  the  old  Columbia 
Theater  on  Washington  Street. 

Those  days,  however,  nickels  were  not  plentiful  at 
Aunt  Elizabeth's  house.  Fred  fully  realized  that  fact 
and  so  he  decided  to  pick  up  a  few  nickels  of  his  own. 
He  took  a  part-time  job  .  .  .  and  perhaps  the  Fred 
Allen  story  really  begins  here. 

It  was  in  the  bookish  atmosphere  of  Boston's  Public 
Library  that  Fred  first  began  to  develop  his  talents  as 
an  entertainer.  After  school  hours,  he  worked  as 
stackboy  down  in  the  library's  vast  basement,  which 
contained  a  million-odd  volumes  dealing  with  just 
about  every  subject  under  the  sun.  His  wages  were 
twenty  cents  per  hour.  (Today,  all  Fred  Allen  need 
do  is  peck  out  a  measly  little  semicolon  on  that  type- 
writer of  his  and  he's  richer  by  twenty  dollars!) 


The  Fred  Allen  story  proves 


that  comics  are  both  born  and  made. 


Born  with  wit,  made  by  hard, 


hard  work.  Plus  that  something  extra  .  .  . 


As  John  Florence   Sullivan,  he  practiced  juggling 
when  he  was  supposed  to  be  stacking  library  books. 


_fi5_ 


THE  LIFE  OF  FRED  ALLEN 


Since  that  head  of  his  contained  a  lively  and  in- 
quisitive mind,  Fred  took  full  advantage  of  his  sur- 
roundings. At  off  moments,  he  packed  in  plenty  of 
book-learning.  One  fateful  day  he  came  across  a 
tattered  volume  on  the  technique  of  juggling.  On  that 
day,  the  die  was  cast  .  .  .  the  pattern  of  his  future 
was  set. 

To  keep  half  a  dozen  bright  objects  spinning  and 
tossing  in  mid-air,  his  deft  hands  never  faltering  for 
a  moment;  smooth,  self-assured,  while  out  beyond  the 
fqotlights  his  audience  watched  breathless,  spell- 
bound— such  was  the  dream  inspired  by  Fred's  newly- 
discovered  book.  Visions  of  future  greatness  on  the 
stage  beckoned,  but  common  sense  told  him  the  dream 
would  never  come  true  unless  he  practiced  untiringly. 

He  did  just  that,  day  and  night,  at  home  and  down  in 
the  library  stack  room.  At  length,  he  mastered  one 
little  trick.  Crooking  his  right  elbow,  he  would  place 
a  book  on  it  and  then  let  it  slide  off.  Quick  as  light- 
ning, his  right  hand  would  dart  after  the  falling  book, 
catching  it  an  instant  before  it  hit  the  floor. 

After  putting  a  polish  on  that  one,  he  went  on  to 
more  ambitious  things.  His  fellow-employees  began 
getting  butterfly  stomach  as  they  watched  him  prac- 
tice with  pencils,  golf  balls  and  the  supervisor's  derby 
hat.  Before  many  months  passed,  their  jitters  gave 
way  to  undisguised  admiration.  Fred  was  missing 
and  fumbling  only  half  of  the  time.  And,  at  long  last, 
when  the  library's  staff  held  its  annual  entertainment, 
the  snappy  juggling  act  put  on  by  that  kid  from  the 
stack  room  was  a  high  spot  on  the  program. 

A  real,  honest-to-goodness  audience  had  applauded 
his  very  first  performance.  To  Fred's  way  of  think- 
ing, that  applause  was  practically  a  mandate.  It  said: 
"Son,  this  is  your  profession.    Get  busy." 

In  the  year  1910,  America's  high-brow  minority 
could  turn  to  drama,  concerts  and  the  opera  for  its 
amusement.  But  for  the  vast  majority,  there  was 
only  vaudeville.  No  radio,  no  movies  .  .  .  just  vaude- 
ville. 

And,  in  the  Boston  of  1910,  there  were  two  types  of 
vaudeville.  Type  One  was  the  legitimate  kind,  the 
Big  Time  which  brought  to  town  all  the  really  im- 
portant headliners.  Type  Two  was  a  relatively  new 
racket  called  Amateur  Night.  As  applied  here,  that 
word  racket  meant  an  almost  unlimited  supply  of 
local  talent,  dirt  cheap,  available  for  every  promoter 
of  stage  shows.    It  also  meant  audiences  so  infernally 


Aunt    Elizabeth    Lovely — Fred's    "second    mother." 


tough  and  noisy  that  anyone  who  voluntarily  ap- 
peared on  a  stage  before  them  could  rightly  be  re- 
garded as  a  candidate  for  the  lunatic  asylum. 

Fred  had  his  choice  of  several  Type  Two  theaters. 
His  public,  armed  with  ripe  tomatoes  and  rotten  eggs, 
was  waiting  for  him  and  he  chose  to  make  his  debut 
at  the  old  Hub  Theater. 

"Only,"  says  Fred  Allen,  "I  usually  refer  to  that 
vaudeville  house  as  the  Pandemonium.  It  was  that 
noisy." 

Wearing  his  best  suit,  his  latest-style  notched  collar 
and  his  pointed  tan  shoes,  Fred  stood  in  the  wings 
waiting  to  go  on.  On  stage  ^  would-be  basso  profundo 
was  bellowing  "Asleep  In  The  Deep"  while  at  the 
same  time  trying  to  avoid  being  hit  by  a  variety  of 
ancient  vegetables  hurled  by  hooligans  in  the  audi- 
ence.   He  was  more  agile  than  talented. 


The  beginning  of  a  long, profitable  (and fake)  feud:  Benny  faces  Allen  when  both  were  new  in  radio. 


"Holy  smoke!"  Fred  muttered  to  himself.  "If  they'll 
do  that  to  a  guy  who  can  actually  sing,  what'll  they 
do  to  me?    I'm  not  really  a  juggler." 

Out  front,  the  audience  booed,  howled  and  cat- 
called. The  pit  band  struck  up  lively  exit  music.  The 
basso  profundo  was  finished. 

"And  next,  ladeez  and  gennelmen,"  trumpeted  the 
master  of  ceremonies,  "we  give  you  Young  Sullivan, 
The  Talking  Juggler!" 

"B-o-o-o!" 

"Get  the  hook!" 

"I  went  into  my  act  frightened  silly,"  Fred  relates. 
"As  I  missed  one  trick  after  another,  I  kept  up  a 
frantic  monologue  to  cover  my  fumbling.  For  in- 
stance, as  I'd  drop  a  hat  or  a  plate,  I'd  say,  'Now,  that 
there  was  a  mighty  difficult  trick,  folks.  You  should 
have  been  here  last  night  when  I  did  it.'  At  least,  I 
was  trying  to  get  alleged  witticisms  like  that  across 
but,  against  all  the  uproar,  I  didn't  stand  a  chance." 

Finally,  Fred  finished  and  ran  off.  He  was  met  in 
the  wings  by  the  house  manager  who  growled,  "I 
heard  some  of  that  patter,  boy,  but  the  audience 
didn't.  There's  another  amateur  contest  here  next 
week.  Come  back  and  really  live  up  to  your  billing  as 
The  Talking  Juggler." 

One  week  later,  Fred  returned  to  confront  another 
bloodthirsty  audience  at  the  Hub.  He  was  more 
confident,  he  talked  louder  and  he  won  the  first  prize. 
Something  of  greater  importance,  however,  was  the 
outcome  of  that  return  engagement.  As  Fred  left  the 
theater,  tired  but  triumphant,  he  encountered  the 
man  who  was  going  to  play  a  significant  part  in  that 
early  phase  of  his  career. 

Sam  Cohen  was  a  big,  good-natured  fellow.  His 
original  profession  was  that  of  circus  strong  man  and, 
during  the  season,  he  toured  with  various  tent  shows 
throughout  the  neighboring  states.  With  the  ap- 
proach of  winter,  though,  Sam  would  return  to  Bos- 
ton where  he  had  built  up  a  solid  reputation  as  New 
England's  leading  booker  of  amateur  talent. 

To  state  it  more  accurately,  Sam  had  amateur 
nights  in  Boston  and  environs  in  the  bag.  He  made  a 
pretty  permy  out  of  his  operations  but  it  was  profit- 
able for  all  concerned.  "The  theater  managers  were 
provided  with  an  entire  evening's  program  in  one 
convenient  package,  and  the  stage-struck  kids  who 
aspired  to  stardom  were  assured  of  steady  engage- 
ments on  the  Sam  Cohen  Circuit.  Maybe  it  wasn't 
B.  F.  Keith's,  but  it  was  a  start  in  show  business. 

Sam  outlined  all  these  advantages  within  one  min- 
ute after  introducing  himself  to  "The  Talking  Juggler 
and,  as  of  that  moment,  figured  large  in  Fred's  scheme 
of  things.  Under  Cohen's  management,  Fred  became 
a  professional-amateur  and  was  booked  seven  nights 
a  week,  each  night  at  a  different  theater.  It  was 
Cohen's  system  to  send  his  boys  out  in  teams,  or  units, 
of  five.  Pretty  soon,  Fred  became  a  team  captain  .  .  . 
recognition  not  only  of  his  artistic  merit  but  also  of 
his  honesty.  It  was  Fred's  job  to  bring  back  the 
team's  winnings  to  Cohen. 

"Winnings"  was  a  highfalutin  word.  After  every 
performance  the  theater's  master  of  ceremonies  would 
line  up  his  crew  of  magicians,  comics,  jugglers,  tenors 
and  tumblers.  He  would  then  hold  a  fistful  of  dollar 
bills  over  each  of  their  heads.  The  volume  of  ap- 
plause coming  from  the  audience  decided  which  of 
them  had  won  the  ten  dollar  prize,  the  five  dollar 
prize  and  the  three  dollar  prize,  respectively. 

"It  was  strictly  a  routine,"  Fred  explains,  "because 
no  contestant  ever  received  more  than  a  single  buck 
for  his  efforts.  If  carfare  was  involved,  maybe  he  got 
a  dollar  and  a  half.  The  difference  between  what  the 
audience  thought  we  got  and  what  we  actually  re- 
ceived went  to  Sam  Cohen  who,  by  the  way,  did  not 
originate  that  lop-sided  arrangement.  That  pay-off 
system  was  standard  practice  long  before  he  entered 
the  field." 

The  fact  is,  Cohen's  personality  was  such  that  he 
contributed  more  to  the  amateur  night  business  than 
he  took  from  it.  He  built  Amateur  Night  into  a 
flourishing  institution,  a  proving  ground  for  talented 
New  England  kids  like  juggler-monologuist  Fred 
Allen,     comic    Benny    Rubin,     singer    Jack     Haley, 


THE  LIFE  OF  FRED  ALLEN 


dancer    Hal    Sherman    and    many    other    "names." 

"Sam  often  appeared  as  master  of  ceremonies  and 
was  a  sure-fire  attraction  with  his  slapstick  heckling 
of  the  contestants,"  Fred  says.  "Some  poor  bird  wotdd 
be  drawing  loud  razzberries  from  the  audience  and  so 
Sam  would  rush  in  from  the  wings  with  an  enormous 
hook  and  drag  him  offstage.  Sam  originated  that  de- 
vice and  pretty  soon  'Get  the  hook!'  became  a  na- 
tional catch-phrase.  He  also  invented  a  trick  curtain. 
It  had  several  doors  in  it  and  while  some  hopeful  was 
trying  to  sing  or  dance,  Sam  would  keep  popping  out 
of  a  different  door  every  few  minutes,  heckling  him. 
Many  a  time,  Sam  startled  an  ad  lib  out  of  me  when 
he'd  suddenly  open  a  door  behind  me  and  tip  over  my 
juggling  props.    The  audience  would  howl." 

Even  with  those  wild  audiences  and  Sam  Cohen's 
crazy  distractions,  Fred  (and  every  other  amateur, 
as  well)  pitched  hard  each  night  to  win  first  prize. 
Fred  did  his  juggling  routine  with  ever-increasing 
skill.  He  enlivened  it  with  bright  patter.  And  yet, 
it  was  not  entirely  talent  that  determined  a  winner. 
Sometimes,  first  prize  was  won  by  means  of  a  certain 
thing  called  schmaltz  ...  a  bald-faced,  unabashed  bid 
for  audience  sympathy. 

Fred  preferred  to  trick  his  audience  into  cheers 
rather  than  tears.  Then,  as  now,  he  would  win  them 
with  his  born  showmanship  and  his  clever  mono*- 
logues.  While  his  quick  hands  tossed  things  in  fas- 
cinating fashion,  that  nasal,  sandpapery  voice  of  his 
would  keep  up  a  lively,  amusing  comment.  Living  in 
Boston,  he  knew  (and  made  it  a  point  to  know)  all  the 
local  news  and,  playing  neighborhood  theaters,  he  took 
advantage  of  local  names  and  characters  to  get  laughs. 

But  Aimt  Elizabeth  wasn't  laughing.  Right  from 
the  start  she  had  a  low  opinion  of  this  outlandish 
activity  of  Fred's.  What  had  got  into  the  boy,  she 
asked.  Was  this  to  be  the  result  of  her  careful  up- 
bringing? Was  it  for  this  that  she  had  been  prac- 
tically a  mother  to  him?  Hadn't  she  hoped  that  his 
training  at  home  and  in  school  would  lead  him  into  a 
decent,  respectable  livelihood?  Look  at  hihi  now! 
Gallivanting  around  town  every  single  night  in  the 
week  .  .  .  falling  in  with  heaven  knows  what  kind  of 
disreputable  people  .  .  .  making  a  public  spectacle  of 
himself!  Let  Fred  mark  her  words  ...  all  this  night- 
lifeing  and  all  this  mixing  with  low  company  would 
lead  to  no  good! 

"I  couldn't  seem  to  make  (Continued  on  page  105) 


In  1942,  Portland  Hoffa  and  husband  Fred 
celebrated   their  first   ten   years   on   the   air. 


67 


R 
M 

68 


All  Times  Below  Are  EASTERN  TIME 
For  Correct  CENTRAL  STANDARD  TIME,  Subtract  One  Hour 


A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 

Earl  Wild 

Carolina  Calling 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Story  to  Order 
Bach  Aria  Group 

Tone  Tapestries 

Chamber  Music 
Society 

Sunday  Morning 
Concert  Hall 

News 

E.  Power  Biggs 

Trinity  Choir  of 
St.  Paul's  Chapel 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 
10:45 

National  Radio 

Pulpit 
Voices  down  The 

Wind 

Radio  Bible  Class 
Voice  of  Prophecy 

Message  of  Israel 
Southernaires 

Church  of  the  Air 
Church  of  the  Air 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

News  Highlights 
Solitaire  Time 

Christian  Reform 

Church 
Reviewing  Stand 

Fine  Arts  Quartette 
Hour  of  Faith 

Bill  Costello 

The  News  Makers 

Salt  Lake  Tabernacle 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 
12:30 
12:45 

Who  Said  That? 
Eternal  Light 

Alan  Lomax 
Lutheran  Hour 

Piano  Playhouse 

Invitation  to  Learning 
People's  Platform 

1:00 
1:15 

1:30 

1:45 

America  United 
Chicago  Round  Table 

William  L.  Shirer 

American  Radio 

Warblers 
Mutual  Music  Box 

Edward  "Ted" 

Weeks 
National  Vespers 

Joseph  C.  Harsch 
Elmo  Roper 

Tell  It  Again 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

NBC  University 
Theater 

Army  Air  Force 

Show 
Bill  Cunningham 
Veteran's  Information 

This  Week  Around 

The  World 
Mr.  President 

Drama 

Longine  Sym- 

phonette 
You  Are  There 

3:00 
3:15 

3:30 
3:45 

One  Man's  Family 

Ernie  Lee  Show 
Juvenile  Jury 

Harrison  Wood 
The  Future  of 

America 
Dance  Music 

N.  Y.  Philharmonic 
Symphony 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

The  Quiz  Kids 

News 
Living~1949 

House  of  Mystery 
True  Detective 

Ted  Malone 

Metropolitan  Opera 
Auditions 

Skyway  to  the  Stars 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

Jane  Pickens  Show 
Robert  Merrill 

The  Shadow 
Quick  As  A  Flash 

Quiet  Please 

David  Harding 
Counterspy 

Festival  of  Song 
Strike  It  Rich 

EVENING   PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

The  Catholic  Hour 

Ozrie  Nelson,  Harriet 
Hilliard 

Roy  Rogers 
Nick  Carter 

Drew  Pearson 
Don  Gardner 
Greatest  Story  Ever 
Told 

Family  Hour  of  Stars 
Spotlight  Revue 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Horace  Heidt 

Alice  Faye  and  Phil 
Harris 

Mayor  of  the  Town 

Go  For  the  House 

Carnegie  Hall 
Musicale 

The  Jack  Benny 

Show 
Amos  'n'  Andy 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Fred  Allen 

A.  L.  Alexander 
Memos  For  Music 

Stop  the  Music 

Sam  Spade 
Life  With  Luigi 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Manhattan  Merry- 

Go-Round 
American  Album 

Under  Arrest 

Jimmie  Fidler 

Twin  Views  of  News 

Walter  Winchell 
Louella  Parsons 
Theatre  Guild  on 
the  Air 

Electric  Theatre 

with  Helen  Hayes 
Our  Miss  Brooks 

10:00 
10:30 

Take  It  or  Leave  It 
Who  Said  That? 

Secret  Missions 
Starlight  Moods 

Jimmie  Fidler 

Lum  'n'  Abner 
"Cabin  B-13" 

ARTHUR  FIEDLER,  conducts  the 
Boston  "Pops"  orchestra  every  Sun- 
day on  NBC's  RCA- Victor  Show. 


r 


I 


BETTY  MANDEVILLE  is  producer- 
director  of  CBS's  FBI  in  Peace  and 
War.  While  at  the  U.  of  Minn.,  she 
worked  with  the  Bainbridge  Players. 
In  New  York,  she  tried  to  find  a  niche 
for  herself  on  Broadway  but  the  plays 
she  was  in  failed.  So  she  tried  radio 
production  work  and  in  a  very  short 
time  was  chosen  to  direct  "FBI."  She 
is  the  only  woman  director  of  a  night- 
time   crime   series    in    network    radio. 


1HHB3 

^^^^^^^1 

E^^^^^^B 

!HHli 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

Local  Programs 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  New 

York 
Clevelandaires 

Editor's  Diary 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Bob  Poole  Show 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
The  Brighter  Day 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  In  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 

Eleanor  and  Anna 
Roosevelt 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 

11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  and  Learn 
Jack  Berch 

Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Victor  Lindlahr 
Gabriel  Heatter's 

Mailbag 
Lanny  Ross 

Kav  Kyser 
Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 

Kate  Smith  Sings 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

Luncheon  at  Sardi's 

Maggi  McNeills 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

Boston  Symphony 

Cedric  Foster 

Bill  Baukhage 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Happy  Gang 

Nancy  Craig 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Jack  Kilty 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Dorothy  Dix 

The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 

Double  or  Nothing 

Queen  For  A  Day 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Today's  Children 

Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

"Get  More  Out  of 
Life" 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

David  Harum 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

Show 

Hilltop  House 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Galen  Drake 

House  Party 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Misc.  Programs 

Second  Honeymoon 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Misc.  Programs 

Ethel  and  Albert 

Winner  Take  All 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Two  Ton  Baker 

5:00 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Superman 

Challenge  of  the 

Treasury  Bandstand 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

Yukon 

5-30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Capt.  Midnight 

Jack  Armstrong 

The  Chicagoans 

5:45 

Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING   PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

John  MacVane 
Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
"You  and " 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 

H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Dinner  Date 

News 

Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
The  Lone  Ranger 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Cavalcade  of 

America 
Voice  of  Firestone 

Straight  Arrow 
Sherlock  Holmes 

The  Railroad  Hour 
Henry  Taylor 

Inner  Sanctum 
Talont  Scouts 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 

9:55 

Telephone  Hour 
Dr.  1.  Q. 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreei 
Fishing  and  Hunting 

Club 
Bill  Henry 

Music  of  Glenn 

Osser 
Stars  in  the  Night 

Lux  Radio  Theatre 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Contented  Program 

Korn's-A-Krackin' 
Dance  Orch 

Arthur  Gaeth 
Earl  Godwin 
On  Trial 

My  Friend  Irma 
The  Bob  Hawk  Show 

r 


1 


JOHN  GRIGGS,  story-teller  Roger  El- 
liott on  House  of  Mystery,  Sundays, 
4:00  P.M.  EST,  Mutual,  has  been 
telling  stories  to  little  children  ever 
since  his  high  school  days  when  he 
worked  in  five  libraries  in  DuPage 
County,  Illinois.  Griggs,  an  enthusias- 
tic devotee  of  the  silent  screen, 
founded  the  Sutton  Cinema  Society  of 
New  York  which  is  composed  of 
others    who    love    the    silent    drama. 


A.IVI. 

NBC 

IVIBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30- 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

Local  Programs 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 
Clevelandaires 

Editor's  Diary 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Bob  Poole  Show 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
The  Brighter  Day 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  In  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  IMusic 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 

Eleanor  and  Anna 
Roosevelt 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 

11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Dralce 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 

Lara  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 
Gabriel  Heatter's 

Mailbag 
Lanny  Ross 

Kay  Kyser 
Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:00 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 
News 

Local  Programs 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 
Clevelandaires 

Editor's  Diary 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Bob  Poole  Show 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
The  Brighter  Day 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Club  Time 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 

11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 

Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 
Gabriel  Heatter's 

Mailbag 
Lanny  Ross 

Kay  Kyser 
Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 

Kate  Smith  Sings 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

Luncheon  At  Sardi's 

Maggie  McNeills 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

Art  Van  Damme 

Cedric  Foster 

Bill  Baukhage 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Quartet 

Happy  Gang 

Nancy  Craig 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Jack  Kilty 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Dorothy  Dix 

The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 

Double  or  Nothing 

Queen  For  A  Day 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Today's  Children 

Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

What  Makes  You 
Tick? 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

David  Harum 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

Show 

Hilltop  House 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Dixie  Barn  Dance 

Galen  Drake 

House  Party 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

Gang 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Misc.  Programs 

Second  Honeymoon 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Misc.  Programs 

Ethel  and  Albert 

Winner  Take  All 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Two  Ton  Baker 

5:00 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Straight  Arrow 

The  Green  Hornet 

Treasury  Bandstand 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

5:30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Capt.  Midnight 

Sky  King 

The  Chicagoans 

5:45 

Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 

John  MacVane 

Eric  Sevareid 

6:15 

Sketches  in  Melody 

"You  and " 

6:30 

Local  Programs 

6:45 

Sunoco  News 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 

Chesterfield  Club 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Headline  Edition 

Beulah 

7:15 

News  of  the  World 

Dinner  Date 

Elmer  Davis 

Jack  Smith  Show 

7:30 

The  Smoothies 

News 

Relaxin'  Time 

Club  15 

7:45 

H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Inside  of  Sports 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 

This  Is  Your  Life 

George  O'Hanlan 

Youth  Asks  The 

Mystery  Theatre 

Ralph  Edwards 

Show 

Government 

8:15 

Earl  Godwin 

8:30 

Alan  Young  Show 

Official  Detective 

America's  Town 
Meetingof  the  Air 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  North 

8:55 

Hy  Gardner 

9:00 

Rob  Hope  Show 

Gabriel  Heatter 

We,  The  People 

9:15 

Radio  Newsreel 

9:30 

Fibber  McGee 

Lone  Wolf 

Erwin  D.  Canham 

Morey  Amsterdam 

9:45 

Molly 

Detroit  Symphony 

Show 

9:55 

Bill  Henry 

Orch. 

10:00 

Big  Town 

American  Forum  of 

Hit  The  Jackpot 

10:15 

The  Air 

10:30 

People  Are  Funny 

Dance  Orchestra 

12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  warren 

12:15 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 

Kate  Smith  Sings 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

Luncheon  At  Sardi's 

Maggi  McNeills 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

Luncheon  With  Lopez 

Cedric  Foster 

Bill  Baukhage 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Happy  Gang 

Nancy  Craig 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Jack  Kilty 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Dorothy  Dix 

The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 

Double  or  Nothing 

Queen  For  A  Day 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Today's  Children 

Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

What  Makes  You 
Tick? 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

David  Harum 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

Show 

Hilltop  House 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Galen  Drake 

House  Party 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Misc.  Programs 

Second  Honeymoon 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas               The  Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Ethel  and  Albert 

Winner  Take  All 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Two  Ton  Baker 

5:00 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Superman 

Challenge  of  the 

Treasury  Bandstand 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

Yukon 

|5:30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Capt.  Midnight 

Jack  Armstrong 

The  Chicagoans 

5:45 

Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

John  MacVane 
Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
"You  and " 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
The  Smoothies 
H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Dinner  Date 

News 

Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Lone  Ranger 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Blondie 

Great  Gildersleeve 

Can  You  Top  This 
High  Adventure 

Original  Amateur 
Hour,  Ted  Macks, 
M.C. 

Mr.  Chameleon 
Dr.  Christian 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:55 

Duffy's  Tavern 

Mr.  District  Attorney 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Family  Theater 
Bill  Henry 

Milton  Berle  Show 
Groucho  Marx  Show 

Your  Song  and  Mine 

Harvest  of  Stars 
with  James  Melton 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

The  Big  Story 
Curtain  Time 

Manhattan  Play- 
house 
Dance  Orch. 

Bing  Crosby 
Meredith  Willson 

Time's  A-Wastin'l 
Capitol  Cloak  Room 

PAULENA  CARTER,^  the  pianist  on 
Meredith  Willson's  program,  is  one 
of  the  many  reasons  for  this  show's 
popularity.  Born  in  San  Francisco, 
Paulena,  at  7  was  soloist  with  the 
Stockton  Symphony  Orchestra;  at  9, 
she  had  won  a  scholarship  at  the  Phila- 
delphia Conservatory;  and  at  13,  she 
had  graduated  from  high  school  and 
appeared  as  soloist  with  the  Los  An- 
geles  Philharmonic   Symphony. 


R 

M 

69 


A.IVI. 

NBC 

IVIBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

Local  Programs 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 
Clevelandaires 

Editor's  Diary 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Bob  Poole  Show 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
The  Brighter  Day 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Dorothy  Kilgallen 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 

11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Oral<e 
We  Love  and  Learn 
Jacl(  Berch 

Lara  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 
Gabriel  Heatter's 

Mailbag 
Lanny  Ross 

Kay  Kyser 
Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

JUDITH  ABBOTT  who  is  Agnes 
Lawson  on  the  Henry  Aldrich  show 
has  always  had  her  eyes  focused  on 
the  bright  lights — which  is  only  nat-  - 
ural,  as  her  father  is  producer  George 
Abbott.  Versatile  is  the  word  for  Miss 
Abbott — she  paints,  refinishes  furni- 
ture, and  has  assumed  the  casting  and 
costuming  chores  of  many  of  her  Dad's 
revues.  And  her  skill  in  the  culinary 
department   is    not   to    be    scoffed    at. 


AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Kate  Smith  Sings 

Luncheon  at  Sardi's 

Welcome  Travelers 
Maggie  McNeills 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

Luncheon  With  Lopez 

Robert  McCormick 
Jack  Kilty 

Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Bill  Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 

Dorothy  Dix 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 
The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 

Today's  Children 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  For  A  Day 
Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
What  Makes  You 
Tick? 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Show 
Dixie  Barn  Dance 

Gang 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
Galen  Drake 

David  Harum 
Hilltop  House 
House  Party 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Misc.  Programs 
Johnson  Family 
Misc.  Programs 
Two  Ton  Baker 

Ethel  and  Albert 
Treasury  Band  Show 

Hint  Hunt 
Winner  Take  All 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Straight  Arrow 

Capt.  Midnight 
Tom  Mix 

The  Green  Hornet 
Sky  King 

Treasury  Bandstand 

The  Chicagoans 
Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING   PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

Sketches  in  Melody 
Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
"You  and " 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
Art  Van  Damme 
Quintet 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 
Dinner  Date 
News 
Inside  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Theatre  U.S.A. 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  IS 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Aldrich  Family 
Burns  and  Allen 

What's  the  Name  of 

That  Song? 
Hollywood  Story 

Abbott  and  Costello 
Jo  Stafford  Show 

The  F.B.I.  In  Peace 

and  War 
Mr.  Keen 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:55 

Al  Jolson  Show 
Dorothy  Lamour 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Mysterious  Traveler 
Bill  Henry 

Personal  Autograph 

Our  Job  Is  Man- 
hattan 

Suspense 

Crime  Photographer 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Screen  Guild  Theatre 
Fred  Waring  Show 

Adventures  of  the 

Thin  Man 
Dance  Orch. 

Child's  World 

Hallmark  Playhouse 
First  Nighter 

A.IV1. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

Local  Programs 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 
Clevelandaires 

Editor's  Diary 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Bob  Poole  Show 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
The  Brighter  Day 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
The  Listening  Post 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 

11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 

Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 
Gabriel  Heatter's 

Mailbag 
Lanny  Ross 

Kay  Kyser 
Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Echoes  From  the 

Tropics 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Kate  Smith  Sings 

Luncheon  At  Sardi's 

Welcome  Travelers 
Maggi  McNeills 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

Milton  Katim's  Show 

Robert  McCormick 
Jack  Kilty 

Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Sill  Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 

Dorothy  Dix 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 

Today's  Children 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  For  A  Day 
Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
What  Makes  You 
Tick? 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Show 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
Galen  Drake 

David  Harum 
Hilltop  House 
House  Party 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Misc.  Programs 
Johnson  Family 
Misc.  Programs 
Two  Ton  Baker 

Second  Honeymoon 
Ethel  and  Albert 

Hint  Hunt 
Winner  Take  All 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Superman 

Capt.  Midnight 
Tom  Mix 

Challenge  of  the 

Yukon 
Jack  Armstrong 

Treasury  Bandstand 

The  Chicagoans 
Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


R 
M 

70 


n 


JEFF  CHANDLER  considers  him- 
self a  lucky  guy  playing  opposite  Eve 
Arden  in  CBS'  Our  Miss  Brooks.  Born 
and  raised  in  Brooklyn,  Jeff  studied 
art  but  gave  it  up;  acted  in  vehicles- 
ranging  from  modern  sophisticated 
comedies  to  Shakespearean  tragedies; 
did  some  picture  work,  and  finally 
wound  up  in  radio.  He's  married  to 
Marjorie  Hoshelle,  and  they  have  u 
seventeen-month-old    girl,    Jamie. 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

News, 

Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
"You  and " 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 

H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Dinner  Date 

News 

Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Lone  Ranger 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Cities  Service  Band 

Of  America 
Jimmy  Durante 

Show 

Great  Scenes  From 

Great  Plays 
Leave  It  to  the  Girls 

The  Fat  Man 
This  Is  Your  FBI 

Jack  Carson  Show 
Mr.  Ace  and  Jane 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Eddie  Cantor  Show 
Red  Skelton  Show 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Yours  For  a  Song 

Break  the  Bank 
The  Sheriff 

Ford  Theatre 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Life  of  Riley 
Sports 

Meet  the  Press 
Dance  Orch 

Boxing  Bouts 

Philip  Morris  Play- 
house 

The  Pause  That  Re- 
freshes on  the  Air 

^^^^^^^^^^HB^jI 

iiil''llJil[ljiM 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Mind  Your  Manners 
Coffee  in  Washington 

Paul  Neilson,  News 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Shoppers  Special 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

Garden  Gate 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 
10:45 

Mary  Lee  Taylor 
Archie  Andrews 

Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Albert  Warner,  News 
Misc.  Programs 

Concert  of  Ameri- 
can Jazz 
This  is  For  You 
Saturday  Strings 

Red  Barber's  Club- 

House 
Romance 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

Meet  the  Meeks 
Smilin'  Ed  McConnell 

Hormel  Girls  Corps 
Magic  Rhythm 

Abbott  and  Costello 

Don  Gardiner 
Round-up  Rhythm 

Let's  Pretend 
Junior  Miss 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 
12:30 
12:45 

Arthur  Barriault 
Public  Affair 

Frank  Merriwell 

Smoky  Mt.  Hayride 

Junior  Junction 
American  Farmer 

Theatre  of  Today 

Grand  Central 
Station 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

Nat'l  Farm  Home 

Edward  Tomlinson 
Report  From  Europe 

Campus  Salute 
Dance  Orch. 

Maggie  McNeills, 

Herb  Sheldon 
Recorded  Music 

County  Fair 
Give  and  Take 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Music  For  The 
Moment 

Macalaster  College 

Choir 
Dance  Orch. 

Metropolitan  Opera 

Stars  Over  Holly- 
wood 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Local  Programs 

Poole's  Paradise 
Sports  Parade 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Local  Programs 

Wings  Over  Jordan 

Charlie  Slocum 
First  Church  of 
Christ  Science 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

Lassie  Show 

Take  A  Number 
True  or  False 

Dance  Music 

Chuck  Foster's 

Orch. 
Make  Way  For 

Youth 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

Peter  Roberts 
Art  of  Living 
NBC  Symphony 

Music 

Bands  For  Bonds 

Speaking  of  Songs 
Jack  Beall 

News  From  Wash- 
ington 

Memo  From  Lake 
Success 

Saturday  Sports 
Review 

Larry  Lesueur 

7:l» 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Vic  Damone,  Hollace 
Shaw 

Hawaii  Calls 

Robert  Hurliegh 
News 

Treasury  Bond  Show 

Camel  Caravan  with 
Vaughn  Monroe 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Hollywood  Star 
Theatre 

Truth  or  Conse- 
quences 

Twenty  Questions 
Life  Begins  at  80 

Famous  Jury  Trials 

The  Amazing  Mr. 
Malone 

Sing  It  Again 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Your  Hit  Parade 
Judy  Canova  Show 

Lanny  Ross 
Meet  the  Boss 

Gang  Busters 

Winner  Take  All 

It  Pays  To  Be 
Ignorant 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Day  in  the  Life  of 

Dennis  Day 
Grand  Ole  Opry 

Theatre  of  the  Air 

Hayloft  Hoedown 

Hometown  Reunion 

National  Guard  Mili- 
tary Ball 

I 


iMILTOiN  J.  CKOSh  came  lo  ladio 
twenty-seven  years  ago  as  a  musician 
and  stayed  to  become  one  of  the  most 
distinguished  announcers  on  the  air. 
As  announcer  for  the  Metropolitan 
Opera  broadcasts  on  Saturdays,  he 
says  he's  in  love  with  his  work  and 
wouldn't  trade  it  for  anything  else. 
During  the  summers,  he  hides  away  on 
his  snug  farm  in  Woodstock,  Vermont. 
Naturally  his  favorite  hobby  is  music. 


QUIZ  CUTAIOGUE 


Notes  to  Keep  Your  Radio  Mirror  Quiz  Catalogue 
Up  to  Date 

JUST  HOW  does  Stop  the  Music  select  its  irritating  and 
tricky  mystery  melodies?  Affable  m.c.  Bert  Parks  gives 
this  inside  information:  there  are  three  unidentified 
musicologists,  known  only  to  orchestra  leader  Harry  Salter, 
who  research  the  obscure  melodies  that  bring  lucky  tele- 
phone listeners  bountiful  loot. 

These  three  song  sleuths  do  not  even  know  each  other. 
They  live  in  different  parts  of  the  country.  Salter  selects 
some  typical  folk  tune  like  "Old  Grey  Mare"  and  then  has 
each  researcher  work  independently  to  trace  the  song's 
origin  back  through  the  years  until  it  is  possible  to  find  its 
original  title.  The  use  of  three  tune  detectives  gives  the 
show  triple  checking. 

By  the  time  newspaper  columnists  and  ^uiz  experts  have 
retraced  the  paths  of  the  Salter  researchers,  Stop  The 
Music's  giant  jackpot  has  become  king  size  and  grown  to  an 
average  amount  of  $26,000. 

The  merchandise  accumulated  for  the  show  is  not  paid 
for  but  received  in  exchange  for  those  liberal,  wordy  plugs 
that  you  hear  each  Sunday  night  on  ABC  8-9  P.M.,  EST. 

If  you  detect  a  woman's  touch  in  the  type  of  prizes  se- 
lected for  the  show's  jackpot,  it's  because  Producer  Mark 
Goodson's  pretty  wife  is  the  program's  imaginative  shopper. 

Since  Stop  the  Music  started  last  March,  over  $250,000  in 
prizes  have  been  given  away.  Largest  loot  totaled  $32,000. 
Biggest  individual  haul  was  a  $3,500  nineteen-foot  speed- 
boat. Most  spectacular  was  an  "in  person"  visit  to  the  win- 
ner's home  town  by  Cab  Calloway.  A  little,  sixty-seven- 
year-old  lady  who  "won"  Cab,  made  him  hi-de-ho  for  her 
church  supper.   Turned  out  fine. 

There  are  always  about  fifty  tunes  in  Salter's  books  ready 
for  playing  on  each  hour-long  broadcast.  Soloists  Kay 
Armen  and  Dick  Brown  learn  about  fifteen  apiece.  The  rest 
are  instrumental  numbers. 

The  show  originates  from  a  former  theater,  the  Ritz,  on 
West  Forty-eighth  Street,  New  York.  Studio  tickets  are  at 
a  premium,  since  lucky  stub  holders  get  a  chance  to  win 
the  smaller  prizes  which  phone  contestants  fluff.  However, 
studio  players  don't  qualify  for  the  big  jackpot. 

Don't  call  Stop  the  Music.  They'll  call  you  ...  if  your 
name  is  in  a  phone  book.  They've  got  most  U.S.  phone 
books.  A  celebrity  is  blindfolded  and  picks  from  a  fishbowl 
the  names  of  various  phone  books.  Then  by  a  series  of  re- 
fining processes,  actual  listings  and  numbers  are  drawn. 
These  are  sent  up  to  the  three  telephone  operators  and  they 
go  to  work  contacting  the  names  selected. 

Listeners  contacted  are  invited  to  play  and  given  the  call 
letters  of  their  nearest  ABC  station  so  they  can  tune  it  in. 
The  telephone  operator  then  signals  the  control  room  where 
the  director  gives  the  high-sign  to  the  sound  effects  man. 
He  simulates  a  telephone  bell,  an  actor  shouts  Stop  The 
Music  and  Parks  is  on  the  wire  to  somebody,  somewhere  in 
the  U.S.,  much  to  the  pleasure  of  the  listener  and  the  con- 
tinuing discomfort  of  one  Fred  Allen. 
*         *         * 

Yoit  Should  Know  That: 

Even  if  the  FCC  decides  against  the  telephone  giveaway 
shows  as  illegal  lotteries,  no  definite  action  will  be  taken 
until  July  and  the  Stop  the  Music  impresarios  will  appeal 
the  decision  to  the  highest  courts  .  .  .  Todd  Russell,  m.c.  of 
Strike  It  Rich,  had  his  good  friend,  quiz  m.c.  Bill  CuUen, 
standing  by  ready  to  pinchhit  during  Mrs.  Russell's  serious 
and  prolonged  illness.  Mrs.  R.  is  making  sure  but  slow  re- 
covery .  .  .  CBS's  fast  growing  quiz,  Sing  It  Again,  has 
moved  up  from  8  to  10  P.M.,  EST  on  Saturdays  and  looks 
set  for  sponsorship  .  .  .  Walt  Framer,  producer  of  Strike  It 
Rich,  is  readying  a  new  audience  participation  show  for 
CBS  called  Exchange  For  Happiness.  It's  modeled  after  the 
Swap  Shop  Show  Pittsburgh  listeners  may  remember  .  .  . 
Don't  be  surprised  if  Stop  the  Music  expands  to  an  hour  and 
a  half  .  .  .  Ralph  Edwards  tells  close  friends  he  would  like  to 
abandon  Truth  or  Consequences  now  that  imitators  have 
watered  the  original  down  .  .  .  On  Sing  It  Again  a  parody 
about  Miss  America  was  recently  sung.  M.C.  Dan  Seymour 
asked  a  listener  to  identify  the  parody.  "Who  is  the  All- 
American  miss?"  Dan  riddled.  "Tom  Dewey,"  was  the 
prompt  but  technically  inaccurate  reply.  Come  to  think  of 
it,  the  contestant  should  have  received  some  consolation 
prize  for  quick  thinking. 


71 


FAMILY 
COUNSELOR 


ITS  BETTER  BUSINESS 


By  TERRY  BURTON 


Wl 


72 


Mr.  John  J.  Burke,  of  the  Better  Business  Bureau,  gave  Terry  Burton 
and  listeners   sound   advice   on   the   conduct   of   business   transactions. 


The  Second  Mrs.  Burton,  which  features  a  Family  Counselor  on  every  Wed- 
nesday program,  is  heard   Monday  through   Friday  at  2  P.M.    EST.  on  CBS. 


'E  WERE  pleased  to  welcome  John  J. 
Burke,  executive  staff  member  of  the 
National  Better  Business  Bureau,  as  a 
recent  Family  Counselor.  The  Better  Business 
Bureaus,  located  in  principle  cities  of  the 
United  States  and  Canada  are  non-profit, 
service  corporations,  maintained  by  ethically- 
minded  business  firms  to  elevate  the  standards 
of  business  conduct,  fight  frauds,  and  assist  the 
public  to  achieve  maximum  satisfaction  from 
its  relations  with  business.  Bureau  men  are  ex- 
perienced also  in  preparing  evidence  for  pres- 
entation to  law-enforcing  bodies. 

Mr.  Burke  pointed  out  that  while  nearly  all 
business  is  fundamentally  honest  and  deserv- 
ing of  support,  an  unscrupulous  minority  of 
schemers  and  cheats  does  exist.  For  instance, 
complaints  are  now  reaching  his  office  telling 
of  the  "survey  approach"  used  by  phony 
pollsters.  The  bona  fide  opinion  researcher  has 
nothing  to  sell,  but  the  phony  pollster,  once 
he  has  his  foot  in  the  door,  may  be  able  to  get 
signatures  on  contracts  the  customer  doesn't 
understand  and  wouldn't  enter  into  if  he  did. 

Mr.  Burke  reported  the  case  of  a  woman 
who  has  defrauded  a  midwest  community  and 
may  approach  others.  Using  a  personal  sym- 
pathy appeal,  she  offers  to  publish  a  history 
of  the  local  church  in  the  town,  to  be  financed 
by  advertising.  She  solicits  the  advertising  (on 
a  payment-in-advance  basis) ,  then  leaves  town. 

He  also  told  us  about  two  appeals  which  had 
all  the  earmarks  of  being  honest:  investigation 
proved  otherwise.  Quite  recently  a  letter  ask- 
ing for  donations  to  purchase  a  Seeing  Eye  Dog 
was  sent  to  remote  sections  of  the  country.  Mr. 
Burke  explained  that  the  Seeing  Eye,  Inc.  dis- 
approves completely  of  such  appeals,  and 
while  the  dogs  cost  $150,  no  applicant  capable 
of  using  a  dog  has  been  refused  one,  for  pay- 
ment can  be  made  at  the  blind  person's  con- 
venience. "The  other  type  of  letter  appeal 
which  bears  watching  is  the  plea  from  un- 
known persons  abroad  asking  for  food,  aid  and 
information,"  he  remarked.  "These  letters 
might  represent  the  workings  of  an  organized 
black  market  and  should  be  turned  over  to 
reputable  relief  agencies." 

In  closing,  Mr.  Burke  told  us  that  schemes 
can  be  recognized  by  three  ifs:  IF  you  are 
offered  something  for  nothing,  or  a  lot  for  a 
little,  IF  the  offer  is  made  especially  and  con- 
fidentially to  you,  and  IF  you  are  asked  to  act 
now,  immediately,  without  a  chance  to  think 
it  over  .  .  .  watch  out.  If  you  suspect  dis- 
honesty in  your  business  transactions,  call  your 
nearest  Better  Business  Bureau  and  check. 
They  make  no  charge  for  services;  they  have 
records  and  files — and  they're  there  to  help 
you.    Investigate  before  you  invest. 

If  you  have  a  problem  that  you  would  like  to 
hear  discussed,  won't  you  send  it  along  to  me, 
in  care  of  Radio  Mirror? 


7zr 


I 


I 


Her  Lovely  Face  shows  you 
the  gracious  charm  that  is 
her  Inner  Self 

Famous  for  her  vivid  starry  beauty,  the 
world  responds  to  Mrs.  Drexel's  love- 
liness wherever  she  goes.  The  minute 
that  you  see  her,  you  are  aware  of  her 
inner  serenity,  of  the  cultured,  friendly 
charm  that  is  the  keynote  of  her 
exquisite  self. 

Your  face  is  the  only  You  that  others 
actually  see.  It  is  the  You  they  first  take 
to  their  hearts.  It  is  the  You  that  they 
remember  best.  Do,  then,  help  your  face 
to  say  only  pleasing,  lovely  things  about 
you.  Its  loveliness,  its  charm,  rest  very 
much  with  what  you  do  for  it. 


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1/46^ 


Back  of  beautiful  distinction  like  Mrs.  Drexel's  is  always  perfect  grooming 


V 


I  think  it's  a  superb  cream 
Afrs.  Drexel  says 


—  the  best  I  know,  '! 


Ijet  youT  face  show  you  to  others  as  the 
delightful  person  you  really  are.  Keep  it 
softly  lovely  with  the  cream-cleansings 
that  do  so  much  for  skin.  Always  at  bed- 
time (for  day  cleansings,  too)  do  Pond's 
"Outside-Inside' '  Face  Treatment,  this  way: 

Bot  Stimulation — splash  face   with   hot   water. 

Cream  Cleanse — swirl  Pond's  Cold  Cream  all 
over  your  face.  This  will  soften  and  sweep  dirt 
and  make-up  from  pore-openings.  Tissue  off. 

Cream  itinse^swirl  on  a  second  Pond's  cream- 
ing. This  rinses  off  last  traces  of  dirt,  leaves  skin 
lubricated,  immaculate.  Tissue  off. 

Cold  Stimulation — -a  tonic  cold   water  splash. 


This  "Outside-Inside"  Face  Treatment 
literally  acts  on  both  sides  of  your  skin. 
From  the  Outside — Pond's  Cold  Cream 
softens  and  sweeps  away  surface  dirt  and 
make-up  as  you  massage.  From  the  Inside 
— every  step  of  this  treatment  stimulates 
beauty-giving  circulation. 

Never  feel  it  is  merely  vanity  to  develop 
the  beauty  of  your  own  face.  When  you 
look  lovely,  it  spreads  out  from  you  to  all 
who  see  you.  It  gives  you  a  charming  air 
of  happy  confidence.  It  brings  the  real 
Inner  You  closer  to  others. 


Pond's — used  by  more  women  than  any  other 
face  creama.  Today  —  get  this  favoiite  6ig, 
dressiDK-table  size  of  Pond's  Cold   Cream« 


R 

M 

73 


Don't  be 
Half -safe! 


by 
VALDA  SHERMAN 


At  the  first  blush  of  womanhood  many  mys- 
terious changes  take  place  in  your  body.  For 
instance,  the  apocrine  glands  under  your 
arms  begin  to  secrete  daily  a  type  of  perspi- 
ration you  have  never  known  before.  This  is 
closely  related  to  physical  development  and 
causes  an  unpleasant  odor  on  both  your  per- 
son and  your  clothes. 

There  is  nothing  "wrong"  with  you.  It's  just 
another  sign  you  are  now  a  woman,  not  a 
girl ...  so  now  you  must  keep  yourself  safe 
with  a  truly  effective  underarm  deodorant. 

Two  dangers— Underarm  odor  is  a  real  handi- 
cap at  this  romantic  age,  and  the  new  cream 
deodorant  Arrid  is  made  especially  to  over- 
come this  very  difficulty.  It  kills  this  odor 
on  contact  in  2  seconds,  then  by  antiseptic 
action  prevents  the  formation  of  all  odor  for 
48  hours  and  keeps  you  shower-bath  fresh. 
It  also  stops  perspiration  and  so  protects 
against  a  second  danger— perspiration  stains. 
Since  physical  exertion,  embarrassment  and 
emotion  can  now  cause  apocrine  glands 
to  fairly  gush  perspiration,  a  dance,  a  date, 
an  embarrassing  remark  may  easily  make 
you  perspire  and  offend,  or  ruin  a  dress. 

All  deodorants  are  not  alike  — so  remember 
—no  other  deodorant  tested  stops  perspira- 
tion and  odor  so  completely  yet  so  safely  as 
new  Arrid.  Its  safety  has  been  proved  by 
doctors.  That's  why  girls  your  age  buy  more 
Arrid  than  any  other  age  group.  In  fact,  more 
men  and  women  everywhere  use  Arrid  than 
any  other  deodorant.  It's  antiseptic,  used  by 
117,000  nurses. 

Intimate  protection  is  needed— so  protect  your- 
self with  this  snowy,  stainless  cream  that 
smooths  on  and  disappears.  Arrid,  with  the 
amazing  new  ingredient  Creamogen,  is 
guaranteed  not  to  crystallize  or  dry  out 
in  the  jar,  or  new  jar  free  on  return  to  Carter 
Products,  Inc.,  53  Park  PI.,  N.  Y.  C.  The 
American  Laundering  Institute  has  awarded 
Arrid  its  Approval  Seal— harmless  to  fabrics. 
Arrid  is  safe  for  the  skin— non-irritating- can 
be  used  right  after  shaving. 

Don't  be  half-safe.  During  this  "age  of  ro- 
mance" don't  let  perspiration  problems  spoil 
your  fiin.  Don't  be  half-safe— be  Arrid-safe! 
Use  Arrid  to  be  sure.  Get  Arrid  now  at  your 
favorite  drug  counter  —  only  39^  plus  tax. 


Advertisement 


•  •  •  •  • 


Come  and  Visit  Andy 

(Continued  from  page  29) 


Each  child  has  his  own  bedroom.  The 
playroom  is  equipped  with  a  stage,  a 
16mm.  moving  picture  outfit,  and  a  big 
screen — a  child's  dream  of  a  playroom. 
Or,  at  any  rate,  a  show-business  child's 
dream.  Little  Charlie,  Jr.,  is— so  far— 
the  only  young  Correll  to  show  an  in- 
clination toward  show  business. 

He's  crazy  about  television  and  sits 
and  watches  it  by  the  hour.  And  one  of 
his  favorite  shows  is  Hollywood  Op- 
portunity which  N.  T.  G.  emcees,  a 
sort  of  Hollywood  amateur  show.  Cur- 
rently Charlie,  Jr.,  is  in  a  pre-primary 
Catholic  school.  Shortly  after  he  was 
enrolled  one  of  the  Sisters  told  the  class 
an  exciting  story,  showing,  apparently 
an  excellent  feeling  for  drama. 

When  she  had  finished,  there  was 
only  the  briefest  pause  before  Charlie, 
Jr.,  piped  up  with,  "Give  her  a  great  big 
hand!"  It  was  suggested  that  young 
Charlie  confine  the  language  he's  picked 
up  from  the  show  to  his  after-school 
conversation. 

Charlie  Sr.  doesn't  encourage  or  dis- 
courage Charlie  Jr.  He  thinks  there's 
plenty  of  time  to  come  before  definite 
interests  will  be  forming.  "But,"  he  says 
with  a  twinkle,  "I  show  them  pictures  in 
the  playroom  almost  every  night.  And 
for  those  who  don't  want  pictures — 
well,  there's  always  television  in  the 
next  room!" 

Something  new  is  always  being  added 
at  the  Corrells'.  Currently,  Charlie  is 
in  the  process  of  putting  in  another 
bathroom  in  the  servants'  quarters. 
(Four  servants  run  the  Correll  house- 
hold.) He  was  going  to  get  Paul  Wil- 
liams to  figure  out  a  new  arrangement, 
and  then  decided  to  do*  it  himself.  And 
very  well,  too.  He  took  out  the  pantry 
and  made  it  into  the  new  bath,  made  a 
new  pantry  out  of  the  utility  closet, 
and  added  on  another  utility  closet  in 
such  a  way  that  no  new  roofing  or  foun- 
dation was  necessary. 

Soft  pastel  tones  are  the  basis  of  the 
house's  color  scheme.  Alyce's  bedroom  is 
a  dreamy  thing,  all  in  lush  pink  satin. 
Charlie  cares  a  great  deal  about  the 
people  who  take  care  of  his  house,  since 
for  him — outside  of  his  work — that 
home  is  his  world.  The  Corrells  seldom 
go  out  for  their  fun.  They  have  it  all 
right  where  they  live. 

Charlie  met  Alyce  in  Fort  Wayne, 
Indiana,  while  he  and  Gosden  were  do- 
ing a  personal  appearance  there.  At 
the  time,  they  were  doing  their  broad- 
cast   from    Chicago.     Weekends    they 


went  around  and  played  personal  ap- 
pearances in  the  smaller  towns  nearby. 
Alyce,  who  is  still  a  very  accomplished 
toe  dancer,  was  on  that  bill  in  Fort 
Wayne  with  a  dancing  act.  Charlie  was 
standing  in  the  wings  during  her  act. 

She  had  to  come  off  and  make  three 
different  changes  during  her  perfor- 
mance. "I  kept  thinking  the  poor  girl 
must  be  hot  as  the  devil.  The  weather 
in  Fort  Wayne  in  summer  leaves  a 
little  something  to  be  desired.  I'd 
stand  there  m  the  wings  with  a  towel 
and  fan  her  like  mad  when  she'd  come 
off  for  a  change." 

Finally  Charlie  got  up  enough  nerve 
to  ask  Alyce  where  she  lived,  because 
after  one  look  at  her,  he  decided  she 
was  something  special.  When  she  told 
him  she  lived  in  Chicago,  Charlie  im- 
mediately made  it  his  business  to  find 
out  all  about  her.  If  she  was  single. 
If  she  was  still  "heart-free."  She  was. 
"How  about  calling  you  up  some  night 
and  going  out  to  a  show  or  dinner?" 
Charlie  finally  managed  to  ask  through 
the  flapping  of  his  improvised  fan. 

It  was  all  right  with  Alyce,  so  as  soon 
as  they  got  back  to  Chicago,  they  got 
together.  A  four-year  courtship  came 
to  a  happy  ending  with  marriage  in 
Los  Angeles,  at  the  Wee  Kirk  of  the 
Heather,  in  1937.  "We  were  married  on 
Saturday  and  I  had  to  be  back  on  Mon- 
day. I  had  my  own  plane  then  and  we 
took  off  from  here  at  three  in  the  after- 
noon, and  at  five-thirty  we  were  in  the 
Hotel  Del  Monte." 

"I  brought  the  plane  in  at  Monterey. 
I  don't  know  whether  it  was  the  honey- 
moon idea  that  made  me  nervous  or 
just  that  we  had  traveled  all  the  way  at 
10,000  feet  and  let  down  so  fast — any- 
way, I  lost  my  sense  of  altitude.  But  I 
hit  the  short  runway  at  Monterey  just 
in  time  to  see  a  fence  pop  up  in  front 
of  me.  So  1  took  off  again  emd  made  it 
on  the  second  try." 

"I  have  no  time  to  fly  now,"  he  says. 
"I  darned  near  went  back  to  it,  and  was 
going  to  buy  a  plane  not  long  ago.  Then 
Alyce  said,  'Well,  it's  all  right.  But 
where  are  you  going?'  I  told  her,  'I'll 
go — well,  I'll  go — ',  then,  ' — where  in 
the  devil  will  I  go?  What  do  I  need 
with  a  plane!' 

"My  family  is  just  too  sensible.  Even 
my  daughter  Dorothy,  who  at  nine  is  in 
the  throes  of  a  grand  passion  for  Hopa- 
long  Cassidy,  keeps  me  in  line. 

"There  was  the  time  I  wanted  to  buy 
a    boat.     I     (Continued    on    page    76) 


an   /4«tHlvt€n4Aft<f   to 
remember 


Listen  to  the  human  stories  of  people  like  you — 
the  humorous,  poignant,  nostalgic  iiemembrances 
of  life's  anniversaries  and  the  secret  hopes  they 
inspired  on 

BEN  ALEXANDER'S 


Every  Day  Monday-Friday 


Mutual  Stations 


Read  how  you  can  make  an  anniversary  dream  come  true  for  your  dear  ones 
in  March  True  Love  Stories  magazine  on  newsstands  February  23. 


Mrs.  Eugenia  Roberts  of  Atlanta  had  a  diy  skin  problem. 
"Now,"  says  this  lovely  young  mother,  "I  use  Noxzema  as  my 
all-purpose  cream,  my  night  cream  and  powder  base.  It  cer- 
tainly helps  keep  my  complexion  looking  soft  and  smooth." 


"I  apply  Noxzema  before  putting  on  make-up  and  use  it 
before  retiring  after  a  day  outdoors,"  states  this  charming  Bal- 
timore sports  enthusiast,  Jean  Patchett  of  Preston.  "I  also  use 
Noxzema  to  help  protect  my  hands  against  chapping." 


Which  of  these  6  American  Women  is  the 

MOST  LIKE  YOU? 


If  you  have  some  little  thing  wrong  with  your  skin— 
and  who  doesn't— be  sure  to  read  these  exclusive  interviews. 


"Ten  years  ago  I  was  annoyed 
by  externally-caused  blemishes  on 
my  face,"  says  Mrs.  Eileen  Meyer, 
Detroit.  "Noxzema  helped  heal 
them  so  quickly  I've  used  it  ever 
since.  It's  a  real  all-purpose  cream!" 


•  Recently  we  called  on  women 
across  the  country,  asking  about 
their  beauty  problems.  Here  are 
the  views  of  six  typical  women 
who  are  using  a  new  idea  in 
I  heauty— Medicated  Skin  Care. 

New  Beaufy  Routine 

~l  It's  a  simple  home  treatment 
developed  by  a  doctor.  It  has 
been  clinically  tested.  In  fact, 
181  women  from  all  walks  of 
life  took  part  in  this  skin  im- 
provement test  under  the  super- 


vision of  3  noted  doctors— skin 
specialists.  Each  woman  had 
some  little  skin  problem. 

Based  on  Scientific  Tests 

Each  woman  followed  faithful- 
ly Noxzema's  new  4-Step  Medi- 
cated Beauty  Routine.  At  7-day 
intervals,  their  skin  was  exam- 
ined through  a  magnifying  lens. 
Here  are  the  astonishing  results : 
Of  all  these  women,  4  out  of  5 
showed  softer,  smoother,  love- 
lier-lookino  skin  in  two  weeks! 


"My  hands  were  dreadfully 
chapped.  A  friend  recommended 
Noxzema  and  today  I  use  it  for 
everything,"  says  Shirley  O'Hara 
of  Los  Angeles.  "It's  my  complex- 
ion and  hand  cream— all  in  one." 


Cute  blonde  Mrs.  Sonia  Dorsey  of 
Cambridge,  Mass.  uses  Noxzema 
as  her  all-purpose  cream.  She  says, 
"I  have  unusually  dry  skin.  I've 
found  Noxzema  helps  keep  my 
skin  soft  and  lovely." 


"I  put  a  wonderful-feeling 
'mask'  of  Noxzema  on  my  face 
before  retiring.  It's  done  so  much 
for  my  skin,  I've  been  recommend- 
ing it  to  my  friends,"  says  glamor- 
ous Jan  Barker  of  Cleveland. 


Yes,  4  out  of  5  were  thrilled  at 
the  improvement  in  their  skin! 

For  Externally-Caused 
Skin  Troubles 

If  you  want  an  aid  to  a  softer, 
smoother  looking  skin,  if  you 
suffer  the  embarrassment  of 
externally-caused  blemishes, 
rough,  dry  skin  or  other  similar 
skin  troubles— try  Noxzema. 

4-Step  Beauty  Routine.! 

1 .  Morning  —  bathe  face  with 
warm  water,  with  a  wet  cloth 
apply  Noxzema  and  "cream- 
wash"  your  face. 

2.  Apply  Noxzema  as  a  pow- 
der base. 

3.  Before  retiring,  repeat  morn- 
ing cleansing. 

4.  Massage  Noxzema  lightly  in- 
to your  face.  Pat  on  extra 
Noxzema  over  blemishes. 

Follow  this  new  routine  faith- 
fully morning  and  night.  See  if 
you  aren't  amazed  at  the  aston- 
ishing way  it  can  help  your 
skin.  At  all  drug  and  cosmetic 
counters,  40<,  60ft,  $1.00 
plus  tax— rrial  Size  also 
now  on  sale. 


75 


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(Continued  from  page  74)  chartered  a 
beautiful  boat  to  try  it  out,  took  all  the 
kids,  and  went  out  for  the  day.  We  left 
from  Balboa.  Balboa  is  a  little  seaside 
resort  about  30  miles  south  of  Los 
Angeles,  on  one  of  the  busiest  stretches 
of  highway  in  this  part  of  the  country. 
I  was  pretty  excited  about  buying  the 
thing.  I  thought  the  kids  would  like  it 
and  we  could  go  fishing  and  sailing. 
Dottie  said,  'Won't  you  get  tired  riding 
down?' 

"I  got  to  thinking  about  that.  A  three- 
hour  round  trip.  I  drove  down  once 
more  to  see.  Coming  back  in  the  week- 
end traffic  took  me  two  hours.  Why,  I 
wouldn't  have  one  if  they  gave  it  to  me! 
It's  too  tough  to  get  to.  I  told  Dottie 
that  because  she  saved  me  that  big 
chunk  of  dough  I'd  have  put  out,  I 
would  deposit  it  in  her  account." 

The  Corrells  are  easy-going,  happy 
people.  Friends  visit  often  and  stay 
long.  Naturally,  their  closest  friends 
are  Freeman  and  Jane  Gosden.  But 
there  are  many  others.  Charlie  main- 
tains he  plays  "fine  bar-room  piano," 
and  the  singing  sessions  that  go  on  some 
nights  are  legendary.  He's  very  proud 
of  his  repertoire  of  old  songs.  "I  can. 
keep  going  hours  after  these  modern 
pianists  run  out  of  tunes.  We  started 
out  as  singers,"  he'll  remind  you. 
"Worked  for  nothing  in  1924.  Neither 
of  us  could  sing,  but  we  were  smart 
enough  to  know  it.  Did  patter  and 
.comedy  songs  that  didn't  need  singing 
voices.  I  did  the  piano  playing  for  the 
act.  When  I  was  thirteen,  for  eight 
months  I  got  those  fifty-cents-a-week 
lessons.  Strictly  a  saloon  piano 
player — " 

But  easy-going  as  Charlie  is,  he  has 
certain  definite  standards  which  he 
maintains  for  himself,  and  which  he 
expects  the  people  around  him  to  live 
up  to.  He  doesn't,  for  example,  believe 
in  "pushing  around" — either  for  the 
pusher  or  the  pushee. 

The  Corrells  recently  acquired  a 
new  servant  who  was  almost  too  eager 
to  do  everything  anyone  asked  him  to, 
whether  or  not  it  was  his  job.  Charlie 
took  him  aside  and  briefed  him. 

"Don't  let  other  people  push  you 
around,"  he  said.  "Just  take  care  of  me, 
and  of  the  definite  job  to  which  you've 
been  assigned.  That's  all  you  have  to 
do.  If  you  do  that  well  I'll  take  care  of 
you — not  only  now,  but  in  my  will." 

It  seems  strange  that  despite  the  fact 
that  the  boys — Amos  and  Andy — are 
great  celebrities,  they  are  almost  com- 
pletely unknown.  Their  names  are 
known  in  every  home  in  the  land,  their 
patter  has  become  definite  Americana, 
their  malapropisms  a  part  of  American 
language — but  they   can   walk   in   any 


crowd  unmolested. 

Furthermore,  when  Amos  and  Andy 
go  on  television  their  faces  wiU  still  be 
unknown  to  the  general  public.  Be- 
cause they  do  not  look  like  the  public's 
idea  of  the  characters  they  play,  they 
will  get  other  players  to  play  them, 
and  dub  in  their  voices  on  film. 

This  division  in  the  public's  mind, 
between  the  boys  and  the  characters 
they  have  created,  does  not  operate  in 
the  minds  of  Amos  and  Andy  them- 
selves. In  fact,  they  have  to  be  on  the 
watch  for  slips  into  "character"  which 
come  upon  them  suddenly  and  almost 
unconsciously.  Charlie's  pitfalls  come 
because  he  prepares  the  scripts.  (He 
types  every  bit  of  the  show.)  "I've 
been  writing  in  dialect  for  so  many 
years,"  he  complains,  "I  find  myself 
turning  out  personal  letters  with  words 
like  'regusted'." 

Though  Charlie  and  Freeman  work 
together  like  two  halves  of  a  beauti- 
fully-balanced machine,  they're  tem- 
peramentally so  unlike  that  it's  difficult 
for  outsiders  to  understand  their  per- 
fect cooperation.  Charlie  goes  all  the 
way  to  the  other  point  of  view  for  his 
explanation.  Perhaps,  he  thinks,  it's 
just  because  they're  of  such  different 
make-ups  that  they  get  along  so  well — 
Charlie  firm,  but  calm,  relaxed;  Free- 
man more  tense,  inclined  to  worry. 

It  must  be  something,  for,  as  Charlie 
points  out:  "We've  been  inseparable  for 
nearly  thirty  years.  We've  worked 
together,  played  together,  lived  togeth- 
er before  we  were  married.  And  our 
personal,  business,  and  social  lives  still 
run  parallel.  We  had  an  idea,  for  the 
first  sixteen  years  of  our  association, 
that  we  couldn't  live  apart.  If  we  didn't 
actually  live  in  the  same  apartment,  at 
least  in  the  same  building  or  the  same 
block.  It  was  part  practical — because 
of  the  necessity  of  working  together. 
And  it  was  part  superstition,  I  guess. 

"In  all  our  time  together  we  never 
had  any  real  words.  I  guess  we  just 
know  each  other  too  well.  Sometimes 
we'll  each  make  cracks,  but  before  one 
of  us  begins  really  to  get  the  other  fel- 
low's goat,  we  realize  it  and  stop.  In 
our  program  we  think  so  much  alike  we 
seldom  have  differences  of  opinion.  If 
we  do,  we  simply  argue  them  out.  It 
isn't  difficult,  because  we  respect  each 
other's  opinions  and  judgment." 

It  is  an  interesting  sidelight  on  the  , 
character  of  "the  boys"  to  know  that  in 
more  than  10,000,000  words  of  broad-  H 
casting,  they  never  have  had  a  single 
word  .censored.  And  if  Charlie  Correll 
is  representative  of  some  of  the  best  in 
American  entertainment  today,  his  per- 
sonal Life,  too,  is  an  example  of  the  best 
kind  of  American  living. 


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•  The  Andrews  Sisters 


•    Jerry  and  the 
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Read  Bob  Crosby's  own  story  in  March  TRUE    ROMANCE  magazine 
At  newsstands  February  23. 


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77 


Bob  Pins 
set  the  smartest 
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Your  hair  is  short  and  to  the  point  this  season. 

The  new  hrief  styles  are  easy  on  the  eyes 
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L 


R 
M 

78 


In  your  favorite  chain  variety  store 

Nationally  Advertised  Brands  Week 

March  4-12th 


Two  on  the  TV  Aisle 

(Continued  from  page  44) 


of  October  3  when  Actors'  Equity  and 
Philco  presented  "Dinner  at  Eight," 
with  the  all-star  cast  of  Peggy  Wood, 
Dennis  King,  Mary  Boland,  Vicki  Cum- 
mings,  Philip  Loeb  and  Matt  Briggs. 

"Television  means  hard  work,  for 
everybody  in  it,"  Mr.  Lytell  goes  on. 
"It  uses  every  bit  of  knowledge  you've 
learned  in  any  other  medium.  It's 
completely  new,  and  yet  it  really  gets 
back  to  the  stock  company  idea.  We 
do  a  different  play  every  week  and  we 
build  new  sets  for  each  of  these  one- 
hour  plays.  We  have  to  get  actors  who 
are  quick  studies.  They  must  be  ac- 
curate, sure  of  themselves.  If  they're 
not,  television  isn't  for  them. 

"For  instance,  we  did  one  play  in 
which  an  actor  left  out  about  a  page 
and  a  half  of  the  script.  Luckily,  it  hap- 
pened toward  the  end  of  a  scene.  But 
a  thing  like  that  could  throw  the  other 
actors  and  ruin  the  play." 

Rehearsals  start  early  in  the  week, 
and  by  Saturday  they're  on  all  day, 
under  lights  and  cameras.  It's  the  same 
thing  most  of  Sunday.  That's  why  from 
9:00  to  10:00  P.M.  EST,  over  the  NBC 
network,  you  can  sit  comfortably  in 
your  home  and  see  one  of  the  good 
plays — perhaps  one  of  the  great  plays 
— with  a  hand-picked  cast  of  fine  ac- 
tors in  a  precision  production. 

At  rehearsal  the  half  dozen  men  who 
handle  the  huge  cable  work  as  deftly 
and  quietly  as  possible,  but  even  then 
it's  disconcerting  to  the  actors.  "I  have 
to  concentrate  completely  and  get  my 
mind  off  that  boa-constrictor  thing 
being  lugged  back  and  forth  while  I'm 
working,"  Lytell  says.  "It's  got  to  be 
there,  of  course.  In  fact,  that  boa  is 
more  important  than  I  am." 

Bert  Lytell  has  worked  all  four 
branches  of  entertainment — the  stage, 
the  screen,  radio  and  now  television. 
"Which  brings  them  all  together,"  he 
says.  "But  this  medium  is  the  most 
exacting  of  all.  The  theater  gives  you 
a  more  leisurely  life.  If  you  get  a  hit 
play  like,  for  instance,  'Lady  in  the 
Dark,'  and  you  know,  as  we  did  on 
opening  night,  that  we  had  a  smash 
which  would  run  a  long  time,  you  can 
relax.  You  have  your  lines,  you've 
learned  the  'business'  of  the  part,  and 
except  for  occasional  rehearsals  to 
keep  the  spirit  of  the  thing  fresh  and 
vital,  you  go  on  every  night. 

"Motion  pictures  are  made  in  fairly 
short  segments,  a  scene  at  a  time.  The 
actor  learns  his  next  day's  script.  If 
he  fluffs  a  line  or  a  bit  of  business, 
he  knows  he  can  do  it  over. 


"In  radio  you  have  your  script.  But 
on  television  you're  completely  on 
your  own.  For  the  young  actor,  it's 
a  chance  to  prove  his  mettle." 

In  spite  of  its  exacting  requirements, 
actors  are  swarming  to  television. 
"Why  not?"  demands  Mr.  Lytell.  "It's 
here  to  stay,  it's  going  to  improve 
quickly.  The  lighting  will  get  better, 
the  screen  will  be  bigger.  "They'll  get 
the  'bugs'  out  of  this  whole  thing.  We 
may  not  be  quite  ready  yet  for  the  big 
musicals  with  the  chorus  lines.  It 
would  be  hard  to  do  the  ballet  justice 
at  this  point.   But  I'd  like  to  do  both." 

The  techniques  of  television  fasci- 
nate him,  as  they  do  everyone  who 
works  with  it.  "There  is  no  fourth  wall 
in  a  room,  so  we  can  shoot  from  any 
angle  and  take  the  audience  right  with 
us,"  he  explains  it.  "The  camera  will 
find  anything  it  wants  to  pick  up.  It 
can  choose  its  own  angle.  You  see 
how  flexible  this  medium  is,  once 
you've   learned   how   to    handle   it!" 

When  Mr.  Lytell  forsook  his  role  as 
host  and  narrator  for  one  evening  and 
co-starred  with  Oscar  Karlweis  in  the 
eighth  of  their  series — the  same  play, 
"I  Like  It  Here,"  in  which  they  had 
co-starred  on  Broadway  a  few  seasons 
back — he  was  already  very  much  at 
home  as  a  television  actor.  Behind 
him  were  the  seventeen  weeks  of 
emceeing  Hollywood  Screen  Test,  to 
which  Neil  Hamilton  succeeded  when 
Actors'  Equity  asked  Mr.  Lytell  to 
take  this  one.  The  Actors'  Fund,  by 
the  way,  benefits  generously  from 
every  Playhouse  performance. 

Bert  Lytell  was  practically  raised  in 
the  theater.  At  fifteen,  he  played 
Marie  Dressler's  nephew  in  one  of  her 
most  successful  farces,  "The  Mix-Up." 
At  sixteen  he  was  a  call  boy  in  a 
Newark,  New  Jersey,  theater.  He 
played  stock  on  the  West  Ckjast  and 
in  the  East,  and  at  twenty-three  he 
organized  his  own  stock  company.  He 
stage-managed  and  acted,  picked  the 
furnishings  and  the  drapes  and  the 
props,  and  constituted  himseK  a  one- 
man  theatrical  enterprise. 

By  the  time  he  courted  success  on 
Broadway  he  had  learned  every  phase 
of  the  business.  After  that  he  went 
to  Hollywood  and  starred  in  motion 
pictures  for  a  number  of  years. 

But  this  television  theater  is  the 
most  exciting  thing  that  could  happen 
to  an  actor  of  his  calibre.  Didn't  I  tell 
you  that,  besides  talent,  it  takes  ex- 
perience, courage,  and  the  capacity  for 
taking  infinite  pains? 


HEART  OF  GOLD? 


Someone  whose  good  works  and  unselfishness 
deserve  recognition?    You  can  tell   about  it 
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For  details  of  the  "Heart  Of  Gold"  contest,  read 

the  current  issue  of  TRUE    ROMANCE 

magazine  now  on  sale. 


My  Husband,  Alan 
Young 

(Continued  from  page  55) 

ensuing  conversational  details.  Let  it 
suffice  that  Frank  is  a  born  agent  which 
means  he's  a  born  salesman;  finally  he 
sold  me  on  the  idea.  I  was  reluctant, 
but  I  went. 

My  escort  that  night  was  named  Alan 
Young.  He  had  been  in  New  York  about 
a  year,  I  had  heard  him  on  the  radio — 
and  he  was  a  complete  surprise.  He 
was  different.  He  honestly  was  bashful. 
It  took  him  half  of  the  evening  to  dis- 
cover which  girl  was  supposed  to  be 
his  date.  I  liked  him.  It  wasn't  pre- 
cisely one  of  those  zing-went-the- 
strings-of-my-heart  occasions,  but  I 
liked  him. 

ALAN  was  gay  and  amusing,  witty  and 
fun,  but  he  didn't  corner  the  conver- 
sation for  the  evening.  In  the  entertain- 
ment world  there  is  an  expression  for 
a  performer  who  always  is  acting:  "he's 
alwaj'S  on."  Most  comedians  are  con- 
stantly "on."    Alan  wasn't. 

Alan  asked  me  for  another  date.  In 
the  following  four  months  we  had  lots 
of  them,  and  invariably  we  went  to 
night  clubs.  At  the  end  of  that  time  I 
told  him,  "Alan,  I'm  a  frank  character. 
I  don't  like  night  clubs.  Would  you 
mind  if  we  go  someplace  else?" 

Such  a  sigh  of  relief  I've  never  heard 
from  anyone  as  the  one  which  followed 
from  A.  Young.  "Am  I  glad  to  hear 
that!"  he  admitted.  "I  thought  you 
were  the  New  York  type  who  loved 
them." 

So,  for  our  next  date  Alan  planned  a 
surprise.  He  took  me  to  one  of  New 
York's  swankiest  and  most  expensive 
French  restaurants.  He  ordered  guinea 
hen  under  glass,  and  it  was  as  tough  as 
the  glass  that  protected  it.  Then  we 
went  to  the  theater  to  see  "The  Late 
George  Apley,"  at  that  time  a  sell-out 
hit.  When  we  arrived  we  discovered 
that  some  enterprising  scalper  had  sold 
the  gullible  Alan  two  seats  in  the  same 
row — but  at  opposite  ends  of  the  row! 
Alan  finally  traded  them  for  box  seats, 
which  at  best  are  not  good  but  at  least 
they  were  together.  Poor  Alan,  he  was 
so  upset!  But  his  embarrassed  con- 
fusion made  me  like  him  all  the  more. 

After  that — never  underestimate  the 
power  of  a  woman — I  took  over,  gently 
but  firmly,  on  where  we  went  on  some 
of  our  dates.  Alan,  despite  his  year  in 
New  York,  was  still  rather  like  a  little 
boy  from  the  country.  (I  had  been  in 
Manhattan  about  four  years  so  I  was 
an  old  New  Yorker!) 

I  started  by  taking  him  sight-seeing. 
We  took  rides  on  the  Staten  Island 
ferry,  visited  the  Statue  of  Liberty, 
Chinatown  and  the  Bowery.  We  walked 
across  Brooklyn  Bridge.  Then  we  be- 
gan on  the  museums.  Alan  loved  them 
because  in  his  youth  he  wanted  to  be 
a  cartoonist,  has  a  real  flair  for  drawing 
and  a  great  appreciation  of  art. 

Our  Four  Chicks  and  a  Chuck  had 
meanwhile  been  booked — happy  cir- 
cumstance!— on  Alan's  radio  series. 
The  show  was  moved  to  California. 
Then  Alan  stayed  in  Hollywood  and  I 
went  back  to  New  York  on  another  job. 
Eventually  I  returned  to  Hollywood 
and,  briefly,  two  years  and  three  pro- 
posals after  that  agent-arranged  blind 
date  on  May  11,  1948,  I  became  Mrs. 
Alan  Young. 

Alan  hasn't  changed  in  the  years  I've 
known  him.  He's  fun  and  funny,  but 
not  always  "on."    Like  most  comedians 


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We're  Not  Supposed 

TO  FALL 
IN  LOVE! 


39 


What  do  two  young  people  do  when  the  powerful 
emotions  of  love  draw  them  closer  and  closer  to 
each  other  and  further  from  the  bounds  of  con- 
vention? Read  the  breathtakingly  tender  story  of 
Cathy  and  Pete  whose  love  hangs  in  the  balance  of 
one  fateful  night! 


in  March 


True  Story 


Now  At  All  Newsstands 


Other  Exciting  Stories  In  This  Issue: 


•  INDIAN  GIRL — The  ageless  story  of  an  Indian  maiden  who 

married    a    white    man    and    tried    to    bridge    the    gap 
between  their  backgrounds. 

•  WE  COULDN'T  AFFORD  OUR  BABY— Has  any  woman  the 

right  to  give  up  her  unborn  baby?     Read   Mary's  story 
...  the  ending  will  bring  tears  to  your  eyes. 

plus:  •  RALPH  EDWARDS  Tells  His  Own  True  .Story— How  he 
rose  to  his  current  popularity  as  radio's  top  master  of 
ceremonies. 

•  BAD  TOWN— The  Truth   About  Young  Morals  Honestly 

Portrayed. 


GET  YOUR  COPY  TODAY! 


iL 


R 

M 

80 


LISTEN   TO!     "My     True     Story' 
Monday-Friday   ABC   Stations 


All  this  and  much  more  — 
fashions,  beauty,  homemaking 
and  furnishing  features  you 
won't  want  to  miss  in  March 

True 
Story 


At  Newsstands  Everywhere 


he  worries  about  his  scripts,  but  not 
annoyingly.  There  is  no  pretense  in 
his  nature.  He  is  completely  the  artist- 
actor;  he  doesn't  try  to  be  the  handy 
man,  cabinet  maker  or  gardener  type. 
His  present  success  in  radio — with  Jim- 
my Durante  and  on  his  own  new  show, 
both  on  NBC — rests  very  lightly  indeed 
on  his  shoulders  and  I'm  sure  always 
will. 

Alan  was  born  in  England  of  Scot- 
tish parents  who  journeyed  to  Vancou- 
ver, British  Columbia,  when  he  was 
four.  A  few  years  thereafter  he  began 
sketching  and  planning  a  future  as  a 
cartoonist.  At  six,  however,  he  made 
his  stage  debut — just  a  walk-on  bit, 
but  it  sparked  the  idea  that  entertain- 
ing was  as  much  fun  as  cartooning.  At 
sixteen  he  decided  his  sense  of  humor 
might  be  more  profitable  on  the  air 
than  on  a  drawing  board  and  he  started 
earning  $2.20  a  performance  on  a  local 
radio  program. 

Alan  also  did  amateur  shows  in 
vaudeville,  was  a  junior  m.c.  at  Van- 
couver clubs  and  civic  organizations. 
After  he  graduated  from  high  school 
in  1938  he  was  hired  to  write  "Stag 
Party"  on  the  Canadian  Broadcasting 
Corporation  network.  It  was  an  after- 
thought that  he  was  starred  on  the  pro- 
gram; for  that  chore  he  received  $5 
extra! 

As  is  true  of  most  men  who  worked 
up  through  the  ranks  of  radio,  Alan 
became  a  utility  character  at  his  Van- 
couver station.  He  wrote  a  half-hour 
show,  acted  in  two  programs  a  week, 
was  an  assistant  news  editor  and  part- 
time  announcer,  for  all  of  which  he 
earned  $15  a  week.  When  he  asked  for 
a  raise  he  was  fired. 

iLAN  landed  on  his  feet,  however.  He 
was  signed  for  a  comedy  show  and 
after  a  hitch  in  the  Canadian  Navy  won 
a  similar  spot  in  Toronto  in  1942.  It  was 
on  the  latter  assignment  that  a  talent 
scout  in  New  York  heard  him  and  sug- 
gested that  he  come  to  the  United 
States.  In  1944  he  was  summer  re- 
placement for  Eddie  Cantor,  and  hailed 
as  the  great  new  comedy  find  of  the 
year.  The  Young  stock  went  up  and 
down  a  few  times  after  that,  but  now 
has  steadied  at  a  high  point. 

Besides,  Alan  now  is  doing  movies. 
He  made  his  screen  debut  in  "Margie," 
in  which  he  had  to  ice  skate.  The  di- 
rector, knowing  Alan  was  from  Canada, 
just  assumed  he  knew  how  to  skate. 
Alan  had  never  ventured  on  blades  in 
his  life;  Vancouver  doesn't  have  icy 
winters!  So  he  took  some  very  fast 
lessons  at  a  local  rink  and  felt  con- 
fident. 

When  he  reported  for  the  skating 
scenes  the  director  told  him  he  wasn't 
supposed  to  skate  too  well.  That  was 
fortunate.  Alan  is  by  nature  a  good 
athlete,  but  camera  jitters  combined 
with  uncertainty  on  his  skates  made 
him  fall  twice  during  the  sequence. 
"That  was  perfect!  Great  idea  for  you 
to  fall!"  the  director  told  him  later. 

Not  always  does  he  blunder  into 
things  so  conveniently.  There  was  the 
time,  shortly  after  we  were  married, 
when  we  were  invited  to  our  first  party 
at  Atwater  Kent's.  Those  parties  are 
always  plush  affairs,  so  I  had  bought  a 
silver  satin  evening  gown  and  spent 
most  of  the  afternoon  getting  ready. 
Alan  had  loaned  his  tuxedo  to  a  friend 
who  had  thoughtfully  sent  it  to  a  clean- 
er— I'd  like  to  meet  him  some  dark 
night! — and  returned  it  late  that  very 
day.  When  Alan  put  it  on  the  lapels 
drooped  like  a  bloodhound's  ears  and 
there  was  a  swag  effect  around  the 
waistline  like  the  valance  of  old  velours 


draperies.  Alan  agreed  with  my  pro- 
test that  he  couldn't  go  to  a  dog  fight  in 
that,  and  got  on  the  phone.  Eventually 
he  located  a  friend  whose  dinner  clothes 
were  available  and  would  fit. 

The  invitation  for  the  Kent  party 
read  8:30  and  Alan,  who  loves  to  eat. 
feared  that  did  not  imply  a  dinner 
party,  so  he  made  a  reservation  for  us 
at  the  Beverly  Hills  Hotel.  On  the  way 
we  ran  out  of  gas!  When  we  arrived, 
late  for  our  reservation  of  course,  there 
still  was  plenty  of  bowing  and  scrap- 
ing for  we  were  dressed  up  like  a  cou- 
ple of  Christmas  tress.  We  were  look- 
ing over  the  menu,  about  to  order  some- 
thing special — although  not  guinea  hen 
under  glass — when  Alan  put  his  hand 
in  his  pocket  and  discovered  he  had 
left  his  wallet  at  home.  Between  us  we 
had  about  two  dollars  in  change.  You 
never  saw  two  such  scarlet  faces  as 
bent  over  those  two  cheese  sandwiches 
we  ordered. 

We  arrived  at  Kent's  about  10:30, 
after  all  our  tribulations.  And  guess 
what?  There  was  the  most  beautiful 
buffet  supper  you  ever  saw! 

AS  YOU  might  imagine  from  Alan's 
heritage,  his  favorite  food  is  roast 
beef  with  Yorkshire  pudding,  which  I've 
learned  to  cook  to  his  satisfaction.  He 
also  favors  roast  lamb,  tea,  and  my  own 
special  way  of  making  baked  beans.  He 
seems  to  be  eating  all  the  time,  adores 
candy  and  chocolate  cake  and  when  he's 
around  the  house  is  constantly  experi- 
menting on  fresh  fruit  milk  shakes 
whipped  up  in  our  electric  mixer.  He 
also  makes  a  mean  batch  of  fudge! 

For  a  time  Alan  thought  a  man 
should  get  outdoors  more  often,  so  he 
tried  gardening.  He  bought  seed  flats, 
carefully  planted  the  seeds  in  a  special 
sand  mixture — so  deep  they  never 
germinated.  Extra  seeds  he  threw  away 
under  a  tree.  They  grew!  Then  our 
dogs.  Rocky  and  Freckles,  ripped  up 
most  of  the  plants  in  the  back  yard; 
only  the  thorns  on  the  roses  saved  them 
from  destruction.  Alan  stopped  gar- 
dening. 

Rocky  is  a  cocker  spaniel  that  Alan 
gave  me  as  a  wedding  present.  He  was 
just  a  pup,  but  he  moved  in  and  took 
over  the  household,  including  Freckles' 
bed.  Freckles  didn't  seem  to  mind.  He 
is  strictly  a  mutt,  but  Alan  and  I  both 
love  him.  However,  we  must  have  been 
paying  too  much  attention  to  the  newly 
arrived  Rocky  and  after  a  few  weeks 
Freckles  ran  away.  Now  follows  one 
of  those  long-arm-of-coinciden:'es 
which  seem  difficult  to  believe,  but  it's 
true. 

A  few  Christmases  ago  Alan  offered, 
through  the  local  papers,  to  give  a  dog 
to  eveiy  child  who  wanted  one  and 
would  sign  a  pledge  to  take  care  of  the 
pet  according  to  ten  rules  of  the  Alan 
Young  Dog  Club.  He  got  the  dogs  from 
the  Los  Angeles  pound,  paid  the  fees 
for  them  and  presented  them  complete 
with  dog  tags.  Recently  Alan  has  been 
working  with  Mickey  Finn,  the  re- 
markable young  Los  Angeles  policeman 
who  started  his  own  foundation  to 
combat  juvenile  delinquency.  Alan  now 
is  vice  president  of  the  Mickey  Finn 
Youth  Foundation  and  presents  dogs 
the  year  'round,  instead  of  just  at 
Christmas,  to  boys  who  will  take  care 
of  them,  in  the  very  sound  belief  that 
a  dog  is  good  for  a  boy's  morale. 

On  one  of  Alan's  routine  visits  to  the 
pound  a  few  days  after  Freckles  disap- 
peared, he  was  talking  with  one  of  the 
attendants  when  from  the  nearby  cage 
room  there  suddenly  came  loud  and 
persistent  barking  with  a  familiar  ring. 
You've     anticipated,     of     course,     that 


— you're  not  ready  j or  an 
adult  size  yet.  .  .  .  And 
mother  knows  it's  the 
same  in  aspirin — you're 
not  ready  for  a  5 -grain 
adult  size  tablet  be- 
cause it  doesn't  fit  your 
special  dosage  needs. 


^s**^ 


HERES  THE  ASPIRIN  TABLET  THAT 
YOUR  child's  NEEDS 


IT'S  ST.  JOSEPH  ASPIRIN 
FOR  CHILDREN!  Approved 
by  mothers  everywhere  because 
it  solves  child  dosage  problems 
and  eliminates  all  guesswork 
about  correct  dosage.  Easy  To 
Give  because  it's  not  necessary  to 
cut  or  break  tablets.  Assures  Ac- 
curate Dosage  because  each  tab- 
let contains  1  Vi  grains  of  aspirin 
—  Vi  the  regular  5-grain  adult 
tablet.  Easy  To  Take  because  it's 
orange  flavored  and  sweetened 
to  a  child's  taste.  Bottle  of  50 
tablets,  35c. 

Be  sure  to  always  ask  for  the 
original  and  genuine  St.  Joseph 
Aspirin  For  Children  because 
there  is  no  other  product  just 
like  it!    Buy  it  now! 


-  '-^  u  SFPu 


.t%3 


ST.  JOSEPH 
ASPIRIN  r 
FORCHILDREN 


Made  by  (he  Makers  of 

St.  Joseph  Aspirin 

World's  Largest  Seller  at  10c 


m\]^w^ 


*Hot  Buns,  Cold  Beverage  Happy 
inspiration — when  hunger  catches  up 
with  you,  somewhere  between  noon 
and  nightfall !  Treat  yourself — and  the 
home-from-school  crowd* —  to  frosty 
Dole  Pineapple  Juice  and  fresh  hot 
cross  buns.  How  good  that  sunny  juice 
tastes  going  down!  Just  as  good  for 
you,  too  —  Dole's  bright  with  good- 
ness, blessed  with  dancing  flavor.  Keep 
a  can  in  your  refrigerator — ready  for 
a  tropic  intermission,  any  time! 


(^  ^^AlllVVj  il(^ 


Freckles  had  recognized  Alan's  voice 
and  set  up  that  clamor  to  attract  atten- 
tion.    Freckles  hasn't  run  away  since. 

Alan  had  bought  our  house,  a  white 
clapboard  cottage  in  North  Hollywood, 
before  we  were  married,  but  he  gave 
me  a  free  hand  in  redecorating.  He 
agreed  that  he  liked  the  colors  I  chose — 
chartreuse  in  the  bathroom,  cocoa  brown 
in  our  small  sunny  dining  room,  gray- 
rose  in  the  bedroom  and  an  old  green  in 
the  kitchen.  His  sole  objection  was  to 
the  deep  gray  I  used  for  one  wall  in  the 
living  room.  He  said  it  was  too  close  to 
Battleship  Gray,  of  which  he  had  seen 
enough  in  the  Navy. 

As  I  said,  Alan's  not  the  handy  man 
around  the  house  that  you  read  about. 
Somehow  the  fires  he  builds  in  the  fire- 
place just  don't  burn.  (But  he  never 
fails  with  those  in  the  barbecue  pit. 
Do  you  suppose  he's  encouraged  by 
the  thought  of  food?)  With  all  good 
intentions  he  bought  a  Home  Manual, 
determined  to  learn  how  to  fix  things 
around  the  house.  His  first  try  was  to 
plaster  around  the  laundry  sink;  it  all 
flaked  ofi^.  Perhaps  that  is  why  now  he 
never  uses  the  work  bench  or  the  tools 
my  Dad  gave  him. 

But  one  can't  expect  everything. 
Much  more  important  to  me  is  the  fact 
that  he's  consistently  cheerful,  even 
early  in  the  morning  when  I  can't  say 
the  same  for  myself.  Alan  always  gets 
up  first,  makes  the  coffee  and  gives  the 
dogs  their  milk.  And  he's  warm-hearted 
and  sentimental — those  things  you  can't 
buy  for  all  the  money  in  the  world,  and 
goodness  knows  you  can  always  hire 
a  harxiyman!  And  furthermore,  I 
wouldn't  trade  Alan's  eye  for  women's 
clothes  for  all  the  plastering  skill  in  the 
world.  Several  times  he's  just  gone  off 
on  his  own  and  bought  me  things  he 
liked — and  what's  more,  I  liked  them 
too.  It's  not  any  old  husband  who  has 
this  particular  talent! 

WHEN  Alan  spent  several  weeks  in 
Dallas  with  the  Jimmy  Durante  show 
last  Autumn  he  brought  me  an  Empire 
style  dinner  dress  and  a  stunning  peg- 
top  skirt,  in  just  my  size.  As  he  gave 
them  to  me  he  said  he  hoped  we'd  never 
have  to  be  separated  again.  That's  one 
reason  why  I'm  not  trying  to  continue 
my  career,  although  I  was  trained  as 
both  a  coloratura  soprano  and  dancer. 

I'm  singing  now,  with  our  quintet,  on 
Alan's  show,  and  that's  fun — -working 
together — but  nothing  else.  I  want  to 
be  free  to  go  on  trips  with  him,  when 
he  wants  me,  as  I  did  on  the  location 
near  Reno  for  "Mr.  Belvedere  Goes  to 
College"  in  which  Alan  is  appearing 
with  Clifton  Webb  and  Shirley  Temple. 

Besides,  I  honestly  believe  that  one 
career  in  the  family  is  enough.  I  like 
being  domestic.  I  like  picking  up  the 
little  scraps  of  paper,  matchbooks  and 
old  cigarette  packages  on  which  Alan 
writes  gag  ideas  as  he  thinks  of  them. 
I  like  having  to  remind  him  of  appoint- 
ments, for  which  he  is  always  prompt, 
ij  he  remembers  them.  I  like  our  lazy 
evenings  at  home,  listening  to  records — 
mostly  classical,  but  Alan  also  has  a 
weakness  for  Spike  Jones.  I  like  dis- 
cussing the  books  we  read,  and  there 
Alan  is  always  way  ahead  of  me.  He 
reads  very  rapidly  and  always  three 
books  at  once — serious,  too.  I  like 
Alan's  sentimental  presents  to  me,  like 
the  heart-shaped  earrings  and  pin  he 
has  just  given  me. 

For  the  record,  I'll  admit  that  now  I 
am  a  hearty  rooter  for  blind  dates — in 
theory,  that  is.  For  myself — I'm  going 
steady  with  my  husband,  so  I'll  never 
need  a  blind  date  again. 


>^m^rlca'5  ^^oppin^  ^/on</er/and^ 


VARIETY  STOeiS 


. . .  famed  the  world  'round  for  penny-ful  You'll  find  it  at  the  "5  &  10",  because  the  Shopping  is  easier,  faster, more  convenient 
values,  "5  &  10"  variety  stores  feature  average  store  carries  many  thousands  of  in  "5  &  10"  variety  stores.  Open  display 
many  articles  at  original  pre-war  prices,     articles  for  the  family  and  the  home!     counters  .  .  .  easy  to  see,  easy  to  select. 


ir 


R^eliabiliUil 


In  an  era  of  soaring  living  costs,  "5  &  10"     The  integrity  of  famous  "5  &  10"  variety 

variety  stores  provide  first  aid  to  family     store  companies  is  a  bond  behind  every 

budgets  with  lowest  possible  prices,     article   displayed   on   their   counters. 

Nationally  Advertised  Brands  Week  in  Variety  Stores,  N.  Y.  C. 


To  emphasize  their  high  standards  of  qual- 
ity the  nation's  "5  &  10"  are  celebrating 
Nationally  Advertised  Brands  Week 
in  Variety  Stores  March  4  to  12,   1949. 


R 

M 

83 


...because  HOLD-BOB:    i-i'Iy 
hold.  The  perfection  of  this  beauty 
is  assured  because  those  perfect 
curls  are  formed  and  held  in 

place  gently,  yet  so  very 
securely,  by  this  truly  superior  bobby 
pin.  There  is.  nothing  finer. 

More  women  use 

HOLD-BOBS 

than  all  other 

bobby  pins  combined 


REG. 
PAT.   OFF. 


Life  Without  Father 

(Continued  from  page  33) 


HOLD-BOB*  is  a  GAYLA"  hair  beauty  aid 


dd49     CAYLORD 


ED,     CHICAGO.     ILt, 


admit  that  in  pioneer  days,  a  woman 
left  alone  with  children  to  care  for  was 
in  a  precarious  spot.  I  shrink  to  think 
of  firing  at  Indians  with  one  hand  and 
changing  diapers  with  the  other. 

I'm  not  going  to  be  dull  by  going  into 
all  the  reasons  why  family  life  as  lived 
in  the  dawn  of  history  has  no  relation 
to  family  life  today.  Avoiding  starva- 
tion was  a  two-party  undertaking  in 
the  days  of  the  dinosaurs.  The  man 
had  to  beat  a  bear  to  death;  the  woman 
had  to  skin  the  carcass  and  tan  the  hide 
to  make  a  blanket.  She  had  to  cook  the 
flesh  on  a  fire  built  by  an  antediluvian 
boy  scout.  She  had  to  dry  the  bones 
and  carve  them  with  stones  to  fashion 
her  kitchen  utensils. 

The  old  days  had  one  definite  ad- 
vantage over  our  era.  It  was  possible, 
even  as  recently  as  grandfather's  time, 
to  make  plans  for  the  future  with  a 
reasonable  hope  that  the  plans  would 
be  fulfilled.  "Security"  was  a  funda- 
mental word  with  unshakable  meaning. 
Families  lived  in  the  same  house 
through  succeeding  generations  for  a 
hundred  years.  Fortunes  could  be  es- 
tablished; a  way  of  life  could  be  built  up 
and  maintained. 

In  short,  our  American  world — -al- 
though vast  and  constantly  expanding 
— operated  along  established  lines.  Our 
grandparents'  era  was  a  closed  corpo- 
ration.   They  knew  it.    They  liked  it. 

Our  parents  made  the  nasty  discov- 
ery, revealed  by  the  first  World  War, 
that  an  ocean  no  longer  had  protective 
meaning.  Our  cherished  line  of  physi- 
cal security  had  been  wiped  out. 

The  country  was  just  beginning  to 
recover  from  that  shock  when  the  1930 
depression  broke  the  forlorn  news  that 
there  had  ceased  to  be  such  a  thing  as 
ecoriomic  security. 

World  War  II  introduced  such  chaos 
into  family  relationships  as  they  had 
never  before  known  in  America,  and 
the  development  of  the  atomic  bomb 
forever  blasted  from  the  minds  of 
thinking  people  any  conviction  that  the 
future  is  a  commodity  on  which  we  can 
count. 

Furthermore,  not  only  wars  and  de- 
pressions have  been  responsible  for 
dispersing  our  old  notions  of  security, 
but  the  small  facts  of  our  daily  life  have 
caused  them  to  vanish.  With  traffic  as 
cataclysmic  as  it  is  in  every  large  city 
today,  who  knows  when  he  will  start  to 
the  corner  drugstore  for  a  pack  of  ciga- 
rettes,  and  end  in  the  traction  ward. 


or  some  other  division  of  a  hospital? 

Considering  that  geographic,  eco- 
nomic, and  physical  security  are  things 
of  the  past,  I  suppose  we  human  beings 
would  be  in  a  bad  way  if  it  weren't  for 
the  fact  that  a  new  type  of  knowledge 
of  basic  human  needs  has  been  de- 
veloped. I  know  that  there  has  been  a 
good  deal  of  kidding  about  psychiatry; 
nevertheless,  the  earnest  people  I  know 
agree  that  our  only  chance  for  content- 
ment lies  in  understanding  one  another. 
We  must,  in  the  absence  of  all  other 
types,  establish  emotional  and  intellec- 
tual security. 

Psychiatrists  have  found  that  the 
very  first  need  of  a  child  is  to  be  loved. 
Tests  have  proved  that  it  is  definitely 
bad  for  a  child  to  grow  up  in  a  home 
where  there  is  obvious  friction.  If  one 
parent  gives  the  child  one  hxindred  per- 
cent love  and  understanding,  the  other 
parent  is  indifferent,  the  child  feels  only 
fifty  percent  successful.  Clearly,  some-| 
times  the  child  of  a  "broken"  home  has 
an  advantage  over  a  child  in  a  two-par- 
ent home,  if  those  parents  use  the  child 
as  a  net  across  which  to  fire  volleys  of 
anger  at  one  another.  And  we  know 
inescapably  that  the  "ideal" — or  even 
nearly  ideal — home,  in  which  both  par- 
ents are  emotionally  mature  and 
equipped  for  parenthood,  is  more  un- 
usual than  otherwise. 

I,  personally,  feel  that  there  is  too 
much  mish-mosh  in  the  business  of 
adopting  children.  An  adoptive  parent 
must  be  protected,  by  investigation,  of 
course,  and  a  child  must  be  placed  in 
an  investigated  home.  But  it  seems  to 
me  that  there  is  too  much  attention  paid 
to  absurd  detail.  For  instance,  there 
are  definite  rules  in  most  states  that  an 
adoptive  child  must  be  given  into  a 
home  which  has  so-many  square  feet 
of  floor  space  or  more,  thus-and-so 
much  window  space,  a  monthly  income 
of  such-and-such. 

Not  the  possession  of  some  riches, 
and  not  the  owning  of  a  certain  type  of 
home  in  a  certain  type  of  neighborhood, 
should  be  the  basis  for  awarding  chil- 
dren, but  a  study  of  the  adoptive  moth- 
er's capacity  for  love  and  her  ability 
to  meet  life  situations  with  mature 
common  sense. 

Although  I  hope  it  doesn't  sound  fatu- 
ous to  say  it,  I  feel  particularly  quali- 
fied to  write  about  the  one-parent  home 
because  I  was  what  is  now  described 
rather  pityingly  as  "a  child  of  divorce." 

Statistics     (Continued    on   page    86) 


Save  the  date 


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Are  you  in  the  know  ? 


How  to  cope  with  a 
cowlick  — 

n   Fight  it 

□  Favor  it 

□  Forget  it 

Ornery  critters  — cowlicks.  You  can  neither 
take  'em  or  leave  'em.  But  if  you  favor  a 
cowlick  by  parting  the  hair  directly  into  the 
center  of  that  stubborn  tuft  — it  behaves! 
There's  another  smart  plan  you  can  favor, 
at  certain  times.  That  s  trying  all  3  ab- 
sorbencies  of  Kotex — to  find  the  one  just 
right  for  you.  Regular,  Junior  and  Super 
are  designed  for  diiferent  girls,  different 
days.  Why  not  be  sure  to  have  a  Kotex 
napkin  that's  very  personally  yours? 


What  "new  note"  does  this 
coat  bring  ? 

D   Back  interest 

□  A  break  for  tall  teens 

□  Another  beauty  ritual 

Each  answer  is  correct.  The  coat  shown 
has  new  "back  interest;"  styling  that  flatters 
"glamazons."  The  new  beauty  ritual?  Neck 
care !  That  collar-rubbing  means  extra  scrub- 
bing and  softening  (with  lotion)  to  save 
your  neck.  Back  interest  in  dresses  is  often 
a  matter  of  eye-catching  trimming,  rather 
than  flare.  So  on  "those"  days,  choose  the 
napkin  that  prevents  telltale  outlines!  With 
those  special,  flat  pressed  ends  of  Kotex, 
you're  smooth— from  any  view! 


i 


Which  square  dance  is  he  calling? 

n   Birdie  in  the  Cage  D   Address  Partners  D   Dosey-do 


How  about  giving  a  square  dance  party! 
Scene:  your  home  (playroom  preferred!). 
Music:  courtesy  of  folk  dance  discs  or  the 
crowd's  own  vocal  cords.  First,  learn  the 
Steps   and   calls  — such   as   "Birdie   in  the 


Cage"  (see  picture  above).  Don't  let  difficult 
days  keep  yoM  "caged,"  when  Kotex  can  free 
you  from  discomfort.  Made  to  stay  soft  while 
you  wear  it,  Kotex  gives  softness  that  holds 
its  shape.  You're  ready  for  every  gay  fray ! 


^o/'e  tvo/rje^  cAoose  /COT&( 

S  ABSORBEf^C/ES.'  RE&UCAR,  JU/VfOR.  SUPER 


While  someone's  'phoning, 
should  friends  — 

□  Go  dumb 

□  Keep  talking 

n   Comment  on  the  conversation 

During  a  get-together,  if  a  keen  dean  gets  a 
buzz  — don't  let  your  conversation  lapse. 
You  may  think  it's  polite,  but  he''ll  think 
you're  listening!  So  keep  up  the  charmin' 
chatter  (tuned  low)  and  spare  the  buzz  boy 
needless  blushes.  Embarrassment  is  always 
needless,  for  clever  girls  — on  calendar  days. 
Because  with  the  extra  protection  of  Kotex, 
"accident"  worries  say  bye-bye  — thanks  to 
Kotex'  exclusive  safety  center.  Keeps  your 
confidence  shatter-proof! 


When  buying 
sanitary 
needs, 

should  you— 

n    Wait  'til  next  time 

n    Buy  a  new  sanitary  belt 

O    Buy  2  sanitary  belts 

After  a  bout  with  the  daily 
grind,  you  welcome  a  shower 
.  .  .  a  change  to  fresh  togs. 
Of  course!  But  to  make  your 
daintiness  complete,  on 
'those"  days  you'll  want  a 
fresh  sanitary  belt.  You'll  need 
two  Kotex  Sanitary  Belts,  for 
a  change. 

Remember,  the  Kotex  Belt  is 
made  to  lie  flat,  without  twist- 
ing or  curling.  You'll  find  your 
adjustable  Kotex  Belt  fits 
smoothly;  doesn't  bind.  (It's 
all-elastic.)  So -for  extra  com- 
lort,  choose  the  new  Kotex 
Sanitary  Belt,  and  buy  two- 
JOT  a  change! 

Kotex 

Sanitary 

Beit 


Buy  TWO -by  name! 


R 
M 

85 


NOW  I  FEEL  LIKE 

SIXTEEN 

AGAIN! 


"Droopy  posture  gone  .  .  .  low- 
down  feeling  banished  .  .  .  the 
energy  of  a  young  girl  recap- 
tured. .  .  ,  Tum-E-Lift  makes 
me  feel  like  a  new  woman 
again!" — such  are  the  phrases 
in  the  voluntary  testimonials 
we  constantly  receive.  For  ex- 
ample: "I  like  my  Tum-E-Lift 
...  I  feel  like  16  again  and  I 
am  37  now,"  says  Mrs.  A.  S. 
of   Detroit. 

Slo  don't  let  waistline  bulge 
aiid  a  tired  back  get  you  down  1 
Lift  up  that  dragging,  sagging 
abdomen  with  a  Tum-E-Lift, 
the  controlling,  slenderizing 
supporter-belt  which  brings  in- 
vigorating mid-section  comfort.       ™«-,.j_k^ 

You  fVill  Feel  New,  Too! 

Because  you'll  find  Tum-E-Lift  a  pleasure  to 
wear.  You'll  rejoice  in  its  energizing  all-day 
support.  Mrs.  C.  L.  of  Arizona  writes:  "I  can't 
tell  you  how  much  your  Tum-E-Lift  has  meant 
to  me.  It  made  a  lot  of  difference  in  my  figure, 
and  I  feel  great  comfort  wearing  it.  Don't 
think  I'll  be  able  to  do  without  it  again."  .  .  . 
Mail  coupon  below  for  your  Tum-E-Lift  today 
ON  10  DAYS  TRIAL  and  see  for  yourself 
how  it  will  make  you  feel  and  look  fresher  and 
younger  at  once! 


EASY  TO  SUP  ON  AND  OFF  t 

WITH  FRONT  LACES  FOR 
PERFECT  ADJUSTMENT 

Tum-E*Lift  la  scientifically  constructed 
to  provide  perfect  comfort,  perfect  sup- 
port, ritfhtweight— amazingly  strongi 
Adjustable  front  panels,  of  lustrous 
rayon  satin,  control  your  Agure  the  way 
you  want  It— merely  tighten  or  loosen 
the  laces— and  presto!  your  lYild-sectlon 
la  reshaped  to  a  slenderized,  beautiful 
flat-fronted  posture — and  with  energy- 
giving  comforti 

HOLLYWOOD  INSPIRED! 

HOLLYWOOD  DESIGNED! 

NEW   IMPROVED    MODEL 
Here's  the  secret  of  Tum-E-Lift— Ifs  made  of    ONLY 
2*way  s-t-r-e-t-c-h— a  Ilght-welght  "miracle"   -     -      '  ~ 
cloth  that's  powerfully  strong.    Washing  ac-  %^3^n 
tually    preserves    its    strength.     Long    metal  ■*'    i^w** 
ribs  In  front^short  ones  In  back— absolutely      ^^P^^ 

grevent     "rldlng-up".     curling,     rolling,     or 
ulgtng.     Detachable    garters.     Color:     Nude. 
Detachable   crotch  of  soft  melanese  for  personal   conven- 
ience.   Genuine    Tum-E-Lift    Is    an    exclusive,    slenderizing 
abdominal    support — obtainable    only    from    us— accept    no 
•ubstitutes.    Remember,    you    get    the    same 
fit    and    comfort    you    would    expect    from    a 
made-to-order  aunnorter-belt  costing   2  to  3 
times  the  price  of  Tum<E-Lift. 
LOOK  INCHES  SLIMMER  AT   ONCEt 
Just  like  magic.    Tum-E-Lift  smooths  and 
lifts     your     balglng     "tummy",      lending 
prompt  and  com/orxable  support  to  weak- 
ened abdominal  muscles.    You  look  Inches 
slimmer     instantly.       Yet.     Tum-E-Lift     is 
flexible— it    allows    complete    freedom    of 
movement.    Bend,  stoop,  walk.  sit.  recline 
—this    marvelous    support    la    always    de- 
Ilghtfully   comfortable.     Yes.    the    vitality 
and  comfort  you  get  from  Tum-E-Lift  will 
actually  Increase  from  day  to  day. 
SEND  NO   MONEY.     For  thrilling  satisfac- 
tion,   try  the   slenderizing   Tum-E-Lift   on 
1 0-DAY     TRIAL.       Send     no     money— Just 
mail  coupon.    Pay  postman  $3.98  plus  few 
cents    postage    when    package    arrives.      If 
Tum-E-Lift    doesn't    make     "a    world     of 
difference"   send   It  back  and  your  $3.98 
will   be  promptly   refunded. 

^  ■■  H  ■  FREE  TRIAL  COUPON 

Is.  J.  WEGMAN  CO.,Oept.864 
9  East  45th  street.  New  YorR  17,  N.V. 
Send  me  for  10  days'  approval  ....  genuine  Holly-  ^ 
■  wood  Tum-E'Lift  Supporters.  I  will  pay  postman  $3.98  ■ 
each  plus  postage.  ($4.98  if  over  size  38).  If  not  100«5'o  ■ 
satlsned,  I  may  return  it  for  refund.  I  enclose  dlmen-  m 
I  slons  asked   for  in  picture  above.     My  present   waist  ■ 


measure  is.. 


.  HIPB  are (Waist  sizes' 


from    22    inches.)    Height    Is    I    am  ^ 

■  accustomed  to  wearing:  a  O  long,  short  a  elrdle.  ■ 

Send  also extra  crotches  at  59e  each.  ■ 

■    Name , I 
AildltM ^ 

■   CltT St.t. I 
n  W«  oay  poiitBKe  if  you  encloae  payment  now. 
_        TUM^-LIFT  IS  OBTAINABLC  ONLY  FROM  US.         || 


86 


{Continued  from  page  84)  indicate  that 
most  juvenile  delinquents  come  from 
broken  homes,  but  I  have  a  strong  sus- 
picion that  broken  homes  are  not  the 
primary  cause  of  delinquency.  The 
trouble  usually  lies  in  the  fact  that  the 
parents  of  delinquents  were  human 
beings  who  did  not  want  to  be  parents 
in  the  first  place,  and  made  no  attempt 
to  mature  into  proper  parents. 

I  am  also  putting  out  my  neck  when 
I  say  that  too  many  women  use  the 
alleged  horrors  of  the  "broken  home" 
as  a  cudgel  to  keep  their  husbands  in 
line,  but  I'm  afraid  it's  the  truth.  It 
is  easier  for  some  women  to  scare  good 
old  John  by  pointing  out  the  miserable 
fate  that  would  snatch  Baby  if  John 
were  to  run  out,  than  it  is  to  be  a  good 
and  competent  wife.  Too  many  women 
use  "scare"  tactics  involving  their  chil- 
dren in  order  to  save  their  marriages. 

IN  THE  case  of  my  own  childhood,  I 
was  very  small  when  my  parents 
parted.  I  had  no  sense  of  loss  or  de- 
privation at  all.  My  mother,  a  rare 
human  being,  completely  satisfied  my 
need  to  feel  loved  and  protected.  More- 
over, she  studied  constantly  so  that 
she  grew  up  along  with  me. 

I  knew  that  some  of  the  other  .chil- 
dren at  school  had  fathers,  of  course, 
but  there  were  several  children  like 
me  whose  fathers  were  divorced  or 
dead.  I  accepted  my  parental  situation 
as  casually  as  I  accepted  the  fact  that 
I  had  blonde  hair  and  blue  eyes. 

One  fact  which  is,  I  sometimes  think, 
overlooked  by  the  mourners  who  decry 
the  one-parent  home,  is  that  all  human 
beings  live  in  a  private  world  in  which 
they  are  the  core.  A  child  is  the  star 
of  his  own  life  drama,  and  he  or  she 
is  interested  in  parents  primarily  as 
they  contribute  to  that  drama — as  bit 
players,  of  course. 

When  my  mother  said  "no,"  that  was 
final;  I  couldn't  take  the  question  to  a 
higher  court.  When  I  had  spent  my 
pocket  money,  it  was  gone  (a  good 
lesson  to  learn  in  this  world  in  which, 
unfortunately,  money-trees  do  not 
grow.)  When  there  was  a  circus  in 
town,  Mother  arranged  for  me  to  go  if 
we  could  afford  it  and  if  she  could 
make  arrangements  to  accompany  me 
herself  or  to  have  someone  take  me. 
(It  was  good  for  me  to  learn  early  that 
gratification  of  my  desires  was  then — 
and  would  always  be — dependent  upon 
the  plans  of  those  with  whom  I  lived.) 

I  am  trying  to  instill  those  concepts 
in  my  two  young  daughters.  Even  now, 
when  Liza  insists  that  I  remain  at  home 
to  play  with  her  instead  of  going  to 
the  studio,  I  explain  that  men  and 
women  must  work  in  this  world.  She 
must  pick  up  her  toys  every  day,  she 
must  hang  up  her  clothes,  she  must 
help  Nana  look  after  Baby  Constance 
.  .  .  and  I  must  go  to  the  studio.  One 
parent  can  teach  that  cardinal  lesson 
as  well  as  two — though,  of  course,  two 
whose  ideas  and  projects  are  shared 
make  an  unbeatable  combination. 

Far  happier  is  the  home  ruled  by  one 
understanding,  firm  but  loving  and  rea- 
sonable parent,  than  a  home  in  which 
the  stupidity  of  one  adult  nullifies  the 
efforts  of  the  other  no  matter  how  wise 
and  affectionate  those  efforts  may  be. 

I  am  deeply  thankful  that  the  termin- 
ation of  my  own  marriage  was  entirely 
cordial  and  that  my  former  husband 
and  I  are  good  friends  and  see  one  an- 
other often.  The  thing  that  happened 
to  us  also  happened  to  thousands  of 
couples  throughout  the  world. 

We  wanted  children;  nature  did  not 
provide  them,  so  we  adopted  Liza.  Then 
my  husband  went  to  war  and  when  he 


returned  we  made  the  rather  ordinary 
discovery  that  we  had  become 
strangers.  We  tried  to  work  out  our 
personality  differences,  but  fo"nd  that 
it  was  impossible.  We  had  ti^veled  too 
far  in  opposite  directions;  we  had  be- 
come quite  different  types  of  people 
from  what  we  had  been  when  we  were 
first  married. 

My  former  husband  is  a  frequent 
visitor  in  our  home  and  Liza  calls  him 
"Daddy."  He  is  an  accepted  part  of 
her  life.  She  has  the  advantage  of  the 
occasional  presence  of  a  man  around 
the  house. 

However,  had  I  been  widowed  by  the 
war  (thank  God  I  was  not)  as  so  many 
girls  were,  I  would  still  have  found 
many  ways  of  entertaining  my  married 
girl  friends  and  their  husbands  so  that 
Liza — arid  now  Constance — would  have 
become  accustomed  to  the  idea  that  the 
human  species  is  divided  into  two 
sexes. 

During  my  own  childhood  I  can  re- 
member that  my  only  emotional  hun- 
ger was  for  brothers  and  sisters.  My 
mother  satisfied  my  need  for  authori- 
tative care  and  affection,  but  I  yearned 
for  someone  of  my  own  generation. 
Even  when  my  young  friends  quarreled 
with  their  brothers  and  sisters,  I  was 
envious.  Those  quarrels  seemed  like 
the  hidden  face  of  the  moon:  some- 
thing dark  which  had  a  marvelously 
bright  side.  The  arguments  and  the 
agreements  were  two  necessary  parts 
of  family  life — and  a  good  and  neces- 
sary toughening-up  process,  too. 

I  made  up  for  my  lack  of  blood 
brothers  and  sisters  by  adopting  all  the 
neighborhood  children.  I  was  always 
bringing  some  child  home  after  school, 
washing  its  face  and  hands,  and  feed- 
ing it  cookies.  "When  I  get  big,"  I  used 
to  tell  my  mother,  "I'm  going  to  adopt 
ten  or  twelve  babies." 

For  some  obscure  reason  I  never  had 
the  idea — as  my  friends  did — that  I 
would  bear  children.  My  babies  were 
to  be  adopted. 

WHEN  we  secured  our  brown-eyed 
Liza,  I  began  to  prepare  her  for  the 
advent  of  future  brothers  and  sisters. 
When  I  went  to  call  upon  friends  who 
had  a  new  baby,  I  tried  to  take  Liza 
along.  I  had  her  extend  her  chubby 
finger  to  be  clasped  by  the  baby's  hand; 
I  called  upon  her  to  admire  the  baby's 
tinv  feet,  funny  little  nose,  and  fat 
cheeks.  I  always  referred  to  Liza's 
dolls  as  her  babies. 

Just  as  I  had  hoped,  Liza  began  to 
ask  when  we  were  going  to  have  a  new 
baby  of  our  own. 

The  newcomer  turned  out  to  be 
Constance,  who  has  blue  eyes,  dimples, 
and  the  disposition  of  a  cocker  span- 
iel Duppy.  Liza  thinks  her  baby  sister 
is  the  most  entertaining  thing  in  the 
world. 

During  the  first  few  months  after 
Constance's  arrival,  I  was  careful  not 
to  hold  her  and  fuss  over  her  without 
first  cuddling  Liza,  and  then  suggesting 
that  we  pick  up  the  baby  and  teach  her 
to  talk. 

Liza  has  been  my  partner  in  rearing 
Constance,  so  there  is  a  fine  devotion — 
instead  of  a  rivalry — deepening  be- 
tween them.  In  all  these  months,  Liza 
has  voiced  only  one  criticism  of  her 
small  sister.  When  Constance  began  to 
cut  teeth,  she  drooled  all  the  time. 
Liza  dried  the  round  pink  chin  again 
and  again,  using  the  gentlest  motion. 

Finally,  however,  she  said  to  me  with 
a  sigh,  "Mother,  that  baby  is  just  too 
juicy." 

When  Liza  was  just  past  two,  I  made 
arrangements  for  her  to  attend  nursery 


school  a  few  hours  each  day.  I  felt 
that  this  was  an  important  part  of  her 
development,  and  I  wanted  her  to  be 
around  little  boys  so  that  she  could  get 
used  to  the  idea  of  having  a  small 
brother.  We  are  now  ready  for  a  boy 
in  our  household  whenever  the  agency 
can  find  one  for  us,  as  revealed  by 
Liza's  recent  observation,  "When  our 
brother  gets  here,  I  hope  he's  nice  like 
Bobby  instead  of  being  a  cry-baby  like 
Jack,"  she  observed  in  reference  to  two 
of  her  nursery  school  buddies. 

"If  he  starts  to  be  a  cry-baby  like 
Jack,"  I  suggested,  "we'll  simply  have 
to  teach  him  better.  We'll  have  to 
help  him." 

"Constance  gets  nicer  all  the  time, 
so  I  guess  a  brother  would  too,"  said 
my  philsosopher! 

I  intend  for  my  children,  both  boys 
and  girls,  to  attend  co-educational  pub- 
lic schools  throughout  their  educational 
training.  I  believe  strongly  that  all 
American  children  should  be  trained 
in  our  public  school  system,  and  I  be- 
lieve, kingsize,  that  children  of  sin- 
gleton parents  should  have  the  ad- 
vantage of  mingling  with  children  of 
both  sexes  and  getting  to  know  young- 
sters from  many  different  types  of 
homes. 

tlHILDREN  are  more  analytical  than 
'  the  average  adult  thinks,  and — if 
given  very  little  guidance — can  arrive 
at  correct  interpretations  of  life.  A  child 
who  sees  many  homes  and  meets  many 
children  is  better  equipped  to  meet  all 
types  of  social  emergencies  than  one 
whose  field  is  limited.  Singleton  par- 
ents are  sometimes  more  acutely  aware 
of  this  need  than  team  parents. 

Another  pet  theory  of  mine  is  that 
every  child  should  learn,  early,  how 
to  earn  money.  I  think  that  one  of  the 
saddest  things  that  can  happen  to  a 
person  is  to  inherit  vast  wealth  which 
has  been  unearned.  Everything  has  to 
be  paid  for  in  this  world,  and  I 
wouldn't  want  my  children  to  pay  for 
economic  security  by  giving  up  the  self- 
respect  that  comes  from  knowing  that 
one  can  earn  his  own  keep. 

After  I  have  given  the  above  fifteen- 
minute  le'^ture  on  one-person  parent- 
age, my  lon^-suffering  friends  usually 
observe,  "So  you  don't  plan  to  marry 
again?" 

That  gets  a  big  rise  out  of  me.  Of 
course  I  h.or)e  (one  can't  "plan"  such  a 
thing)  to  marry  again.  I  would  make  it 
a  point  to  have  the  candidate  join  us 
for  dinner  often  before  we  made  mar-  i 
riage  plans  so  that  I  could  indoctrinate 
my  family,  while  making  notes  of  the 
man's  candid  attitude.  I  would  want 
to  be  quite  certain  that  he  wasn't  pre- 
tending an  interest  he  didn't  really 
feel,  simply  to  be  polite  to  the  children. 

Once  I  had  satisfied  myself  that  we 
were  right  for  the  man  and  he  was 
risrht  for  us,  I  would  marry  without 
hesitation. 

However,  I  don't  want  my  motives 
to  be  misunderstood.  I  would  marry 
again,  not  because  I  think  it  is  difficult 
or  hazardous  for  a  woman  to  bring  up 
a  family  alone,  but  simply  because  I 
think  a  woman  needs  a  husband  every 
bit  as  much  as  she  needs  children. 
Everyone's  life  should  be  as  complete 
as  it's  possible  to  make  it! 

Children  belong,  not  to  their  parent 
,  or  parents,  but  to  the  future. 

A  real  home  houses  love  and  mutual 
respect  between  the  generations.  It  is 
wonderful  if  that  older  generation  con- 
sists of  a  man  and  a  woman  who  are 
equal  partners;  wonderful,  but  not 
absolutely  necessary,  for  the  welfare 
of  the  children! 


Lots  of  our  customers  are  converts 


In  recent  months  many  young  house- 
keepers have  learned  a  valuable  lesson 
— "you  can't  wash  clothes  with  coupons". 
Nearly  every  day  this  very  practical 
experience  makes  more  converts  to 
Fels-Naptha  Soap. 

It  doesn't  take  long  to  see  why 

Fels-Naptha  is  the  real  'bargain'  in 

laundry  soap.  Fels-Naptha  combines 

two  great  cleaners — mild,  golden  soap 

and  active  naptha.  It  gets  out  the  grime 

most  soaps  can't  budge.  It  is  quick  and 

ever  so  gentle  with  delicate  fabrics — 

especially  baby  things.  It's  a  positive  time 

and  labor  saver  for  "The  Lady  of  The  House". 

These  are  the  "specials"  and  "extras"  you  always  get 
with  Fels-Naptha  Soap  . .  .  at  a  fair  and  modest  price. 


MADE  IN  PHILA, 
BY  FELS  &  CO. 


GOLDEN  BAR  OR  GOLDEN  CHIPS 

Fels-Naptha  Soap 

BANISHES  "TATTLE-TALE  GRAY" 


R 
M 

87 


NO  BELTS  i 
NO  PINS 
NO  PADS 
NO  ODOR 


Please  don't  walk  away  or  turn  a  deaf 
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world — not  once,  but  thirteen 
times  a  year.  ...  As  you  already 
have  guessed,  the  subject  under 
discussion  is  a  wholly  feminine 
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But  the  "big"  news  deals  with  a  very 
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f  (0*' 


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This  Quiz  Business 

{Continued   from   page   31) 


intended  to  spend  only  the  summer  in 
Chicago.  In  my  pocket,  I  proudly  car- 
ried the  draft  of  a  contract  to  teach 
that  coming  fall  at  Northwestern  Col- 
lege, Alva,  Oklahoma. 

That  June,  I  had  been  graduated  from 
Southwestern  College,  Weatherford, 
Oklahoma.  Weatherford  was  my  home 
town.  My  folks  had  moved  there  when 
I  was  five.  And  even  then,  I  was  in- 
terested in  dramatics. 

MY  FOLKS  viewed  my  interest  first 
with  apprehension,  finally  with 
sympathy.  They  ended  up  by  sending 
me  to  a  dramatic  school.  Here,  I  ca- 
vorted around  to  my  heart's  content. 

Shortly  after  I  was  graduated,  I  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  my  Chicago  uncle, 
asking  whether  I  wouir  care  to  work 
in  his  firm  that  summer. 

It  was  during  that  summer  that  I  was 
bitten  by  the  radio  bug.  I  sensed  its 
vast  possibilities,  its  tremendous  future. 

And  I  wanted  to  be  a  part  of  that 
future. 

At  the  end  of  the  summer,  I  wrote  to 
Northwestern  declining  the  teaching 
job.  I  decided  to  stay  on  in  Chicago 
and  make  a  place  for  myself  in  the 
gangly  and  adolescent  world  of  radio. 

My  first  job  on  the  air  was  to  read 
poetry  twice  a  week. 

Soon  after,  I  was  in  charge  of  a  news 
broadcast.  I  worked  mycelf  into  a  good 
spot;  I  became  sports  announcer. 

Then,  at  long  last,  I  landed  the  posi- 
tion of  a  disc  jockey.  It  was  here  I 
found  myself. 

It  all  happened  accidentally. 

One  afternoon,  while  awaiting  the 
signal  to  go  on  the  air,  I  sudden- 
ly decided  to  toss  away  my  prepared 
script  and  just  let  myself  go.  During 
the  intervals  in  which  I  changed  the 
records,  I  spoke  about  everything  un- 
der the  sun,  ranging  from  the  latest 
women's  fashions  to  Adolph  Hitler's 
mustache. 

When  the  program  was  over,  the  men 
in  the  control  room  marched  out  and 
strode  over  to  me.  Before  I  could  apolo- 
gize, they  had  surrounded  me,  congrat- 
ulating me  on  my  "swell  show." 

Frankly,  I  was  a  little  bewildered 
by  their  praise. 

I  asked  one  of  them,  an  electrician, 
why  he  had  liked  the  show  so  much. 

"I  couldn't  say  exactly,"  he  respond- 
ed. "It  iust  struck  me  right,  that's  all. 
I  guess  it  was  because  you  were  acting 
yourself  all  the  way  through.  And  that's 
what  I  like  to  see  and  hear  the  best — 
people  acting  themselves." 

What  a  debt  I  owe  that  man!  It  was 
he  who  put  me  on  the  right  track.  It 
was  he  who,  unwittingly,  gave  me  the 
idea  of  putting  on  a  show  that  would 
be  spontaneous  and  unrehearsed.  A 
show  that  would  do  away  with  paid 
writers  and  paid  performers.  A  show 
that  would  write  itself  while  on  the  air. 
A  show  whose  star  performers  would 
be  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Average  Citizen  play- 
ing themseleves.  A  show  in  which  I 
could  extract  all  the  natural  wit  and 
humor  and  shrewdness  inherent  in  the 
American  people. 

A  QUIZ  show  was  the  only  answer.   It 
was  the  perfect  hat  rack  for  the  type 
of  entertainment  I  envisioned. 

I  put  my  first  quiz  on  the  air  in  1936. 
I've  been  in  the  business  ever  since. 

I  go  to  the  studio,  on  quiz  show  night, 
with  twelve  to  fourteen  question  rou- 
tines which  I  have  prepared  for  the 
evening's  program. 


By  the  time  I  arrive  there,  the  con- 
testants have  already  been  chosen  from 
among  the  audience;  an  assistant  of 
mine,  Art  Gentry,  has  seen  to  that  job. 

Finally,  the  show  goes  onthe  air.  The 
first  contestant  is  called,  /rlis  name  is 
Tom  Smith.  He's  married  and  has  two 
kids.  Tom  owns  a  hardware  store  in 
Lansing,  Michigan.  He  is  here  in  New 
York  City  on  a  two-week  vacation  with 
his  wife  and  children. 

Tom  is  nervous.  His  hands  are  trem- 
bling. He  keeps  darting  frightened 
glances  at  the  microphone. 

I  spend  the  next  thirty  to  forty  sec- 
onds kidding  around  with  Tom.  I'm 
trying  to  put  him  at  his  ease. 

But  my  harmless,  bland  bantering 
also  serves  another  purpose.  During 
these  thirty  to  forty  seconds,  I'm  test- 
ing Tom,  feeling  out  his  interests  and 
range  of  knowledge. 

I  finally  decided  that  sports  is  the  field 
with  which  Tom  is  best  acquainted.  I 
take  out  my  sports  routine  and  proceed 
with  the  qtiestions.  I  am  on  the  alert 
lest  Tom  make  a  bad  slip.  A  decent, 
humane  quiz  master  will  never  allow 
the  audience  to  laugh  at  any  blunder 
committed  by  the  contestant.  If  Tom 
should  make  such  a  slip,  I  am  prepared 
to  cover  up  for  him  immediately. 

Tom  fails  on  the  third  question.  He 
doesn't  take  his  defeat  badly.  He's  had 
a  terrific  experience  up  there  in  front 
of  the  mike  and  he  knows  it.  And  the 
crowd  in  the  studio  gives  him  a  big, 
sympathetic  hand. 

The  next  contestant,  a  woman,  is 
called.  With  her,  and  with  all  the  suc- 
ceeding contestants,  I  follow  exactly 
the  same  pattern  of  conduct  I  employed 
with  Tom. 

From  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  my 
program,  I  am  busy  working  away  on 
my  contestants,  trying  to  open  them  up, 
to  get  them  to  think  freely,  to  talk  free- 
ly, and  to  act  freely. 

Before  signing  off,  I  want  to  say 
that  I  didn't  intend  this  piece  to 
be  an  unalloyed  eulogy  of  the  quiz 
programs. 

There  are  some  pretty  serious  defects 
in  the  way  rome  of  the  present  quiz 
shows  are  being  run.  I'd  be  the  last  to 
deny  it. 

For  instance,  I  am  completely  against 
the  huge  prizes  offered  by  some  of  the 
quizzes.  I  have  a  very  decided  feeling 
that  the  sponsors  of  these  shows  are 
attempting  to  gain  an  audience  by  the 
size  of  their  awards  rather  than  by  the 
excellence  of  their  entertainment. 

SPEAKING  for  myself,  I  wouldn't  tol- 
erate the  device  of  large  prizes  on  my 
program.  It  would  destroy  the  entire 
atmosphere  of  my  show.  When  people 
are  competing  for  $5,000  or  $10,000  in 
prizes,  all  naturalness,  all  friendliness, 
all  folksiness,  fly  out  of  the  window. 
Then  the  Quiz,  instead  of  being  enter- 
tainment, becomes  a  tense,  grim  sort 
of  business-like  playing  a  roulette 
wheel. 

But  outside  of  this  accusation,  I 
doubt  whether  any  other  serious 
charges  could  be  flung  at  the  quizzes. 
At  any  rate,  there  can  be  nothing  wrong 
with  a  quiz  show  as  such;  there  can  be 
only  something  wrong  in  the  way  a 
quiz  is  handled. 

If  a  quiz  is  controlled  correctly,  if  its 
sponsor  and  quiz  master  hew  to  the 
proper  line,  it  should  outlast  any  other 
program  on  the  air. 

There's  only  one  thing  that  can  beat 
a  good  quiz  show  ...  a  better  quiz  show. 


Come  and  Visit  Amos 

(Continued  jrom  page  27) 

might  be  married.  Just  a  fast  minute, 
though.  One  look  at  the  wedding  ring 
finger,  and  three  quick  questions,  and  I 
had  determined  the  status  quo.  I  spent 
the  whole  evening  talking  to  her  and 
finding  out  all  about  her — and  then 
didn't  go  out  with  her  again  for  a  year 
and  a  half. 

"Jane  was  from  the  east — New  York. 
The  family  lived  in  Westchester,  and 
her  old  man  was  Charles  Stoneham, 
owner  of  the  New  York  Giants.  Jane 
and  her  brother  still  have  an  interest 
in  the  team.  I  don't  have  any  stock  in 
it,  but  I  think  I'd  like  to  get  some.  I'm 
interested  in  baseball.  Jane  is  a  quiet 
girl.    She  never  was  in  our  business. 

"INYWAY,  like  I  say,  she  and  her 
A  brother  and  mother  were  living  right 
out  here  in  the  valley,  but  we  didn't 
start  seeing  each  other  for  a  long  time. 
One  night  a  friend  of  mine,  Paul  Hesse, 
the  photographer,  wanted  me  to  go  out 
to  dinner.  'Get  me  a  girl,'  he  said.  I 
told  him  'That's  carrying  coals  to  New- 
castle— you  have  forty  gorgeous  models, 
forty.'  He  said,  'I  know,  but  I  want  to 
meet  someone  new.'  So  I  said,  'I  know 
someone  you  might  like,'  and  I  called 
up  Jane  and  said  'Let's  all  go  out  to- 
gether— I'll  chaperone  you.'  We  went 
to  dinner  some  place,  and  Jane  looked 
so  darned  cute  that  I  paid  the  check 
to  make  an  impression — and  asked  her 
out  the  following  night  for  dinner — 
alone  this  time.  That  did  it.  We  went 
together  about  a  year  before  we  were 
married." 

Freeman  and  Jane  were  married  on 
September  1,  1944  at  a  ranch  up  in  the 
heart  of  the  redwood  country.  The 
place  was  the  home  of  their  friends, 
the  Stanwood  Murphys.  Murphy  is  the 
president  of  the  Pacific  Lumber  Com- 
pany. Everything  in  the  house  is  built 
of  redwood,  including  the  dishes.  A 
stream  runs  through  the  house — you 
can  fish  off  the  front  porch. 

"Jane  and  I  had  planned  to  spend  a 
week  there  as  a  sort  of  vacation.  The 
kids — my  two  kids.  Freeman  and  Vir- 
ginia— were  with  us.  And  we  were 
going  to  come  back  to  Hollywood 
and  be  married  September  5,  in  1944. 
But  the  Murphys  thought  it  would  be 
nice  to  have  the  marriage  up  there,  so  we 
agreed.  Charlie  and  Alyce  ( the  'Andys' ) 
drove  up  and  brought  a  little  portable 
foot  organ  for  Charlie  to  play.  Because 
we  changed  the  date  from  the  fifth  to 
the  first,  I  took  a  fingernail  file  and 
changed  the  date  from  5  to  1  on  the  in- 
side of  the  wedding  ring.  For  gosh 
sakes,  the  preacher's  name  was  Andy! 
Andy  Anderson,  from  Eureka." 

Charlie  played  the  wedding  march 
for  his  partner's  marriage  on  the  little 
portable  organ.  Freeman  Jr.  and  Vir- 
ginia stood  up  as  best  man  and  maid  of 
honor.  Jane  and  Freeman ,  went  on  a 
fishing  trip  for  their  honeymoon. 

Not  content  with  being  a  one-man 
orchestra  for  the  newlyweds,  Charlie 
Correll  found  the  house  for  them  in 
Beverly  Hills.  When  Freeman  and 
Jane  came  home,  they  got  to  work 
remodeling  it  together,  putting  in 
everything  that  they  both  wanted. 

"Everything  they  both  wanted"  has 
accomplished  a  miracle  in  the  way  of  a 
gracious  home.  The  house  is  smooth- 
looking,  with  simple,  plain  lines,  from 
the  outside.  A  small  place,  California- 
Mediterranean  style  white  stucco,  only 
five  rooms.  They  took  out  the  whole 
inside  and  opened  little  rooms  into  each 
other,  making  large  o"es. 


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Their  outside  garden  is  their  living 
room  most  of  the  year.  They  have  great 
fl[oor-to-ceiling  windows  which  open 
into  the  garden  from  the  main  section  of 
the  house,  making  each  a  part  of  the 
other.  This  arrangement,  by  which  the 
garden  is  brought  into  the  house,  gives 
a  feeling  not  of  a  small  place,  but  of  a 
great  deal  more  space  than  actually  ex- 
ists. But  two  servants  can  take  care  of 
all  household  needs. 

"We're  all  on  one  floor,"  Gosden  says. 
"Hallway,  living  room,  sun  room,  and 
library — and  two  bedrooms.  That's  all 
we  need.  Virginia,  my  daughter,  who 
is  eighteen,  goes  to  Bradford  Junior 
College  in  Massachusetts.  When  she's 
home,  she  uses  one  bedroom,  and  Jane 
and  I  have  the  other.  When  Freeman 
Jr.  is  home,  he  sleeps  out  in  the  guest 
house  over  the  garage.  He's  twenty,  a 
junior  at  Princeton.  The  two  of  them 
come  home  in  the  summer  time  and  at 
Christmas.  Virginia  graduates  this 
June,  and  we're  going  to  the  graduation 
if  we  have  to  move  the  show!" 

Freeman's  children  are  by  his  first 
marriage.  He  was  a  widower  for  some 
years  after  his  first  wife's  death. 

The  Gosden  place  is  one  of  the  pret- 
tiest small  houses  in  Beverly  Hills, 
beautifully  decorated  and  appointed. 
The  color  throughout  the  house  is  a 
restful  bottle-green  and  white.  Their 
furniture  shows  exquisite  taste.  Mod- 
erns and  antiques  are  combined  for 
unusual  effect.  Beautiful  French  Vic- 
torian chandeliers  and  candelabra  re- 
flect themselves  in  the  many  smoked 
mirrors  which  line  the  walls  to  make 
the  place  seem  larger. 

They  have  no  "collection"  of  art,  but 
what  they  have  is  carefully  selected 
for  their  own  pleasure  rather  than  fad 
or  style.  A  wonderful  Grandma  Moses 
painting  .is  prized  by  both  of  them. 
Freeman's  most  important  hobby  is 
short  wave  radio.  He  has  a  transmit- 
ter at  the  house  and  spends  a  lot  of 
time  contacting  other  "hams." 

"The  other  night  I  was  talking,"  Free- 
man said,  "and  a  guy  in  Cleveland  came 
on.  I  listened  and  then  responded,  and 
he  said,  'Oh,  hello,  Kingfish!'  'How'd 
you  know  it  was  me?"  I  asked  him.  'I 
listen  to  you  every  week  on  your  CBS 
show,'  he  told  me." 

Both  the  Gosdens  and  the  Corrells 
take  a  large  part  of  their  outdoor  life 
down  in  Palm  Springs,  a  place  that  has 
always  been  a  favorite  with  Amos  and 
Andy  during  the  California  winter. 
Back  in  the  thirties,  for  four  months 
each  year,  they  broadcast  from  there. 

The  evolution  of  Amos  'n'  Andy  from 
the  characters  they  originally  created, 


Sam  'n'  Henry,  is  a  classic  that  bears 
repeating.  "Sam"  equalled  'fAmos," 
"Henry"  equalled  "Andy."  The  Sam 
'n'  Henry  idea  was  owned  by  the  Chi- 
cago Tribune  at  the  time. 

"We'd  been  on  the  air  for  two  years, 
a  ten  minute  nightly  program,  as  Sam 
'n'  Henry,  when  we  got  some  ideas  of 
expanding.  The  Chicago  Tribune  had 
the  program  idea  sewed  up  for  local 
stations,  and  the  networks  were  not 
yet  going  through.  In  1928,  we  switched 
over  and  went  to  work  as  Amos  'n' 
Andy  at  WMAQ.  We  made  records  and 
sold  them  to  sixty  stations  around  the 
country,  so  when  we  went  on  the  air 
in  Chicago  at  ten  at  night,  they  were 
playing  that  same  record  all  over  the 
country  in  the  big  towns  at  the  same 
time.  NBC  started  wondering  why  they 
couldn't  sell  ten  o'clock  anywhere,  in 
any  of  the  big  towns,  and  they  re- 
searched the  deal.  They  found  out — it 
was  us."  NBC  signed  Amos  'n'  Andy  on 
the  network  in  August  1929  as  the  first 
fifteen-minute  program  on  the  air,  and 
the  first  nightly   continuity  broadcast. 

"We're  in  the  sixth  season  of  our 
weekly  show  now,  as  a  change  from  the 
daily,"  Freeman  continues.  "A  half- 
hour  show  takes  as  much  time  and 
work  as  perhaps  several  weeks  of  the 
daily  programs.  The  weekly  show  is 
a  complete  little  story,  with  a  beginning 
and  an  end,  but  the  daily  shows  just 
ran  on,  one  fifteen  minutes  growing 
out  of  another.  So — if  a  listener  missed 
a  daily  broadcast,  he  could  always  pick 
up  the  action  the  next  day.  But  now, 
a  program  that's  missed  by  a  listener 
is  one  he'll  never  know  about." 

Both  Freeman  and  Charlie  enjoy 
their  work  so  much  that  a  major  por- 
tion of  their  energies  goes  into  it.  They 
work  harder  than  any  team  on  the  air. 
Sometimes  they'll  have  three  complete 
shows  written  and  polished  by  the  end 
of  the  week,  before  they  finally  decide 
which  one  will  go  on  the  air. 

Their  long-time  secretary,  a  charm- 
ing woman  named  Louise  Summa,  has 
the  task  of  charting  their  busy  days 
away  from  home,  and  keeping  their  of- 
fice running  smoothly.  Both  Charlie 
and  Freeman  know  and  like  music,  and 
they  are  very  particular  about  the 
music  used  on  their  program.  They 
sift  through  hundreds  of  songs  to  find 
the  right  ones  and  work  as  hard  on  the 
music — which  takes  about  two  minutes 
of  air  time — as  they  do  on  any  other 
part  of  the  show. 

Freeman  and  Jane  do  some  enter- 
taining, but  go  out  very  seldom.  Most 
of  their  time  is  occupied  with  living 
their  very  lull  life — ^just  together. 


you  have  a   doublc   date  tvith 

Ralph  Edwards 

m.c.  on  two  of  radio's  leading  programs 
'  "TRUTH    OR    CONSEQUEl^CES" 

(Saturday  Night)    and 

"This   Is   My  Life"    (Tuesday   Night) 

Roth  On  Your  Local  NBC  Station— Check  Paper 
For  Time 


Read  the  thrilling  life  story  of  Ralph  Edwards  in 
TK-lJE     STORY    magazine 

nofv  at  newsstands! 


J. 


Cheers  for  Cheese 

(Continued  from  page   63) 
Potted  Cheddar  Brandy  Cheese  Spread 

2  cups  (V2  lb.)  grated  Cheddar  cheese 

2  tbsps.  soft  butter  or  margarine 
Vs  tsp.  salt 
%  tsp.  paprika 
%  tsp.  confectioners'  sugar 
%  tsp.  cider  vinegar 

2  tbsps.  brandy 

Cream  together  cheese  and  butter. 
Add  salt,  paprika,  sugar  and  vinegar. 
When  well  blended,  add  enough  brandy 
to  make  a  stiflf  paste.  Pack  into  a  small 
jar.  Cover.  Allow  to  ripen  in  refriger- 
ator. Serve  on, cheese  tray  with  crack- 
ers.   Makes  %  cup  spread. 

English    Cheddar    Savories 

1  cup  (1/4  lb.)  grated  Cheddar  cheese 

1  tbsp.  butter  or  margarine 

2  tsps.  Worcestershire  sauce 
%  tsp.  dry  mustard 

6  slices  bread 

Blend  the  cheese  with  butter  or  mar- 
garine, Worcestershire  sauce  and  mus- 
tard. Trim  crusts  from  bread  or  cut  in- 
to fancy  shapes.  Toast  on  one  side. 
Spread  untoasted  side  with  cheese  mix- 
ture. Broil  a  few  minutes  until  cheese 
is  bubbly.  Serve  on  individual  plates, 
after  dessert.   Makes  6  servings. 

Cream   Cheese  Petite    Suisse 

2  packages  (6  ounces)  cream  cheese 
4  tsps.  heavy  cream 
1  tsp.  confectioners'  sugar 
strawberry  jam 

Blend  the  cheese  with  enough  cream 
to  hold  its  shape.  Add  sugar  and  stir 
imtil  smooth.  Pack  into  small  molds 
lined  with  wet  cheesecloth,  using  about 
three  tablespoons  to  each  mold.  Chill 
in  refrigerator.  Unmold  on  individual 
serving  plates  and  serve  with  straw- 
berry jam.   Makes  4  servings. 

Normandy    Sauce    for    Pears 

1  package  (3  ounces)  cream  cheese 
4  tbsps.  heavy  cream 

2  tbsps.  confectioners'  sugar 
4  tbsps.  sherry 

8  canned  pear  halves 

1  tbsp.  finely  chopped  candied  ginger 

Cream  together  the  cheese,  cream  and 
sugar  until  fluffy.  Add  the  sherry  and 
stir  until  smooth.  Refrigerate  for  24 
hours.  When  ready  to  serve,  place  two 
pear  halves,  cut  side  up,  on  each  dessert 
plate.  Fill  with  the  sauce.  Sprinkle 
top  with  the  candied  ginger.  Makes  4 
servings. 

Frozen  Strawberry  Cottage  Cheese  Pie 

1  8"  baked  or  graham  cracker  pie  shell 

1  cup  cottage  cheese,  sieved 

2  cups  (1  package)  frozen  whole  strawberries 
%  cup  sugar 

3  tbsps.  cornstarch 

1  cup  heavy  cream  or  evaporated  milk, 
whipped 

1  tsp.  lemon  juice  (if  evaporated  milk  used) 
Spread  cheese  over  the  bottom  of  cool 
pie  shell.  Drain  defrosted  strawberries. 
Save  some  of  the  best-shaped  berries 
for  top  decoration.  Place  half  of  those 
remaining  in  the  cheese-coated  pie 
shell.  Mash  and  strain  the  other  half 
until  juice  is  well  extracted.  Bring  to  a 
boil  over  medium  heat.  Slowly  stir  in 
the  sugar  and  cornstarch  which  have 
been  mixed  together  well.  Reduce  heat 
and  continue  cooking  8  to  10  minutes  or 
until  slightly  thickened,  stirring  occa- 
sionally. Cool.  Pour  over  berries  in  pie 
shell.  Top  with  whipped  evaporated 
milk  and  lemon  juice  or  whipped 
cream.  (To  whip  evaporated  milk,  chill 
first  overnight  in  the  refrigerator.) 
Decorate  with  whole  berries.  Makes  6 
servings.  If  fresh  strawberries  are 
used,  increase  the  sugar  to  1  cup. 


of  Teresa 


M^^^- 


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My  Favorite  Wives 

(Continued  from  page   59) 

with  big  red  flowers.  Bright  colors  on 
the  furniture,  green,  yellow,  more  red. 

"We're  going  to  do  it  all  over,"  Lu- 
cille said,  waving  a  stack  of  upholstery 
swatches.  "Red  carpets,  blue  uphol- 
stering,  white  curtains." 

"White?"  Evelyn  said,  and  I  knew 
the  girls  were  off. 

Evelyn  and  Lucille  settled  down  to 
their  swatches,  and  I  looked  around. 
The  big  fireplace  with  a  fire  all  laid 
for  the  evening,  stacks  of  clown  pic- 
tures on  the  window  seat — "Perry 
Charles  did  'em,"  called  out  Lucille  as 
I  hovered  over  them — an  empty  antique 
picture  frame  with  a  scribbled  mes- 
sage, "Sorry,  we  have  nothing  for  this 
as  yet." 

At  the  dining  end  of  the  room — this 
big  room  is  one  of  those  living-dining 
combinations  so  popular  in  California 
ranch  houses — I  stopped  to  admire  a 
wonderful  old  cranberry  glass  chande- 
lier suspended  over  the  big  pine  table. 

Just  then  the  door  from  the  kitchen 
burst  open  and  in  came  Desi,  in  a  white 
apron  and  a  cloud  of  flour. 

Indicating  that  he  was  glad  to  meet 
his  wife's  "husband,"  and  his  wife's 
husband's  wife,  Desi  climbed  out  of  the 
apron. 

There  was  nothing  more  to  do  in  the 
kitchen  for  now,  he  said,  and  he  would 
show  us  around  the  place. 

"Wait,"  Lucille  said  suddenly,  "I 
think  I  ought  to  warn  you — about  Desi. 
He  has  a  hammer  and  nail  complex. 
If  he  gets  up  in  the  morning  with  that 
hammer  and  nail  look  in  his  eye,  I'm  in 
trouble.  I  have  to  think  of  something 
I  want  built  before  he  gets  to  the  tool- 
shed  or  anything  could  happen." 

Thus  warned,  we  wandered  on  out 
into  the  garden,  in  the  middle  of  which 
was  a  rustic  swimming  pool,  designed 
by  Desi. 

We  met,  as  we  wandered,  the 
Arnazes'  family — Captain  Dandy,  Sir 
Thomas  of  Chatsworth,  and  Pinto  the 
Great,  the  three  cocker  spaniels;  Hi 
Ball,  the  fox  terrier,  who  entertained 
us  by  diving  into  the  swimming  pool 
after  a  ball;  Princess  Lydia,  the  cat; 
Harold  and  Helen,  the  pair  of  friendly 
humming  birds  who  came  to  Desilou  on 
their  honeymoon  at  the  same  time  its 
owners  did. 

"I'm  sorry  we  can't  show  you  the 
Duchess  of  Devonshire,"  regretted  Desi. 

The  Duchess,  Lucille  explained,  was 
their  cow.  "She  was  just  wonderful, 
until  she  fell  in  love  with  Desi  and 
tried  to  climb  in  our  bedroom  window. 
We  found  her  a  husband,  and  took  her 
away." 

Since  our  family  is  fairly  small — just 
Evelyn  and  me  and  Deedee  (for  Diana 


''They're  Inside  Stories  of  Life' 

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morning  Monday  through  Friday, 
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Denning)  our  four-year-old  daughter — 
we  were  impressed,   and  said  so. 

"What?"  said  Desi,  "no  humming 
birds?" 

And  Lucille,  serious  for  a  minute, 
said  "We'd  rather  have  a  Diana." 

A  second  later,  she  was  off  to  the 
bath  house,  calling  over  her  shoulder 
to  us  to  get  into  our  bathing  suits. 

We  swam,  and  chased  the  water  ball 
with  Hi  for  a  while,  and  wound  up  in 
the  play-room  for  some  cool  drinks. 
Evelyn  found  one  of  Desi's  Egyptian 
drums,  Desi  picked  up  a  Cuban  one, 
and  things  began  to  happen. 

"That's  enough  pure  percussion,"  Lu- 
cille said  after  a  while,  and  handing  me 
a  pair  of  mysterious  looking  gourds, 
she  sat  down  at  the  piano.  We  had  an 
orchestra. 

Desi  was  magnificent.  The  drums, 
guitar,  piano — he  dazzled  us  with  them 
all.  He  even  made  up  a  song  on  the 
spur  of  the  moment — something  about 
his  wife's  husband  and  his  wife's  hus- 
band's wife. 

It  was  always  like  this,  with  Desi 
around,  Lucille  said.  On  her  birthday, 
for  a  surprise,  she  told  us,  Desi  had 
filled  the  place  with  musicians — his 
whole  band — and  a  chorus  of  wonder- 
ful singers,  the  Guadalajara  boys. 
There  were  brand  new  songs  about 
everybody.     And   nobody   went   home. 

"And  he  cooks  too,"  sighed  Evelyn, 
I'm  afraid  a  little  wistfully. 

"I  suppose  he  has  his  faults,"  Lucille 
put  in  quickly.  "He  never  answers  a 
wire  or  a  letter  or  a  phone  call  unless 
at  the  point  of  a  gun." 

SUDDENLY  it  was  eight  o'clock  and 
Desi  was  calling  us  to  dinner.  He 
stood  in  the  doorway  beaming.  Back 
of  him,  on  a  table  beautifully  set  with 
Lucille's  best  blue  and  white  china 
and  cranberry  glass  goblets,  candles 
were  burning. 

"Everything  ready  except  Cuban 
Pete,"  said  Lucille,  going  to  a  cupboard. 
She  came  back  with  a  colorful  little 
figurine  of  a  Cuban  boy,  carrying  two 
bulging  fruit  baskets. 

"Desi  gets  Cuban  Pete  for  a  center- 
piece whenever  he  gets  dinner  all  by 
himself,"   she   explained. 

Dinner,  naturally  you  will  say  by 
this  time,  was  sensational.  Arroz  con 
Polio,  a  wonderful  chicken  and  rice 
thing  with  saffron,  fried  green  bananas, 
hot  French  bread,  an  avocado  salad,  and 
a  bottle  of  authoritative  red  wine.  For 
dessert,  guava  jelly  and  cream  cheese 
with  toasted  crackers,  and  black,  steam- 
ing coffee. 

We  were  all  in  a  delicious  coma  when 
we  collapsed  around  the  roaring  wood 
fire  after  dinner.  Lucille  and  Evelyn 
managed  a  little  lazy  girl  talk,  but  I 
was  content  just  to  lie  back  and  muse 
about  my  good  fortune  in  meeting  up 
with  the  husband  of  my  wife. 

I  guess  most  of  the  girls  in  the  world 
dream  of  finding  a  husband  like  that. 

But  my  radio  "wife"  got  him. 


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(PLEASE    PRINTI 


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2^-^"'"  Will*   ^^'        ,,1,1.. 


R 

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94 


EASES  HEADACHE 


Coast  to  Coast  in 
Television 

(Continued   from   page   51) 

Fraser  manned  the  interview  mikes. 
There  were  eight  TV  cameras  on  the 
job,  and  the  far-from-perfect  but 
thrilling  telecast  paved  the  way  for 
many  more  to  follow. 

It's  just  a  question  of  who'll  pay 
the  bills  indefinitely.  We  understand 
it  cost  in  the  neighborhood  of  $20,000. 

On  January  12,  when  the  eastern  and 
midwestern  NBC  television  networks 
were  interconnected,  the  seven  mid- 
west stations  joined  the  eight  eastern 
ones.  Besides  those,  eight  additional 
stations  got  kinescope  recordings  of 
the  programs,  so  the  actual  total  be- 
came twenty-three.  The  plans  for  NBC 
alone  will  bring  the  total  number  of 
TV  network  stations  up  to  at  least 
forty-five  before  the  end  of  1949. 

*  *  * 

You  may  not  know  that  Korko,  the 
monkey  puppet  on  CBS-TV's  Kobbs 
Korner  program,  got  his  name  from  an 
entry  that  a  little  boy's  mother  thought 
he  ought  not  to  send  in,  at  least  with- 
out re-copying.  It  seems  that  eleven- 
year-old  George  Pross,  Jr.,  of  Valley 
Stream,  Long  Island,  had  decided  to 
take  the  first  two  letters  of  the  name 
"Korn  Kobblers,"  featured  on  the  show, 
but  he  got  a  little  too  earnest  about 
his  writing  and  ended  up  with  a  pretty 
smudged  looking  piece  of  paper. 

Mamma  Pross  thought  he  ought  to 
be  neater,  but  George  was  a  little  weary 
from  all  the  effort  and  begged  a  stamp 
to  send  it  in  "as  is." 

So  George  is  richer  by  an  Emerson 
television  set  and  an  imported  Korji 
motor  scooter.  Won  by  a  smudge,  you 
might  say. 

*  *         * 

It's  a  field  day  for  fans  of  western 
movies.  New  York's  WPIX  started  a 
new  daily  program  (at  6:05  EST)  fea- 
turing action  films  last  December.  But 
a  lot  of  other  stations  are  in  the  syndi- 
cate too,  among  them  WBAP,  Fort 
Worth;  WGN-TV  Chicago;  and  WWJ- 
TV  Detroit.  By  the  time  you  read  this 
they  may  be  on  one  of  your  stations,  if 
you  can't  get  these. 

This  particular  series  is  called  "Six 
Gun  Playhouse,"  and  the  featured 
players  are  Jack  Perrin,  Tom  Tyler, 
Bob  Custer  and  your  old  friend  Rin  Tin 
Tin,  Jr.,  noble  son  of  a  noble  father. 

^  ^  ^ 

And  if  you're  a  "Hopalong  Cassidy" 
fan,  you  have  probably  been  having  a 
wonderful  time  these  early  winter 
Sunday  evenings  watching  that  rootin' 
tootin'  character  played  by  Bill  Boyd. 

*  *  * 

The  USO  isn't  forgotten,  even  though 
the  war  years  are  beginning  to  dim  in 
our  memories.  Its  goal  for  1949  is 
$7,000,000. 

Dumont's  Fashions  on  Parade  pro- 
gram is  doing  its  big  bit  with  a 
slogan  and  identification  contest.  The 
three  best  slogans  each  week  win  $50  in 
fashion  merchandise.  Then,  if  one  of 
them  has  identified  the  "mystery  girl" — 
whose  face  would  be  familiar,  except 
that  she  wears  a  mask  on  the  program 
— that  person  has  won  a  complete 
wardrobe  valued  at  $3,500. 

4:  «  ^ 

Incidental  Intelligence:  The  door  of 
the  ladies'  powder  room  at  the  Du- 
mont  Television  Station  in  New  York 
is  labeled  "Tillie  Vision." 


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^^M 


High  Score  in 
Happiness 

{Continued  from  page  53) 

reach  Radio  City  in  time  for  Get  Rich 
Quick. 

Catching  Johnny's  eye,  Penny  tried 
to  steady  him.  She  shaped  her  mouth 
into  the  word  "home."  Johnny  caught 
it,  grinned,  gave  away  $1500,  and  the 
show  was  over. 

The  ringing  stopped.  Some  one  in 
the  control  booth  had  answered  the 
phone. 

The  producer  dashed  out  the  door, 
pulled  Johnny  and  Penny  awav  from 
the  autograph  seekers.  "Kids,  you 
heard  that  call?  Your  apartment  is  on 
fire." 

Even  as  they  urged  their  taxi  driver 
to  hurry,  Johnny  and  Penny  couldn't 
believe  it.  That  apartment  was  the  first 
real  home  they  had  furnished  in  eight 
years  of  marriage.  Just  that  morning,  on 
Rumpus  Room,  they  had  told  listeners 
that  it  finally  was  completed.  For  weeks 
they  had  talked  about  it  on  the  air.  In 
their  enthusiasm  they  had  made  the  lis- 
teners, too,  see  the  way  it  was  arranged. 
And  this  was  their  undoing. 

The  flames  were  out  when  they  ar- 
rived, but  the  stench  of  smoke  and  wet 
charred  wood  burned  in  their  nostrils. 

Johnny,  climbing  over  debris  to  in- 
spect a  bedroom,  called  back,  "Penny, 
we've  been  robbed." 

They  took  stock.  The  closets  were 
empty.  Dresser  drawers  were  stripped. 
Clothes,  furs,  bedding  and  jewelry  were 
gone.  The  living  room  was  the  same. 
What  hadn't  been  stolen  had  been  de- 
stroyed by  fire. 

They  had  no  insurance. 

Police  pointed  out  that  through  the 
conversation  on  their  shows  they  had 
given  a  blue  print  for  the  robber. 

All  the  Olsons  had  was  the  clothes 
on  their  backs.  They  searched  the  ruins 
until  4  A.M.,  then  in  the  show-must-go- 
on tradition,  they  left  to  play  a  four- 
day  personal  appearance  at  Reading, 
Pennsylvania. 

But  the  Olsons'  bad  luck  didn't  end 
there. 

BACK  in  New  York,  Penny's  physician 
decided  she  must  have  an  immediate 
operation.  She  went  into  Doctors' 
Hospital.  The  exploratory  operation 
showed  Penny  did  not  have  cancer,  as 
the  doctor  had  feared.  She  was  out  of 
the  hospital  in  a  short  time,  but  with  no 
place  to  recuperate. 

At  that  point.  Penny's  aunt,  Mrs. 
Elizabeth  Haas,  came  to  the  rescue.  She 
invited  the  young  couple  to  Sunny 
Slope,  her  farm  just  outside  Waterford, 
Wisconsin. 

It  was  a  chance  to  relax,  and  re- 
minded them  of  their  courting  days. 
They  met  at  a  dance  where  Johnny, 
then  a  band-leader  for  WTMJ,  was 
playing.  Penny  and  her  parents  were 
there.  By  the  time  the  evening  was 
over,  Johnny's  '  history  was  an  open 
book  to  Penny's  Irish  father.  He  had, 
he  informed  the  family,  come  from 
(  Windom,  Minnesota;  he  had  worked  a 
bit  at  WCCO  while  at  the  University  of 
Minnesota,  then  set  out  to  conquer  the 
airwaves. 

Conquering  started  humbly.  To  sup- 
port himself  while  breaking  in  as  an 
announcer  at  Mitchell,  South  Dakota, 
he  had  also  been  janitor  for  a  jewelry 
store.  When  he  worked  up  to  being 
Harness  Bill,  he  was  really  achieving 
fame.  In  due  time  he  had  moved  on  to 
WIBA,   at  Madison,   Wisconsin,   where 


Go  Without  Lipstick 
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It's  only  Natural  that  Men  are  More  Attracted 
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Think  of  it!  No  more  lipstick  to  come  off  on  him.  Men  will  adore  you.  No 
more  staining  tea-cups  and  napkins.  Hostesses  will  welcome  you.  Other 
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CHOOSE  YOUR  COLORS  FAOM  THE  COUPON  BELOW 
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You  cannot  possibly  know  how  beautiful  your  lips  will  be, 
until  you  see  them  in  Liquid  Liptone.  These  exciting 
colors  that  contain  no  paste  or  grease  give  your  lips  a 
tempting  charm  they  never  had  before— and  of  course, 
they  DON'T  RUB  OFF  ever!  Choose  from  the  list  of 
shades  below.  Check  coupon.  Send  it  at  once  and  I  will 
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n  Scarlet — Flaming  red. 

D  Orchid — Exotic  pink. 

D  Clear — Colorless. 

D  CHEEKTONE— "Magic"  natural  color. 


Miss 
Mrs._ 


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R 

M 

95 


AAY  HAIR 

NEEDS 

COLOR 

TO  GLORIFY 

ITS  NATURAL 

SHADE 


I  WANT 
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LUSTRE 

WITHOUT 
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A  Golden  Glint  Rinse  after  your  per- 
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So  simple,  so  easy,  so  economical  to 
use.  Golden  Glint  should  be  a  regular 
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9S 


he  swapped  that  title  for  the  one  of 
Buttermilk  Kid,  and  took  part  of  his  pay 
in  meal  tickets. 

Johnny  made  himself  sound  so  re- 
spectable that  he  Vas  granted  permis- 
sion to  take  Penny  home. 

He  didn't  know  that  home  was  fifty 
miles  away.  They  arrived  at  daylight, 
with  Olson  sound  asleep  in  the  back 
seat  and  one  of  his  musicians  driving. 

Johnny's  courtship  continued  in  the 
hectic  manner.  When  he  reached  the 
state  of  mind  where  he  couldn't  live 
without  Penny,  he  (proud  of  his  Viking 
heritage)  invited  her  to  take  a  boat 
trip  from  Milwaukee  to  Chicago. 

Lake  Michigan  bucked,  but  that 
didn't  deter  Johnny.  He  went  right 
ahead  and  proposed. 

Penny  is  no  sailor.  Recalling  that 
day,  she  says,  "I'll  bet  I'm  the  only  girl 
who  listened  to  a  proposal  between 
dashes  to  the  rail  to  be  seasick,  and  said 
yes  wearing  a  pale  green  complexion." 

THEY  had  rented  an  apartment  before 
they  left  on  their  honeymoon,  and  the 
WTMJ  engineers  had  foynd  out  about  it. 
They  wired  it  with  microphones,  and  to 
the  young  Olsons'  chagrin  later  played 
back  for  them  a  recording  which  began 
with  the  opening  of  the  door  and  a  long 
pause.  Then  Penny's  voice  was  heard 
saying,  "Well,  aren't  you  going  to  carry 
me  over  the  threshold?" 

Johnny's  groan  was  very  distinct. 
"Honey,"  he  pleaded,  "I've  driven  near- 
ly five  hundred  miles  today.  I'm  too 
tired." 

Memories  like  those  brought  laughs 
to  heal  the  hurt  of  the  ruined  apart- 
ment, the  lost  possessions.  Penny  gained 
health  and  strength  fast,  and  was  soon 
able  to  go  out  on  some  of  the  Whiz 
Quiz  tours. 

So  it  went  from  city  to  city,  until  at 
last  the  show  returned  to  Chicago 
where  two  past  contestants  played  a 
return  engagement. 

Fred  and  Irene  Lamphere,  whose 
marriage  broke  up  due  to  the  stress 
and  worry  of  their  daughter's  physical 
condition,  were  the  two  who  came  back. 
With  them  was  two-year-old  Pam,  the 
baby  who  was  born  with  her  bladder 
outside  her  body. 

It  was  during  the  divorce  suit  of  her 
parents  that  the  public  learned  of  the 
baby's  condition.  Noted  surgeons  had 
volunteered  to  perform  the  dangerous 
operations  needed  to  give  Pam  a  nor- 
mal life.  The  parents  reconciled,  and 
Whiz  Quiz  had  given  them  items  needed 
at  their  first  appearance  on  the  show  to 
furnish  the  apartment  they  had  found. 

Now,  on  the  return,  Pam  was  out  of 
the  hospital,  two  of  the  three  opera- 
tions safely  performed.  To  mark  the 
occasion.  Whiz  Quiz  teamed  with  Ernie 
Byfield,  owner  of  the  Sherman  Hotel, 
to  give  a  party  where  Pam  entertained 
young  friends.  Stage  and  screen  celeb- 
rities joined  the  fun.  The  youngsters 
went  home  loaded  with  presents. 

A  few  days  later,  the  Olson  luck 
turned.  A  New  York  real  estate  agent 
had  found  them  a  house  in  Connecticut; 
Penny's  and  Johnny's  families  gave 
them  a  shower.  From  their  own  homes, 
each  member  had  selected  an  article  of 
furniture.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Powers  were 
giving  dishes  and  a  dinette  set;  the 
hostess  aunt,  Mrs.  Haas,  was  turning 
over  a  love  seat  made  by  Penny's 
grandfather,  a  rocker,  and  a  homesite 
on  the  Fox  River. 

It  took  a  fire  to  do  it,  but  at  last  it 
had  happened.  Johnny  and  Penny  Ol- 
son, the  radio  team  who  had  handed 
out  more  than  a  million  gifts,  were  on 
the  receiving  end.  The  Olsons  had  hit 
the  jackpot  themselves. 


SO  soitl 


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When  a  Girl  Marries 

{Continued  from  page   41) 

business  he  means,  he'll  have  to  go  to 
a  bigger  place  than  this.  But  there 
are  other  things  in  life  than  getting 
somewhere,  that  way — and  we've  got 
them  all  here.  Understand  me — I'll  go 
anywhere  with  Ken.  But  I  just  don't 
see  how  it  will  work  out,  his  way.  Am 
I  keeping  him  back?  Or  should  I  try 
even  harder  to  talk  him  into  staying? 
Dorothea  O'C. 

Dear  Dorothea   O'C: 

Maybe  this  will  sound  a  little  bit 
old-fashioned  to  you,  but  it's  true — a 
man  is  the  family  bread-winner,  and 
he  likes  to  be  respected  as  such.  Of 
course,  I  don't  know  your  Ken,  and 
I'll  have  to  generalize,  but  I  do  feel 
very  strongly  that  if  you  talk  him  into 
staying  at  home  instead  of  striking  out 
for  himself  in  the  world,  he  may — well, 
perhaps  "hold  it  against  you"  is  too 
strong  a  term,  but  I  doubt  that  the  little 
unconscious  resentment  would  ever 
quite  die  out.  (Particularly  if  he  doesn't 
do  well  in  his  small  town  job!) 
.  As  for  making  new  friends,  creating 
a  new  world  for  yourself — that's  not 
nearly  as  hard  as  you  might  think.  I'm 
inclined  to  think  that  those  difficulties 
are  more  in  your  mind  than  reality,  but 
I  do  know  that  if  you  face  them  with 
a  defeatist  attitude,  you  never  will  find 
happiness. 

Go  to  your  big  city — and  ninety  miles 
certainly  isn't  a  long  distance  now- 
adays!— with  the  feeling  firmly  fixed 
in  your  mind  that  this  is  a  great  adven- 
ture, not  a  distasteful  chore.  If  you 
look  at  it  from  that  point  of  view, 
I'm  almost  willing  to  guarantee  that 
you'll  have  fun.  After  all,  you're  young, 
and  being  young  it  will  be  easy  for 
you  to  readjust,  if  you'll  try.  And  you'll 
have  Ken  and  he'll  have  you,  and  that 
will  make  any  hard  road  easier. 

Even  if  the  idea  seems  distasteful  to 
you,  make  yourself  into  a  joiner,  for  a 
little  while.  Go  to  church — you'll  find 
friends  in  the  women's  auxiliaries 
there.  Perhaps  you  can  do  some  helpful 
charity  work  that  will  throw  you  in 
with  young  workers  like  yourself.  Or 
you  might  even  take  a  job  for  a  little 
while — perhaps  a  part-time  job — which 
will  bring  you  new  friends,  if  Ken 
doesn't  object  to  your  working,  and 
which  will  help  the  new  family  budget, 
always  larger  in  a  big  city  than  a  small 
town.  And,  of  course,  your  husband 
will  meet  new  people  at  his  new  job, 
and  you'll  enjoy  entertaining  them  and 
going  to  their  homes. 

It  can  be  fun — ^it  can  be  wonderful. 
It  depends  on  you.    Can  you  do  it? 

Joan   Davis. 

Dear   Joan  Davis: 

When  I  write  you  that  I'm  fifteen 
years  old,  I'm  pretty  sure  you  are  going 
to  think  I  want  to  complain  that  my 
mother  will  not  let  me  use  lipstick 
or  stay  out  late  enough.  Well,  Joan, 
that  isn't  my  problem  at  all.  That  is, 
it  is  connected  with  dates  and  going 
out,  but  my  problem  is  quite  a  different 
one.  My  mother  wants  me  to  go  out. 
She  always  is  trying  to  push  me  out, 
getting  me  invited  to  parties  that 
friends  of  hers — my  mother  has  a  lot 
of  friends  and  was  very  popular  when 
she  was  a  girl — are  giving,  even  if  there 
are  no  others  my  age  to  be  there.  Or 
she  will  arrange  a  date  for  me  with 
the  son  of  one  of  her  friends,  and  then 
when  he  comes  to  pick  me  up  I  can  see 
by   looking   that   it   was   not   his   idea. 


PonV  fail  yOMR  PAWSHTER'" 
you  MUST  TELL  HER  THESE 


And  here's  up-to-date  information  you  and  she  can  trust . . . 


Every  daughter  has  a  right  to  know 
these  intimate  physical  facts  before  she 
marries.  You  must  inform  her  how 
important  vaginal  douching  two  or 
three  times  a  week  often  is  to  feminine 
cleanliness,  her  health,  marriage  hap- 
piness— to  combat  odor  and  always 
after  menstrual  periods. 

And  you  should  make  her  realize  no 
other  type  liquid  antiseptic-germicide 
tested  for  the  douche  is  so  powerful 
yet  so  safe  to  tissues  as  modern  zonite! 

Zonlte  Principle  Developed  By 
Famous  Surgeon  and  Chemist 

Be  sure  to  caution  your  daughter  about 
weak  products  for  the  douche.  Pity  the 
girl  who,  through  ignorant  advice  of 
friends,  uses  such  'kitchen  makeshifts' 
as  vinegar,  salt  or  soda.  These  never  can 
assure  the  great  germicidal  and  deodor- 
izing action  of  zonite. 

On  the  other  hand  you  must  warn 


your  daughter  about  dangerous  prod- 
ucts— overstrong  solutions  of  which 
may  burn,  harden  or  scar  delicate 
tissue  lining,  and  in  time  even  impair 
functional  activity  of  the  mucous  glands. 
Remember,  while  zonite  is  power- 
fully germicidal,  it's  non-poisonous, 
non-irritating  and  absolutely  safe  to 
delicate  tissue  lining.  You  can  use 
ZONITE  as  directed  as  often  as  needed 
without  the  slightest  risk  of  injury. 

Truly  A  Modern  Miracle 

ZONITE  destroys  and  removes  odor- 
causing  waste  substances.  Leaves  you 
feeling  so  sweet  and  clean.  Helps  guard 
against  infection,  zonite  kills  every 
germ  it  touches.  You  know  it's  not 
always  possible  to  contact  all  the  germs 
in  the  tract.  But  you  can  be  sure  zonite 
does  kill  every  reachable  germ  and 
keeps  them  from  multiplying.  You 
can  buy  zonite  at  any  drug  counter. 


W.- 


\ 


HM*t- 
WORtSS- 


97 


LITTLE   LULU 


"Don't  be  a  public  pest— use  Kleenex*!*' 

Little  Lulu  says:  Block  that  sneeze  and  those  germs  with 
soft,  strong  Kleenex  Tissues  to  help  keep  colds  from  spread- 
ing. Be  considerate  in  another  way,  too.  Don't  just  "drop  the 
Kleenex"— use  that  waste  basket! 


©  International  Cellucotton  Products  Co. 


*T.  M.  Reg.  U.  S.  Pat.  Ofl. 


Tm  madly  in  love 


R 

M 

98 


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All  of  this  embarrasses  me  very 
much.  I  am  not  comfortable  out  on 
dates  with  boys,  and  do  not  at  all  en- 
joy it.  But  my  mother  says  that  un- 
less I  learn  how  to  have  a  good  time 
on  dates  when  I  am  still  young,  I  will 
never  go  out  enough  to  meet  people 
and,  eventually,  the  one  I  will  marry. 
I  know  all  the  other  girls  in  school  go 
out,  every  Saturday  night  almost,  some 
of  them,  and  even  in  formal  clothes  to 
dances  and  so  forth.  But  I  feel  I  am 
not  ready  for  this,  and  anyway  so  far 
no  real  boy  has  asked  me  of  his  own 
free  will.  Do  you  think  my  mother  is 
right  to  embarrass  me  in  this  way,  by 
making  arrangements  for  dates?  My 
father  just  laughs  about  it  and  says  I 
will  have  more  serious  problems  later 
on,  but  this  really  is  causing  me  great 
trouble  now  and  indeed  I  worry  about 
it  so  much  that  my  school  work  is  fall- 
ing down. 

Natalie  M. 

Dear  Natalie  M: 

Let  me  say  this  first — please  be  as 
patient  with  your  mother,  as  under- 
standing of  her,  as  you  can  possibly  be. 
Perhaps  some  of  the  things  she  does 
are  emibarrassing  or  even  distasteful  to 
you — and  believe  me,  I'm  not  so  far 
from  my  "going  out"  days  that  I  can't 
remember  exactly  what  an  agony  of 
embarrassment  a  girl  your  age  can 
feel — but  she  is,  in  her  way,  trying  to 
do  her  very  best  for  you. 

Perhaps  your  father  can  help  you. 
I  know  that  you  say  that  he  treats  it 
all  as  a  joke,  but  have  you  seriously 
tried  to  present  it  to  him  as  exactly 
what  it  is — a  problem  which  you  need 
help  in  solving?  Don't  go  to  him  with 
the  attitude  that  you  are  complaining 
about  your  mother.  Tell  him,  as  you 
told  me,  that  you  know  she's  doing 
these  things  with  the  best  wilL 

Meanwhile, '  perhaps  you're  making 
the  mistake  of  reading  into  the  boys' 
minds  thoughts  which  really  aren't 
there.  I  think  if  you  could  learn  to  for- 
get your  embarrassment  you'd  have  a 
really  wonderful  time  on  the  d-^tes  your 
mother  arranges — and,  even  more  im- 
portant, if  you  enjoy  yourself  I  thmk 
you'll  find  that  soon  you'll  have  as  many 
dates  as  a  girl  your  age  should  have, 
without  help  from  your  mother!  So 
why  not  try  this — next  time  you  go  on 
one  of  these  pre-arranged  dates,  go 
with  a  changed  attitude  of  mind.  Dress 
with  the  greatest  of  care,  and  make 
yourself  as  attractive  to  look  at  as  you 
possiblv  can. 

Let  the  boy  do  the  talking.  But  do 
listen — so  that  you'll  be  able  to  an- 
swer, to  look  as  if  you  understood,  to 
make  an  intelligent  comment  now  and 
then.  If  you  do  listen,  you'll  find  that 
you're  interested.  And  if  you're  inter- 
ested, you're  also  interesting.  Go  out 
with  the  idea  that  you're  goins  to  have 
the  best  time  of  your  whole  life.  Even 
if  the  boy's  mother  d^d  make  him  ask 
you  for  a  date,  in  collusion  with  your 
own  mother.  I'd  be  willing  to  wager 
that  by  the  end  of  the  evening  he'll  ask 
you  for  another  one,  on  his  own  initia- 
tive! 

Joan  Davis. 


To  Fight  the 

NATION'S  CREmST  KIlltR- 

Heart  Disease 

Give  to  the  American   Heart  Assn.,    1775 

Broadway,  New  York  19,  N.  Y.,  or  to  your 

local   heart  association. 


WHAT  I  THINK  OF 

WAITER  WINCHEIL 


(Continued  from  page  23) 


"I've  heard 
Winchell  for 
five  years 
and  think 
he's  swell  be- 
cause he  has 
led  to  the 
investigation 
of  corrupt 
people.  He 
should  be 
opinionated 
but  I  don't  always  go  along  with 
what  he  says'  and  don't  agree 
with  all  of  his  attacks  on  Russia. 
I  feel  he's  for  the  people — a 
person  who  can't  be  influenced 
by  money  or  graft.  He  does  a 
good  job  and  I  admire  him." 


"I  don't  think 
a  great  deal 
of  Winchell 
and  neither 
do  most  of 
my  friends, 
although  I've 
heard  him 
off  and  on 
for  ten  years. 
I  think  he's 
too  rash. 
During  the  war  he  went  down  in 
my  estimation.  He  didn't  give 
the  English  people  enough  con- 
sideration. I  don't  like  Com- 
munism but  think  his  broad- 
casts are  too  inflammatory." 


Mrs.  W.  A.  Dutton 

Housewife 
London,  Ontario 


"Winchell,  I 
think,  is  a 
very  dy- 
namic per- 
sonality. I 
usually 
agree  with 
him  but  like 
to  listen 
whether  he's 
wrong  or 
right.  When 
he's  after  someone,  he  goes  after 
them.  I  always  loved  him  for 
loving  President  Roosevelt  and 
don't  think  anyone  in  America 
could  have  done  better  on  the 
cancer  drive  or  on  exposing  the 
Communist  underground." 
(Continued  on  page  100) 


Ultian  lerman 

Restaurateur 

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WHAT  I  THINK  OF 

WAITER  WINCHEll 

(.Continued  from  page  99) 


"I  came  to 
the  United 
States  from 
Malta  in 
1920  and 
since  Win- 
chell  went  on 
the  air  I've 
always  lis- 
tened to  him 
because  he  is 
a  very  good 
American.  He  tells  off  Repub- 
licans or  Democrats  and  has  no 
party  affiliations.  1  agree  with 
nearly  everything  he  says  and 
I  feel  he  is  honest.  I  believe  he 
thinks  a  lot  of  the  country  and 
everyone   in   it." 


Joseph  Salerno 

Maintenance  Man 

New  York  City 


"I've  enjoyed 
Winchell  for 
seven  or 
eight  years 
because  he's 
definite  and 
I  like  defi- 
nite people. 
He  seems 
sure  of  him- 
self and  very 
sincere  in 
what  he  says.  I  have  confidence 
in  his  reports  and  generally 
agree  with  him.  I  listen  for  news, 
not  personal  items.  The  only 
thing  I  don't  like  is  the  tinge  of 
sarcasm  that  spoils  what  he's  al- 
ready said.    He  seems  bitter." 


Mildred  t1.  Purcell 

Teletype  Operator 

Brooklyn.  N   Y 


"I  think 
Winchell  has 
become  nar- 
row-minded. 
He  doesn't 
give  two 
sides,  only 
his  own 
opinion.  I 
listened  for 
three  years 
but  stopped 
a  year  ago.  He  seems  to  have 
become  vindictive,  although  1 
don't  think  he's  actually  vicious. 
He  has  a  bad  effect  on  people 
who  belieye  without  questioning 
his  statements  and  like  the  poll- 
sters he  sways  too  much  opin- 
ion." 


Sheila  Katz 

Student 

Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 


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Traveler  of 
the  Month 

{Continued  from  page  42) 

he'd  carry  her  into  school,  and  carry 
her  home  at  the  end  of  the  day. 

"He  was  sweet  and  attentive,  all 
right,"  Virginia  remembers,  "but  I  still 
thought  he  was  being  sorry  for  me." 

Virginia  did  relent  a  little,  however, 
when  the  Senior  Prom  rolled  around. 
She  agreed  to  go  as  Joe's  date.  He  came 
around  that  night,  all  slicked  up,  and 
there  she  was,  lovely  as  a  summer  night 
in  her  prom  dress.  At  the  High  School 
gym,  they  sat  on  two  chairs  which  had 
been  moved  right  next  to  the  floor.  All 
night,  while  their  classmates  waltzed 
by,  wrapped  in  all  of  the  sweet-sad 
feeling  of  growing  up  that  comes  with 
proms,  Joe  and  Virginia  chatted  on. 

He  told  her  (and  he  meant  it)  that 
she  was  the  prettiest  girl  there.  She 
told  him  (and  she  didn't  mean  it,  be- 
cause she  knew  he  hardly  talked  to  the 
others)  that  he  told  that  to  all  the  girls. 

The  town  was  thick  with  honeysuckle 
scent  that  night  as  Joe  carried  Virginia 
home.  And  there  probably  wasn't  a  girl 
in  town,  a  girl  who  could  dance,  or 
walk,  or  run,  who  was  as  happy  as  Vir- 
ginia when  she  watched  Joe  walk  home 
through  the  sleeping  street. 

THAT  fall,  Joe  went  off  to  the  college. 
This  was  depression  time,  and  many  of 
the  boys  hurried  right  out  to  try  and 
find  work,  but  Joe  knew  already  that 
he  wanted  to  take  care  of  Virginia  for- 
ever, and  he  wanted  to  take  care  of  her 
in  style. 

While  Joe  was  in  college,  Virginia 
still  was  careful  to  give  him  every  op- 
portunity to  free  himself  of  any  obliga- 
tions he  felt  toward  her.  As  she  said: 
"I  thought  that  maybe  going  to  college 
was  his  way  of  gradually  getting  out  of 
my  life.  I  expected  him  to  see  me  less 
and  less,  until,  all  of  a  sudden,  he  wasn't 
coming  around  at  all." 

"Don't  know  where  she  got  an  idea 
like  that,"  Joe  cut  in.  "I  don't  think  I 
ever  seriously  considered  another  girl 
since  I  was  ten  years  old.  But  she  sure 
was  hard  to  convince." 

But  when  Joe  was  graduated  from 
college,  Virginia  was  there,  up  front.  A 
year  after  that,  they  were  married. 

You'd  think  that  this  might  be  the 
end  of  their  story.  Certainly,  they'd 
gone  through  enough  to  have  earned 
the  happy  ending.  It  didn't  happen  that 
way,  though.    Not  quite. 

Two  days  after  the  marriage,  Joe  lost 
his  job.  Three  days  later,  he  got  anoth- 


Tommy  Bartlett  with  Virginia  and  Joe  Muir 
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er  as  a  bacteriological  surveyor.  Those 
were  tough  times  though,  and  he  was 
in  and  out  of  work — a  shoe  salesman,  a 
bouncer  in  a  night  club,  a  guy  looking 
for  a  job. 

"I'll  never  forget  Christmas  of  that 
year,"  Joe  recalled.  "We  were  having 
dinner  with  Virginia's  folks,  but  it 
wasn't  a  happy  time  for  me.  A  baby 
was  coming,  and  I'd  just  spent  my  last 
ten  cents  to  buy  Virginia  the  only 
Christmas  present  I  could  afford — a 
powder  puff." 

After  dinner,  feeling  blue,  he  walked 
uptown  and,  just  out  of  habit,  looked 
into  his  box  at  the  post  office.  There 
was  a  letter  inside,  a  wonderful  one 
that  announced  his  appointment  as 
county  agricultural  agent. 

"I  felt  bad  about  Joe  when  he  walked 
off  that  day,"  Virginia  went  on,  "and  I 
was  kind  of  looking  for  him  through  the 
window.  All  of  a  sudden,  he  came  run- 
ning down  the  street,  waving  the  let- 
ter. I  knew  something  wonderful  had 
happened,  and  that  we  would  have  a 
good  Christmas  after  all." 

AFTER  a  spell  as  county  agent,  Joe 
went  to  Washington  State  College 
where,  today,  he's  Professor  of  Animal 
Husbandry.  The  Muirs  have  their  own 
home,  and  to  fill  it  they  have  Sybil, 
twelve,  Russell,  ten,  Bruce,  five,  and 
Ginny,   two. 

"People  sometimes  ask  me  how  I  ever 
managed  all  of  those  children  by  my- 
self doing  the  housework  and  the  wash 
besides,"  Virginia  said.  "Well,  I've  al- 
ways loved  working  around  tlie  house, 
and  it  all  just  seemed  to  come  natural 
to  me.  I  learned  how  to  carry  a  little 
baby  while  walking  on  crutches,  and 
after  that,  everything  else  was  easy." 

After  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Muir  answered 
their  quiz  question,  we  were  most 
happy  to  pass  on  some  Welcome  Trav- 
elers hospitality — a  handsome  new  suit 
for  him,  a  fox  fur  for  her.  Also,  as  part 
of  their  entertainment  in  Chicago,  they 
were  given  a  night  of  typical  Chicago 
frolic — dinner  and  a  floor  show  at  the 
Edgewater  Beach  Hotel. 

Some  friends  of  mine  bumped  into 
the  Muirs  that  night.  They  said  that  in 
that  whole  magnificent  room  there 
wasn't  a  happier  couple.  The  entire 
wide,  shining  world  seemed  to  belong 
to  just  the  two  of  them — the  man  with 
the  nice  smile  and  the  pretty  woman. 

Compare  these  two  serene  people 
with  the  boy  of  eighteen  and  the  girl 
of  seventeen  who  were  flung,  that  day 
away  back  in  Utah,  from  the  careening 
car.  Their  story  might  have  been  so  dif- 
ferent— bitterness,  recriminations,  a 
lifelong  feud.  It  turned,  instead,  into 
that  happy  ending  I  told  you  about  be- 
cause it  had  the  one  ingredient  that 
most  happy  endings  need.  That  ingredi- 
ent, of  course,  is  love. 


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Unrest  in  the  Air 

(Continued  jrom  page   15) 

talked  a  lot  about  retiring.  Jolson  and 
Allen  have  filed  their  intention  to  re- 
tire at  the  end  of  the  season. 

Arthur  Godfrey,  for  years  the  reign- 
ing funny  man  on  the  CBS  morning 
schedule,  recently  quit  his  breakfast 
program  cold,  turned  his  back  on  sev- 
eral thousand  dollars  a  week.  "I'm 
going  to  concentrate  on  television  and 
sleep  a  little  later." 

Suppose,  by  next  year.  Bob  Hope, 
Red  Skelton,  Burns  and  Allen  and  the 
McGees  of  Wistful  Vista  decide  they've 
had  enough  of  radio.  The  dial  is  going 
to  become  as  chill  and  empty  as  the 
outer  reaches  of  space.  The  long  win- 
ter evenings  won't  seem  nearly  as 
cozy.  Whom  are  we  to  blame  for  this  sad 
state  of  affairs?  The  comedians?  The 
radio  industry?     Or  television? 

Edgar  Bergen  blames  radio.  It  isn't 
possible,  he  maintains,  to  be  funny 
week  after  week,  year  in,  year  out. 
The  imagination  runs  dry  after  a 
while.  All  that's  left  is  for  a  performer 
to  start  repeating  himself.  Either  that, 
or  compromise  his  standards. 

Fred  Allen  blames  the  tyranny  of 
Hooper  ratings.  "Next  time  you  see  a 
radio  comedian  with  his  hair  gray 
before  his  time,  his  cheeks  sunken,  his 
step  halt,  please  understand  that  he 
isn't  dying  ...  He  has  been  caught  with 
his  Hooper  down,  that's  all." 

BOTH  Jolson  and  Allen  have  suffered 
from  low  Hoopers  this  year.  Fred's 
decline  can  be  traced  to  formidable 
opposition:  a  program  called  Stop  the 
Music  that  gives  away  everything  but 
the  U.  S.  Mint. 

Last  year,  Al  Jolson  was  consistently 
high  in  Hooper's  First  Fifteen.  Today 
he  ranks  twenty-sixth.  One  network 
man  summed  up  the  situation  thus: 
"How  many  times  can  you  listen  to 
'Swannee'?" 

Perhaps,  as  one  respected  critic  of 
radio  suggests,  the  medium  is  all  talked 
out.  It  has  been  on  thousands  and 
thousands  of  days.  Its  prime  talkers  are 
getting  tired  and  a  little  hoarse.  Its 
knee  ever  bent  to  Hooper,  accent  has 
been  on  keeping  alive  the  old  stars  in- 
stead of  developing  new  ones. 

Just  how  far  radio  will  go  to  "keep 
alive"  an  old-timer  was  seen  recently 
in  the  capital  gains  deal  that  won  Jack 
Benny  over  to  CBS.  He  will  receive 
considerably  more  than  a  good  many 
of  the  nation's  top  industrialists.  And 
because  he  and  his  troupe  have  been 
bought  as  a  "company,"  rather  than 
hired  as  individuals,  the  taxes  will  be 
very  much  lower. 

CBS  reportedly  is  prepared  to  spend 
as  many  millions  as  necessary  to  woo 
the  top  Hooper  stars  away  from  NBC. 
No  doubt  this  is  good  business.  But 
NBC  may,  in  the  long  run,  turn  the  loss 
into  profit — by  developing  some  bright 
newcomers  who  will  turn  the  dials 
right  back  to  their  original  setting. 

It  can  be  safely  said  that  all  of 
radio's  prominent  stars  are  casting  a 
wistful  and  curious  eye  toward  tele- 
vision. At  the  moment,  of  course, 
television  pays  poorly  If  half  a  dozen 
more  stars  follow  the  lead  of  the  re- 
signers  and  those  who  threaten  resigna- 
tion, listeners  living  in  areas  too  remote 
to  pick  up  a  television  picture  clearly 
might  as  well  resign  themselves  to  a 
new  kind  of  listening. 

What  it  will  consist  of  is  hard  to  say. 
The  news  and  weather  reports  will 
always  be  with  us.  Likewise  recorded 
music.    A  new  shift  to  local  program- 


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ming,  as  opposed  to  network  entertain- 
ment, may  uncover  new  talent. 

If  you  do  live  in  or  near  a  city  lucky 
enough  to  have  a  video  station,  chances 
are  you'll  be  disappointed  with  the  local 
programs.  Television  at  the  present 
moment  is  going  to  remind  you  of  old- 
time  movies. 

Pity  is  that  the  war  delayed  televis- 
ion's progress  for  five  years.  Had  this 
new  medium  not  been  forced  to  stop 
dead  in  its  tracks,  the  transition  era 
might  have  been  avoided.  As  the 
radio  stars  tired  of  radio  and  dropped 
from  the  ranks,  television  would  be 
reaching  a  sufficient  number  of  homes 
— bright  with  the  gloss  of  a  seventh 
wonder — to  fill  in  the  gap. 

In  fact,  had  it  not  been  for  the  war, 
television  would  now  be  of  sufficient 
maturity,  artistically  and  technically, 
to  permit  the  simultaneous  broadcast 
and  telecast  of  your  favorite  programs. 

Instead  of  utilizing  this  period  of 
grace,  the  war  years,  to  build  up  new 
program  ideas  and  new  talent,  radio 
was  obliged  to  rely  even  more  heavily 
on  the  old-timers.  They,  you  see,  were 
draft-exempt.  The  youngsters  who 
should  have  been  getting  their  feet 
wet  in  show  business  were,  instead, 
getting  wet  up  to  their  necks  in  fox- 
holes. 

I  DO  recall,  though,  a  few  young  co- 
medians who  tried  to  crash  the  big- 
time  in  radio.  They  fared  badly.  One 
was  Jack  Paar,  who  replaced  Jack 
Benny  a  few  summers  back.  He  started 
out  fresh  as  a  daisy.  At  the  end  of  his 
thirteen-week  stint  he  was  about  as 
funny  as  a  disc  jockey  in  South  Sinus, 
Mo.  It  brings  us  back  to  Bergen's 
original  complaint.  Radio  wears  out 
talent.  It  saps  the  energy,  drains  the 
imagination.  We  don't  expect  our  major 
novelists  to  turn  out  a  new  book  every 
single  year.  But  we  expect  radio  come- 
dians and  their  writers  to  turn  out  a 
frothy  half  hour,  smart  as  new  paint, 
every  single  week. 

The  present  state  of  radio  has  been 
blamed  on  the  fact  that  the  industry  is 
run  by  salesmen  rather  than  showmen. 
Selling  time,  say  critics,  is  rated  above 
developing  talent. 

Nobody  is  so  foolish  as  to  fancy  that 
radio  can  get  along  without  selling 
time,  of  course.  But  it  does  seem  that 
a  certain  amount  of  the  profits  could  be 
set  aside  for  a  "talent  laboratory." 
Here  would  be  "cultured,"  in  the  proper 
test  tube  environment,  the  writers,  di- 
rectors and  performers  of  tomorrow. 
All  of  them  would  be  trained  not  sim- 
ply for  radio  but  for  television,  too. 
When  their  hour  came,  they  would  be 
ready. 

Proof  that  radio  and  radio  alone  can 
develop  stars  is  seen  in  three  in- 
dividuals: Ralph  Edwards,  Garry 
Moore  and  the  aforementioned  Mr. 
Godfrey.  Edwards  started  his  career  as 
as  announcer.  Garry  was  master  of 
ceremonies  on  an  early  morning  local 
show.    So  was  Godfrey. 

There  must  be  other  announcers  and 
early  morning  humorists  who  are 
worthy  of  a  larger  audience.  Some  may 
need  only  a  good  writer.  If  radio  is  to 
survive,  it  must  find  the  young  hope- 
fuls, put  them  through  the  proper 
paces,  polish  them  up  for  stardom. 

Who  knows,  the  next  few  years  in 
radio  may  be  the  most  exciting  to  date. 
It  will  be  a  time  of  revolution;  the 
best  time  to  be  alive,  according  to 
Emerson.  A  time  "when  the  old  and 
new  stand  side  by  side  and  admit  of 
bemg  compared."  That's  what  we  are 
seeing  now.  Maybe  we'll  be  tuned  in 
some  night  when  a  star  is  born! 


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The  Life  of  Fred  Allen 

(Continued  from  page   67) 

Aunt  Lizzie  understand  what  being 
behind  those  footlights  meant  to  me," 
Fred  says.  "I  couldn't  seem  to  de- 
scribe the  sense  of  complete  satisfac- 
tion that  came  to  me  in  that  work.  For 
months  on  end,  she  opposed  the  whole 
thing  until  suddenly  one  day  she 
bowled  me  over  with  some  words  of 
encouragement.  It  was  a  complete  about 
face.  I  was  baffled  until  she  confessed 
that  she  had  sneaked  into  a  theater,  the 
night  before,  and  had  seen  my  amateur 
act.  She  got  a  whale  of  a  kick  watching 
her  own  nephew  perform.  After  that 
she  was  quite  happy  about  my  career." 
Less  than  two  years  after  Aunt  Liz- 
zie's change  of  heart,  Fred  turned  pro- 
fessional. It  happened  this  way:  a 
juggler,  who  was  appearing  at  a  regu- 
lar Boston  vaudeville  house,  did  a  bit 
too  much  drinking  one  night.  His  hang- 
over was  so  deadly  that  he  couldn't 
even  toss  a  beanbag.  He  remembered 
having  seen  Fred,  and  asked  the  budd- 
ing juggler  to  fill  in  for  him  (with  the 
proviso  that  Fred  kick  back  part  of  his 
pay).  Fred  played  the  date,  billing 
himself  as  Paul  Huckle,  Celebrated 
European  Entertainer.  His  perform- 
ance was  well  received,  he  split  the  five 
dollar  fee  and,  from  there  on  he 
spurned  all  further  amateur  work. 

JOHN  FLORENCE  SULLIVAN,  who 
became,  first,  The  Talking  Juggler 
and,  next,  Paul  Huckle,  Celebrated 
European  Entertainer,  now  took  a  third 
name,  borrowed  from  a  Boston  vaude- 
ville house,  and  called  himself  Freddy 
St.  James — which  he  regarded  as  pretty 
classy. 

One  night,  over  coffee  and  sinkers, 
Fred  was  having  a  confab  with  an  old 
buddy  of  his.  "Johnny,  I've  got  a  hun- 
dred bucks  saved,"  Fred  announced. 
"I'm  going  to  try  my  luck  in  New 
York." 

"The  big  time,  is  that  it?" 

"Right — and  I  want  to  ask  a  favor  of 
you." 

"Anything  you  say,  Fred." 

"I'd  like  you  to  take  forty  dollars 
out  of  this  hundred  and  hold  it  for  me 
— just  in  case  New  York  doesn't  think 
I'm  any  good,  and  I  need  carfare  home." 

Not  long  after  that  conversation,  Fred 
was  making  the  rounds  on  Broadway. 
He  had  rented  a  tiny  hall  bedroom.  His 
diet  had  leveled  down  to  a  steady 
crackers,  cheese  and  coffee  .  .  .  and  his 
ability  to  impress  booking  agents  had 
leveled  down  to  zero.  With  his  morale 
even  lower,  he  was  at  the  point  of 
sending  a  telegram  to  Johnny  request- 
ing his  forty  dollars  for  train  fare,  when 
one  of  the  previously  unimpressed 
agents  contacted  him.  Would  Fred  be 
willing  to  play  a  split  week  in  Paterson, 
New  Jersey?  Fred  said,  yes,  he'd  be 
willing. 

He  put  everything  he  had  into  that 
engagement.  He  played  it  so  well  that 
lots  more  work  followed.  A  major 
turning  point  in  his  fortunes  had  ar- 
rived. He  had  realized  his  keenest  am- 
^  bition:  recognition  by  New  York  book- 
ers. It  was  time,  Fred  decided,  to 
change  his  name  again.  He  needed 
something  more  in  harmony  with  his 
type  of  routine.  So,  dispensing  with 
the  "Saint,"  (that  was  misleading,  any- 
way,  he  figured)  he  revised  his  billing 
''  to:  Freddy  James,  The  World's  Worst 
Juggler. 

Freddy  James  would  make  his  en- 
trance and  go  through  his  act  at  a 
brisk  pace.  Then,  at  what  everyone 
thought  was  the  end,  he  would  bow  .  .  . 


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a  bogus  bow,  really,  because  Fred 
wasn't  through  with  them  yet. 

There  would  be  the  usual  ripple  of 
limp  applause  when,  suddenly,  the  or- 
chestra would  crash  into  a  patriotic 
march;  the  lights  would  darken  and, 
simultaneously  flashed  upon  a  screen, 
there  would  appear  a  picture  of  Abe 
Lincoln.  While  the  band  would  blare 
out  more  patriotic  airs,  the  picture 
would  change  to  that  of  Rough  Rider 
Teddy  Roosevelt.  At  this  point,  Freddy 
James  would  be  revealed  in  a  bright 
spotlight  at  one  side  of  the  stage,  smil- 
ing and  bowing  while  the  applause 
reached  ovation  pitch.  Climaxing  all 
this,  the  screen  would  finally  display 
Old  Glory  whipping  in  the  breeze, 
whereupon  the  house  would  go  into  a 
frenzy  of  enthusiasm.  Fred,  still  spot- 
lighted at  stage  left,  would  continue  to 
take  bows  as  if  the  wild  demonstration 
were  a  personal  tribute  to  his  juggling 
prowess.  Freddy  James,  The  World's 
Worst  Juggler,  always  finished  his  act 
to  stormy  applause. 

In  the  two  years  following  he  ap- 
peared in  theaters  from  Maine  to  Cali- 
fornia, By  this  time,  too,  he  had 
learned  to  play  banjo  and  clarinet  and 
had  worked  them  into  his  routine.  He 
had  also  become  a  better-than-average 
ventriloquist  and  his  dialogues  with  a 
decrepit,  moth-eaten  dummy  named 
Jake  always  drew  big  laughs. 

BACK  in  that  year  of  1916,  Fred  had 
every  reason  to  fancy  himself  a 
traveling  man,  but  even  he  could  not 
foresee  the  kind  of  trip  that  was  in  store 
for  him.  While  playing  Loew's  Western 
Circuit  that  year,  a  dazzling  (it  seemed 
so,  then)  offer  was  made  to  him:  a 
sixteen-week  contract  at  twenty-five 
pounds  sterling  per  week  touring  New 
Zealand,  Australia  and  Tasmania. 

Down  there  Down  Under,  Fred  found 
the  going  so  tough  that  he  began  yearn- 
ing for  Boston.  He  heard  one  little 
shriveled-up  man  say  to  his  wife:  "That 
Yank,  Freddy  James!  If  'e  ain't  the 
world's  worst  juggler,  he's  bloody  well 
close  to  it!" 

What  really  got  Fred  hopping  mad, 
though,  was  the  kind  of  booking  the 
theatrical  office  in  Sydney  arranged  for 
him.  More  often  than  not,  there  were 
long,  exhausting  stagecoach  or  boat 
trips  spacing  out  each  engagement. 
There  would  be  days  of  travel — without 
pay. 

The  World's  Worst  Juggler  wasn't 
taking  that  sort  of  treatment  without 
protest.  Into  the  theatrical  agency 
walked  Fred — in  a  sailor's  costume  he 
had  rented  for  the  occasion.  He  barged 
right  into  the  agent's  office  and  began 
dancing  the  hornpipe. 

Wide-eyed,  the  agent  gasped,  "And 
what  do  you  think  you're  doing?" 

"Reporting  for  instructions,"  Fred  an- 
swered, still  hornpiping.  "Now,  matey, 
where  do  I  go  from  here?" 

The  agent  got  the  point,  grinned  and 
shook  hands,  and  for  the  remainder  of 
his  contract  Fred  was  given  only  choice 
bookings  in  big-city  vaudeville  houses. 

Back  again  on  Broadway,  Fred  was 
sure  the  name  of  Freddy  James  was 
now  a  jinx.  His  agent,  Edgar  Allen, 
offered  his  own  last  name,  and  that 
did  it. 

The  war  years  closed  in.  Fred  had 
drawn  a  very  high  draft  number.  While 
waiting  to  be  called,  he  worked  with 
several  vaudeville  units  that  toured  all 
the  army  camps — shows  that  were  as- 
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Columbus  and  other  organizations.  Be- 
fore Fred's  class  was  called,  the  war 
ended. 

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ville  moved  into  its  heyday.  Fred  was 
a  headliner  now,  everywhere  from  the 
Palace  in  New  York  to  the  Palace  in 
Paducah.  He  was  riding  the  crest.  His 
cleverness  with  the  juggling  props  and 
his  ventriloquistic  skill  were  keener 
than  ever  .  .  but,  by  this  time,  his 
fame  rested  even  more  solidly  on  his 
dehydrated  humor.  An  idea  was  fer- 
menting in  the  minds  of  certain  pro- 
ducers. Allen,  they  agreed,  would  be  a 
big  attraction  in  a  Broadway  musical. 

When  the  Shuberts  launched  their 
lavish  "Passing  Show  Of  1922,"  a  good- 
ly portion  of  the  critics'  praise  was 
aimed  at  Fred  Allen.  They  said  that  he 
brought  to  the  musical  comedy  stage  a 
talent  that  was  unique.  As  far  as  Fred 
was  concerned,  the  musical  comedy 
stage  brought  something  unique  to  him. 
Stability.  No  train  schedules.  No  over- 
night jumps. 

What's  more,  he  had  a  chance  to  get 
better  acquainted  with  the  other  people 
in  the  show.  He  was  quite  inclined  to 
be  friendly  with  that  pretty  dancer  .  .  . 
the  girl  with  the  fascinating  name, 
Portland  Hoffa!  Some  night,  he'd  have 
to  really  get  acquainted  with  her.  He'd 
have  to  ask  her  how  she  ever  acquired 
a  name  like  that. 

"I  did  ask  her,"  Fred  says,  "and  after 
I  learned  that  she  had  three  sisters 
named  Lebanon,  Period  and  Lastone, 
respectively,  Portland  didn't  seem  such 
a  funny  name  any  more.  I  thought  it 
and  she  were  wonderful,  and  besides, 
she  laughed  at  all  my  jokes.  So  we  got 
married.  Later,  we  teamed  up  in  vaude- 
ville, playing  the  Palace  in  New  York 
and  all  the  Keith  and  Orpheum  Cir- 
cuits. In  1929,  we  appeared  together  in 
'The  Little  Show'  and,  following  that. 
Max  Gordon  engaged  us,  again  with 
Libby  Holman  and  Clifton  Webb,  for 
'Three's  A  Crowd.'  In  1932,  Portland 
and  I  went  into  radio  where  we've  been 
ever  since." 

SEEMINGLY  endless  are  the  stories 
concerning  Fred's  insistence  on  Doing 
Things  Just  So.  Hearing  them,  you  be- 
gin to  think  that  his  mind  must  be  part 
slide  rule,  part  calculating  machine  and 
part  stop  watch.  Take,  for  instance,  his 
custom  of  meeting  Jack  Haley  for  the 
purpose  of  attending  Mass  at  St. 
Malachy's  Church,  the  actor's  chapel 
on  49th  Street  off  Broadway.  This  cus- 
tom had  been  observed  over  a  period 
of  many  years  whenever  both  co- 
median-pals happened  to  be  in  New 
York. 

"Fred's  way  of  doing  things  is  so  self- 
disciplined,  so  systematic  and  methodi- 
cal, you  would  think  his  ancestry  was 
German  instead  of  Irish,"  Jack  testi- 
fies. "He  would  insist  that  we  meet  in 
the  same  drugstore  he  patronized  every 
day.  Not  any  drugstore,  but  that  par- 
ticular one.  He  would  set  the  meeting- 
time  at  exactly  10:30  A.M.  The  ar- 
rangement was  that  after  breakfast 
there,  we'd  go  on  to  St.  Malachy's.  Well, 
I  noticed  every  time  that  at  exactly 
10:27,  the  drugstore  man  would  start 
preparing  Fred's  orange  juice  and  it 
would  be  ready  and  waiting  on  the 
counter  within  thirty  seconds  of  the 
time  Fred  arrived.  That  drugstore  man 
was  never  wrong.  Never  once  did  Fred 
fail  to  arrive  right  on  the  dot." 

Even  such  a  close  associate  as  "Uncle 
Jim"  Harkins,  Fred's  old-time  vaude- 
ville buddy  and  present-day  Man  Fri- 
day, is  filled  with  constant  awe  at  his 
passion  for  promptness.  "Every  one  of 
Fred's  daily  sixteen  work  hours  is  care- 
fully planned  and  time-tabled,"  asserts 
Uncle  Jim.  "He's  his  own  secretary, 
too.  You'll  never  find  Fred  without  his 
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108 


appointments  or  ideas  for  the   show." 

Evidently,  Fred  Allen  is  master  of 
almost  any  situation — on  a  stage  or  in 
a  broadcasting  studio.  Hollywood, 
however,  proved  to  be  a  somewhat  dif- 
ferent experience  for  him. 

Fred  was  appearing  in  a  movie — his 
first  (and  next  to  last)  picture.  He  re- 
ported, as  instructed,  to  the  make-up 
department  and,  completely  absorbed 
in  reading  the  script,  he  sat  himself 
down  in  a  barbershop-type  chair  while 
the  make-up  man  prepared  to  work  on 
him.  Too  late,  Fred  realized  that  he 
had  neglected  to  get  rid  of  a  chew  of 
tobacco  (he  was  an  habitual  chewer, 
these  days).  The  make-up  man  was 
already  under  way  and,  anxiously, 
Fred's  eyes  searched  first  right  and  then 
left  .  .  .  but  there  wasn't  a  cuspidor  in 
sight. 

After  several  minutes  of  indecision, 
Fred  pointed  to  his  left  cheek  where  he 
had  stowed  the  wad  of  tobacco,  as  if  to 
ask:  "What'U  I  do  with  this?" 

Glancing  at  the  lump,  the  make-up 
expert  said,  "Leave  it  to  me,  Mr.  Allen, 
I'll  fix  it." 

MUCH  to  Fred's  puzzlement,  the  man 
began  making  some  skillful  dabs  on 
that  side  of  Fred's  face.  Finally,  the 
job  was  completed  and  Fred  walked 
toward  the  movie  set.  On  the  way,  he 
discovered  the  much-wanted  cuspidor. 
When  he  appeared  on  the  set,  the  di- 
rector took  one  look  at  him  and  yelled, 
"That  face!  Allen — who  bit  that  hole 
in  your  cheek?" 

A  mirror  was  brought;  Fred  looked 
into  it  and  realized  that  the  make-up 
expert  had  fixed  him — but  good.  He 
had  offset  Fred's  "swollen"  cheek  with 
a  greasepaint  shadow  so  dark  that  it 
looked  completely  hollow. 

Fred  freely  admits  that,  for  him, 
radio  has  been  more  to  .his  liking  than 
movies.  In  radio,  he's  been  happier  .  .  . 
and  better  organized.  It  is  fairly  rea- 
sonable to  assume  that  his  set  habits 
and  ways  are  a  product  of  radio  disci- 
pline. It  seems  they  took  really  defi- 
nite form  somewhere  along  in  the  mid- 
dle nineteen-thirties.  By  that  time,  he 
had  three  or  four  years  of  broadcasting 
to  his  credit.  By  that  time  he  had  kept 
a  large  slice  of  the  population  amused 
with  such  programs  as  Fred  Allen's 
Bath  Club,  The  Salad  Bowl  Review, 
The  Sal  Hepatica  Review,  later  titled 
The  Hour  Of  Smiles  and  still  later 
known  as  Town  Hall  Tonight. 

Now,  this  sort  of  work  allowed  a  fel- 
low to  stay  put.  None  of  this  traip- 
sing all  over  the  map,  like  in  vaude- 
ville. And  yet,  with  all  this  stability, 
he  and  Portland  had  been  "living  out 
of  a  suitcase."  They  still  occupied  a 
furnished,  one-room  place  within  hear- 
ing distance  of  the  Times  Square  traf- 
fic. Visiting  them,  you  would  have 
the  dismal  impression  that  they  were 
either  arriving  from  somewhere  or  just 
departing.  As  for  Portland,  she  was 
getting  tired  of  breakfast  cooked  on  a 
one-burner  gas  ring.  After  all,  she 
never  learned  the  art  of  juggling. 

Putting  her  foot  down,  Portland  in- 
sisted they  start  living  like  the  rest  of 
the  human  race.  Not  that  she  had  to 
insist,  really,  because  Fred  had  the 
same  idea  himself.  They  found  a  very 
nice  five-room  apartment,  located  with- 
in one  block  of  Central  Park,  and  there 
they  have  lived  happily  ever  since. 

One  important  feature  of  the  apart- 
ment is  Fred's  own  "grinner  sanctum," 
the  room  in  which  he  writes  words  into 
the  mouth  of  Senator  Claghorn,  Titus 
Moody,  Pansy  Nussbaum,  Ajax  Cassidy, 
Humphrey  Titter,  the  Joy  Boy,  and  his 
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his  filing  cabinets,  bulging  with  old 
scripts  and  news-clippings;  the  walls 
are  lined  with  bookshelves  containing 
part  of  his  four  thousand  volume  col- 
lection (the  balance  of  this  poor  man's 
public  library  being  spread  around  the 
other  rooms)  and,  central  point  in  the 
work-shop,  the  desk  and  typewriter  to 
which  he  chains  himself  for  hours  on 
end. 

Notwithstanding  the  sour  expression 
that  sometimes  accompanies  these 
chores,  Fred,  if  faced  with  a  final  choice 
between  acting  and  wi'iting,  would 
choose  the  latter.  In  Fred's  opinion,  an 
actor's  income  is  always  dependent  on 
the  enterprise  and  productiveness  of 
other  people,  and  as  an  actor  gets  old, 
his  value  decreases.  An  old  actor  with- 
out a  job  is  hard  put  to  keep  his  head 
above  water.  But  a  writer,  he  argues, 
can  enjoy  employment  as  long  as  he  has 
strength  enough  to  push  a  pen  or  peck 
a  typewriter. 

"To  me,  there's  no  greater  satisfac- 
tion," Fred  maintains.  "Welding  words 
and  phrases  has  always  intrigued  me. 
I  only  wish  that  years  ago  I  had  the 
education  and  the  opportunity  to  enter 
the  writing  profession.  Today,  who 
knows,  I  might  be  a  veteran  re-write 
man  on  the  obituary  page  of  some  small 
town  newspaper." 

Mrs.  Allen  has  her  own  inner  sanc- 
tum, too  .  .  .  the  kitchen  in  which  she 
shines  as  a  truly  talented  cook.  Not  one 
of  the  theoretical  kind,  but  a  real  art- 
ist. Although  the  routine  chores  are 
ably  handled  by  Marguerite,  who  has 
been  with  them  for  many  years,  Port- 
land is  always  in  there  whipping  up 
some  mouth-watering  dish  for  her  fa- 
mous husband. 

Fred  outlines  their  other  hobbies,  too, 
saying,  "We're  fond  of  the  theater,  and 
we  like  to  go  exploring  for  unusual  eat- 
ing places — Armenian,  Japanese,  Rus- 
sian, French,  Yiddish — any  kind  of  ex- 
otic eatery,  providing  the  food  is  ex- 
cellent. Also,  after  thirty-nine  weeks  of 
radio  each  year  we  like  to  hide  away 
in  the  summer  and  read." 

Fred  Allen,  the  man  with  set  habits, 
has  never  changed  his  habit  of  keeping 
in  physical  trim  at  one  particular  gym- 
nasium ...  a  Y.M.C.A.  gym  on  Man- 
hattan's west  side.  On  more  than  one 
occasion,  intimate  friends  of  his  have 
asked,  "Why  don't  you  join  the  New 
York  Athletic  Club,  Fred,  or  some  other 
place  where  you're  more  likely  to  meet 
people  in  your  own  income  bracket?" 

FRED  has  always  come  back  with  the 
same  answer — he  doesn't  judge  his  as- 
sociates by  their  incomes,  he  thinks  his 
"Y"  has  gym  facilities  that  compare 
with  the  best  in  New  York,  it  is  only  a 
pleasant,  five-minute  walk  from  his 
apartment,  and,  besides,  he  enjoys 
mingling  with  the  fellows  whom  he 
meets  there  regularly. 

Time  was  when  Fred  and  his  gang 
would  go  through  a  really  stiff  workout 
twice  weekly. 

In  1943,  though,  there  was  a  warning 
from  his  doctor — cut  out  all  kinds  of 
physical  and  nervous  strain,  or  else  that 
high  blood  pressure  of  his  might  prove 
really  troublesome.  Repercussions  of 
that  warning  were  felt  throughout  the 
entire  radio  industry  .- .  . 

Fred's  program  went  off  the  air  for 
a  full  season.  Fred  (and  here  his  self- 
discipline  stood  him  in  good  stead)  dis- 
missed all  thoughts  of  weekly  script 
deadlines  and  broadcasts  from  his  mind. 
He  cut  out  smoking  and  tobacco,  sub- 
stituting gum  instead.  He  stopped  tak- 
ing even  the  occasional  highball  he 
indulged  in.  He  and  Portland  took  it 
easy  for  the  first  time  in  a  long  spell. 


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109 


They  just  gypsied  around  ...  to  Cape 
Cod,  to  their  farm  and  out  to  the  West 
Coast    (as  tourists). 

That  high  blood  pressure  of  his  was 
even  good  for  a  few  laughs.  At  any 
rate,  on  his  return  to  the  air  he  put 
many  a  gag  about  it  into  his   scripts. 

Despite  his  elevated  blood  pressure, 
Fred  continued  to  sneak  in  as  many 
games  of  handball  as  he  dared,  but  in 
the  Spring  of  1948,  his  doctor  laid  down 
the  law  and  Fred  hasn't  played  since. 
Nowadays  his  exercise  is  limited  to 
brisk  walks  in  Central  Park.  He  shows 
up  each  week  at  the  "Y"  gym,  however, 
for  the  expert  massages  he  receives 
there  .  .  .  and  for  locker-room  talk  ses- 
sions with  the  gang.  That's  one  habit 
he'll  never  willingly  break. 

The  Aliens  are  rarely,  if  ever,  seen 
at  night  clubs.  Portland  is  bored  stiff 
by  them  and  Fred  has  good  cause  to  be 
wary  of  them.  Some  of  the  miserable 
evenings  he  has  spent  in  Manhattan's 
night  clubs  remain  as  scars  on  his 
memory. 

He  can  remember  being  lured  into 
one  famous  club  by  Jack  Haley.  On 
entering  the  place,  Fred  protested,  "It's 
pitch  dark  in  here!  Do  they  equip  each 
customer  with  a  miner's  lamp?"  After 
sitting  through  a  long  floor  show,  they 
departed  .  .  .  not  alone,  though,  for  a 
drunk  had  attached  himself  to  them, 
highball  glass  in  hand.  The  tippler 
climbed  right  into  their  taxi,  spilling  his 
scotch-and-soda  and  his  life  story  all 
over  Fred. 

On  another  occasion,  Fred  was  in- 
vited to  a  night  club  premiere  by  Libby 
Holman,  the  club's  new  after-theater 
attraction.  That  was  when  he  was  co- 
starring  with  Libby  in  "Three's  A 
Crowd."  Quite  naturally,  Fred  expected 
to  be  seated  at  a  good  table,  close 
enough  to  be  at  least  within  ear-shot 
of  the  singer.  But  it  seems  the  reserva- 
tion got  mixed  up.  After  palming  a  fat 
tip,  the  captain  stuck  him  at  a  tiny 
table  right  beside  the  kitchen  door. 
Not  only  did  he  not  hear  or  see  Libby 
Holman,  but  every  time  a  waiter  went 
through  it,  Fred  got  the  kitchen  door 
against  the  side  of  his  head. 

Nor  is  Fred's  memory  soothed  when 
he  recalls  one  final  fiasco.  It  involved 
a  gala  night  club  opening  in  which  the 
extravagant  floor  show  was  climaxed 
by  a  festive  New  Year's  Eve  effect: 
gorgeous  girls  more  or  less  gorgeously 
gowned,  streamers,  confetti  and,  from 
the  ceiling,  a  sudden  cascade  of  colored 
balloons.  Unknown  to  Fred,  one  bal- 
loon floated  down  ever  so  prettily, 
bounced  off  a  whipped  cream  cake  on 
an  adjoining  table,  and  then  settled 
in  his   direction.    Presently,   Fred   and 


his  companions  (including  a  very  wor- 
ried-looking Jack  Haley)  paid  the 
check  and  left.  "Well!"  Fred  beamed. 
"This  is  the  first  time  my  evening 
wasn't  spoiled!"  He  revised  that  state- 
ment later  at  home,  when  he  discovered 
the  whipped  cream  all  over  the  back  of 
his  dinner  jacket. 

On  the  other  hand,  eating  places  like 
Lindy's,  Max's  Stage  Delicatessen  and 
Toots  Shor's  get  a  much  higher  Allen 
rating.  In  these  he  often  lingers  for  a 
pleasant  hour  to  enjoy  conversation  and 
coffee  with  other  notables  of  the  radio 
and  theater  world. 

In  such  places  echo  and  re-echo  some 
of  the  more  enduring  Fred  Allen 
stories.  Eavesdropping,  you're  likely 
to  hear  that  famous  story  about  Fred's 
verbal  one-two  punch  at  Jack  Benny 
(for  whom,  really,  Fred  has  boundless 
admiration  and  affection).  Guesting 
on  the  Fred  Allen  Show,  the  Waukegan 
Kid  made  a  fatal  mistake:  he  tried  to 
depart  from  the  script  and  out-ad-lib 
Fred.  Exactly  what  Jack  said  was  lost 
in  the  confusion  but,  whatever  it  was, 
Fred  hopped  him  down  with  a  de- 
vastating rejoinder.  Struck  speechless. 
Jack  turned  helplessly  to  the  studio 
audience  (and  several  million  listen- 
ers) gasping,  "I'll  give  a  thousand  dol- 
lars for  an  answer  to  that  one!"  In- 
stantly, Fred  shot  back  at  him  with, 
"I'll  sell  you  a  little  answer  for  five 
hundred!" 

That  story  naturally  leads  to  the  one 
concerning  Fred's  guest  appearance  on 
Jack  Benny's  show,  shortly  after  their 
so-called  feud  started.  Jack's  introduc- 
tion of  his  guest  was  a  long  string  of 
withering  remarks.  Fred  took  it  for  a 
while  and  then  cut  in  with,  "Okay, 
Mr.  Benny.  If  I  get  any  more  insults 
out  of  you,  I'll  knock  you  flatter  than 
the  first  six  minutes  of  this  program!" 

Sooner  or  later,  you'll  hear  that  story 
about  Fred  and  the  too-insistent  auto- 
graph hunter.  It  was  after  a  broadcast. 
Fred  had  already  obliged  by  autograph- 
ing his  name  for  several  dozen  people 
and,  pleading  fatigue,  had  just  asked 
the  crowd  of  clamoring  women  to  ex- 
cuse him.  "Oh,  but  Mr.  Allen,"  one 
wailed,  "you  simply  must  autograph 
this.  Why,  I  came  all  the  way  from  San 
Francisco — just  to  attend  your  broad- 
cast!" After  a  stunned  moment,  Fred 
answered,  "Madame,"  he  purred,  "if 
Uncle  Jim,  here,  and  I  had  only  known 
you  were  coming  all  that  distance  just 
to  catch  my  little  old  radio  show,  we'd 
have  gone  to  Omaha.  Shucks,  the  least 
we  could  do  is  meet  you  half  way." 

Generally,  however,  Fred's  wit  is  of 
the  genial  sort.  Back  in  '34,  when 
Town  Hall  Tonight  highlighted  not  only 


don't  miss 


no 


Gala  Broadcast 

Wednesday,   February   9 

ABC    Stations 

Check    Your    Paper    For    Time 

for  the  BIG  SURPRISE  of  1949 


Read  the  big  news  on  Bing  Crosby  in  March  PHOTOPLAY  magazine.   Look 
for  Bing  and  his  four  sons  on  the  cover.    On  sale  now. 


Minerva  Pious,  Charlie  Cantor  and 
Harry  Von  Zell  in  The  Mighty  Allen 
Players  but  also  featured  one  of  the 
first  amateur  shows  in  radio,  Fred 
demonstrated  his  spontaneous  humor 
when  one  contestant,  an  accordianist, 
became  flustered.  In  his  anxiety  to 
start  promptly,  the  young  musician 
forgot  to  undo  the  strap  that  kept  his 
accordian  bellows  from  spreading  out 
to  its  full  exent.  He  began  swinging 
right  into  a  lively,  jivey  treatment  of 
"Twelfth  Street  Rag,"  but  before  he 
had  played  four  bars  of  the  tune, 
Fred  stopped  him.  "Son,"  he  drawled, 
"you'd  better  unfasten  that  strap  or 
you'll  never  get  past  Fourth  Street." 

Even  the  late  President  Roosevelt 
figured  in  a  typical  Allen  jest.  It  hap- 
pened in  December,  1944,  when  coffee 
rationing  inspired  many  a  joke.  Fred's.  1 
eloquent  commentary  on  the  shortages  | 
was  sent,  along  with  his  Yuletide  greet- 
ings, to  F.D.R.  It  was  a  stunningly- 
wrapped  Christmas  package  bearing 
the  impressive  label  of  Cartier,  fabu- 
lous Fifth  Avenue  jewelers.  Afteri 
opening  several  layers  of  colorful 
paper,  F.D.R.  came  to  a  tiny  inner  box, 
also  carefully  and  exquisitely  wrapped. 
When  this  was  opened,  its  contents 
were  revealed — one  single,  solitary, 
precious  coffee  bean. 


AS  THE  portrait  stands  now,  you're 
ready  to  grant  that  Fred  is  a  talented- 
entertainer,  a  wit,  a  perfectionist.  But 
the  Allen  story  is  incomplete  unless 
you  search  a  bit  deeper  and  discover 
what  lies  underneath  his  smooth,  brittle 
shell  of  cleverness. 

Allen  doesn't  publicize  this  aspect, 
but  many  of  his  friends  don't  hesitate 
to.  Among  the  people  who  know  him 
well,  it's  an  old  story.  Fred,  they  will 
tell  you,  has  proven  himself  "The 
Softest  Touch  In  Show  Business." 
They  say  it  with  genuine  respect  and 
admiration. 

They  will  cite  instance  after  instance 
of  Fred's  warmhearted  generosity  to- 
ward temporarily  or  chronically  down- 
and-out  show  folk.  They  will  tell  you 
how  Fred  used  to  walk  down  Broad- 
way, his  pockets  sttxffed  with  money, 
ready  with  unquestioning,  substantial 
hand-outs  for  his  less  fortunate 
friends.  They  will  tell  you  how  Fred 
once  listened  sympathetically  to  a  per- 
former's sad,  sad  story,  and  then- 
promptly  put  up  $200  so  that  the  man' 
could  buy  a  trained  kangaroo  for  his", 
animal  act  .  .  .  and  how  Fred  financed 
the  feeding  of  that  kangaroo  for  sev- 
eral months  until  the  act  got  book- 
ing. They  will  tell  you  of  the  Main 
Stem  Moocher  who  tried  to  boost  Fred 
from  a  five-dollar  "loan"  t&  a  ten-dol- 
lar one,  explaining  he  needed  that 
amount  to  get  his  teeth  out  of  hock  in 
order  to  work  in  Hoboken  as  master  of, 
ceremonies  in  a  show  .  .  .  and  how  Fredi 
forked  over  the  ten-spot,  saying,  "Here 
you  are.  What  the  hell  good  is  an  m.c. 
without  his  teeth!"  They  will  relate 
a  hundred  other  examples  and,  to 
prove  that  Fred's  generosity  is  no  re- 
cent trait,  they  will  point  out  that  when 
Sam  Cohen  met  hard  times,  years  ago, 
Fred  was  his  chief  source  of  support. 

Your  final  conclusion,  then,  is  that, 
beneath  Fred's  caustic,  wise-cracking 
surface  there  beats  a  heart  of  gold. 

You'll  never  get  him  to  acknowledge 
any  such  thing,  though.  You  simply 
can't  get  corny  or  sentimental  with 
Fred.  At  best,  he'll  comment  by 
stating  the  one  principle  that  guides 
him  through  life  .  .  . 

"As  I  scurry  down  the  road  to  obliv- 
ion, I  try  to  do  unto  others  as  I  would 
have  them  do  unto  me." 


Amazing  ^ew^Mivlifo^>iimcm^ 

Curls  and  Hkves 


safe!  The  most  sensational  beauty 
discovery  in  years.  Imagine!  One  tiny 
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in  minutes,  not  hours.  No  fuss,  no 
bother,  no  tedious  waiting.  Absolutely 
harmless  . . .  use  after  every  shampoo 
.  .  .  the  more  you  use,  the  more 
naturally  waved  your  hair  becomes  — 
the  longer  your  wave  lasts.  Easy 
now  to  "control"  your  new  shorte'-- 
styled  hair-do !  Independent 
Laboratory  tests  on  the  four  leading 
waving  capsules  PROVED  Minit 
Curl  far  superior  in  every  way  . . . 
in  giving  curl,  lustre  and 
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Exciting^  Safe  easy  way  gives  soft^  natural  looking^  longer  lasting 

CURLS  and  WAVES  in  MII\UTES 


EASY  TO  USE;  Just  empty  contents  oi one  capsule  in  2  to  3 
ounces  hot  water.  Comb  solution  generously  through  hair 
(after  shampooing,  with  hair  slightly  damp)  and  set  in  waves, 
pin  curls  or  curlers.  (Use  any  type  curlers  or  pins  —  metal, 
plastic.)  Allow  to  dry,  then  comb  or  brush.  Minit  Curl  con- 
tains a  special  conditioning  element  Glorium ...  It  encourages 
each  silken  strand  to  acquire  the  natural  lustrous  wave  or 
curl — you  have  always  dreamed  of  having. 


I.  Dissolve  upsule  in  2  to  3  oz. 
hot  water 


2.  Comb  solution  through  hair 


3.  Set  hair ...  lei  dry 


WONDEHFUL   FOH  CHILUIIEIV  — who 

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in  appearance  I 


DO  I\OT  BE  MISLEAD  DY  SUB- 
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CAPS  in  the  green  and  brown  package! 

HOW  IT  WORKS  — Minit  Curl 
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bleached  or  dyed  hair). 
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•  No  experience  necessary. 

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NAME 


ADDRESS- 


"I've  been  smoking  Chesterfields  ever  since 
ve  been  smoking.  Tbey  buy  tbe  best  cigarette 
tobacco  ^rown . . .  it's  MILD,  sweet  tobacco." 


MAKE  YOURS  THE  MILDER  CIGARETTE 


Copyright  1949.  Liggett  &  Myers  Tobacco  Co. 


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I      Photostory  of 
ARTHUR  GODFREY 

Life  story  of 

RED  SK ELTON 

VJinnrn^  Favorites 


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GODFREY 


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Every 


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hade  of  red  umJer 


nerlon 


--"■"^'"'""lofc  smarter  .itl.K-lon/ 
S.art  hands  al^^T^  ^-'^ 


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This  Oh-so-delightful  ^^musf^^- 


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YES,  countless  thousands  make 
Listerine  Antiseptic  and  massage  a 
part  of  regular  hair-washing  routine.  If 
you're  not  one  of  them  you  ought  to  be. 

This  delightful  aid  does  so  many  things 
to  help  you  be  proud  of  your  hair. 

It  goes  after  oily  film,  floats  away 
loose  dandruff  flakes,  and  combats  scalp 
odor.  But,  most  important  of  all,  it 
kills  millions  of  germs  associated  with 
infectious  dandruff .  .  .  that  troublesome, 
persistent  disorder  so  prevalent  among 
women. 


Once  entrenched,  it  can  also  raise  hob 
with  the  health  of  your  scalp  .  .  .  the 
looks  of  your  hair. 

Because  of  its  quick,  cleansing  germ- 
killing  action,  Listerine  Antiseptic  is  a 
wonderful  precaution  against  infectious 
dandrufi^,  as  well  as  an  eflfective  twice- 
a-day  treatment  once  the  condition  has 
started. 


For  the  glory  of  your  hair,  for  the 
health  of  your  scalp,  make  Listerine 
Antiseptic  and  massage  a  regular  part 
of  hair- washing.  Also,  it's  an  intelli- 
gent routine  for  your  husband  and 
children  who  are  by  no  means  immune 
to  infectious  dandruff. 

Listerine  Antiseptic  is  the  same  anti- 
septic that  has  been  famous  for  over 
60  years  in  the  field  of  oral  hygiene. 

LAMBERrPtiAKMACALCo.,  St. Louis,  Aio. 


The  "Bottle  Bacillus",  scientifically  known  as 
"P.  Ovale",  called  by  many  dermatologists 
a  causative  agent  of  infectious   dandruff. 


LISTERINE  ANTISEPTIC 


INFECTIOUS  DANDRUFF 


p.  S.  Have  you  tried  the  new  Listerine  Tooth  Paste,  the  Minty  3-way  Prescription  for  your  Teeth? 


ic         It         if         ic         -k 

Don't  be 
Half-safe! 

by 

VALDA  SHERMAN 


At  the  first  blush  of  womanhood  many  mys- 
terious changes  take  place  in  your  body.  For 
instance,  the  apocrine  glands  under  your 
arms  begin  to  secrete  daily  a  type  of  perspi- 
ration you  have  never  known  before.  This  is 
closely  related  to  physical  development  and 
causes  an  unpleasant  odor  on  both  your  per- 
son and  your  clothes. 

There  is  nothing  "wrong"  with  you.  It's  just 
another  sign  you  are  now  a  woman,  not  a 
girl ...  so  now  you  must  keep  yourself  safe 
with  a  truly  effective  underarm  deodorant. 

Two  clangers— Underarm  odor  is  a  real  handi- 
cap at  this  romantic  age,  and  the  new  cream 
deodorant  Arrid  is  made  especially  to  over- 
come this  very  difficulty.  It  kills  this  odor 
on  contact  in  2  seconds,  then  by  antiseptic 
action  prevents  the  formation  of  all  odor  for 
48  hours  and  keeps  you  shower-bath  fresh. 
It  also  stops  perspiration  and  so  protects 
against  a  second  danger— perspiration  stains. 
Since  physical  exertion,  embarrassment  and 
emotion  can  now  cause  apocrine  glands 
to  fairly  gush  perspiration,  a  dance,  a  date, 
an  embarrassing  remark  may  easily  make 
you  perspire  and  offend,  or  ruin  a  dress. 

All  deodorants  are  not  alike  — so  remember 
—no  other  deodorant  tested  stops  perspira- 
tion and  odor  so  completely  yet  so  safely  as 
new  Arrid.  Its  safety  has  been  proved  by 
doctors.  That's  why  girls  your  age  buy  more 
Arrid  than  any  other  age  group.  In  fact,  more 
men  and  women  everywhere  use  Arrid  than 
any  other  deodorant.  It's  antiseptic,  used  by 
117,000   nurses. 

intimate  protection  is  needed— so  protect  your- 
self with  this  snowy,  stainless  creani  that 
smooths  on  and  disappears.  Arrid,  with  the 
amazing  new  ingredient  Creamogen,  is 
guaranteed  not  to  crystallize  or  dry  out 
in  the  jar,  or  new  jar  free  on  return  to  Carter 
Products,  Inc.,  53  Park  PI.,  N.  Y.  C.  The 
American  Laundering  Institute  has  awarded 
Arrid  its  Approval  Seal— harmless  to  fabrics. 
Arrid  is  safe  for  the  skin— non-irritating— can 
be  used  right  after  shaving. 

Don't  be  half-safe.  During  this  "age  of  ro- 
mance" don't  let  perspiration  problems  spoil 
your  fun.  Don't  be  half-safe— be  Arrid-safe! 
Use  Arrid  to  be  sure.  Get  Arrid  now  at  your 
favorite  drug  counter  —  only  39^  plus  tax. 


Adveitisement 


APRIL,  1949 


VOL.  31,  NO.  5 


MIRROR 


AJVn  TELEVISlOy 


KEYSTONE 


Radio  Mirror  Awards  for  1948. 


23 


RidPir  ON   THE   Aifi 


"Thanks  for  Listening" by  Kate  Smith 

Radio  Mirror  Awards  Winners  for  1948 '^".'i'^" 

"I  Call  Him  Keighley" by  Genevieve  Tobin  Keighley 

"You  Can't  Let  Up"— Bill  Stern by  Martin  Cohen 

The  Wever  Way by  Ira  Knaster 

Suspense — in  Pictures *^ 

Quiz  Kids'  Kelly .•  •  ■  • ;  •  "^     T   i' '     Ti 

Wendy  and  the  Widow by  Rose  A.  Englander    46 

The  Blonde  I  Prefer •  '^^  V  S")^"""^    ^S 

The  Most  Important  Things by  M.  A.  McCann    6Z 

Mable  Flapsaddle — Alias  Sara  Berner "4 


Collector's  Corner by  Margaret  Whiting 

What's  New  From  Coast  to  Coast by  Dale  Banks 

Facing  The  Music by  Duke  EUmgton 

Information  Booth ,' '  't  ' '  W  ' '  • ' 

Look  At  The  Records by  Joe  Martin 

Inside  Radio 

Quiz  Catalogue 


EjOR  BtTTtR  IIVING 


What  Makes  You  Tick? by  John  McCaffery 

Date  Data by  Mary  Jane  Fulton 

Traveler  of  The  Month by  Tommy  Bartlett 

Between  The  Bookends by  Ted  Malone 

When  A  Girl  Marries by  Joan  Davis 

Living  Within  Your  Income by  Terry  Burton 


3 
8 
12 
16 
17 
68 
71 


18 
19 
20 
64 
66 
72 


WLAW :  Look  to  your  Laurels ! 4 

KDKA:  Busy  as  a  Beaver • 6 

WFIL:  Predicting  the  Unpredictable 10 

WBEN:  Buffalo's  Bearded  Sage 1* 

Emugsa 

The  First  Big  Link f 

Lucky  Pup I" 

Douglas  Edwards  and  the  News ^^ 

Coast  to  Coast  in  Television r'i":'"^"'  r. 

One  Wonderful  Guy— Milton  Berle by  Irving  Gray  54 


The  Skelton  Saga Red  Skelton's  life  story  by  Pauline  Swanson    56 

ON  THE  COVER:   Arthur  Godfrey;  color  portrait  by  Ozzie  Sweet. 

FiEDK-SAMMls  DORIS  McFEKKAN  JACK  ziToBIN 

Managing  Editor  ^JU'!"^'r.^l' ^iTv" 

EVELYN  L.  EIOKE  FRANCES  MAI.Y 

Television  Editorial  Assistant  „^5^*^''Jv*,.,« 

FRANCES  KISH  JOAN  POLLOCK  TERU  GOTO 

Chicago  Office:  Editor,  HELEN  CAMBRIA  BOLSTAD 
Hollywood  Office:  Editor,    ANN  DAGGETT  Managing  Editor,    FRANCES  MORBIN 

Staff  Photographers.   HYMIE  FINK.  STERLING  SMITH     Assistant.  BETTY  JO  RICE 


RADIO   AND    TELEVISION    MIRROK,    PUb»shed    monthly    by   MA(^ADD|JJ    PUBLICATIONS     INC.,    N^^w    york.^N.  J^ 

ncn^rai    Rii«inps=.    F.riitarial    and    Advertising    Offices.    205    East    4^nd    tot.,    w'^-^i'J'"'      mht-^iih    w4=p_    KvecuLive   Vice 


Hills  omce:    azi    a.   ueveny   a^»»^^i  ."^•^^y^    '"*;-'^r  ~'iJ" Vr^    Vir*»  Pi-P<5idf>nt-    Mever  Dworkin,    Secretary  ana    iit;d^>j_»ci, 

g-°nip|"i-„^^,?,i-»STe"s'  5rt'hrir?oS?r^'i?f5o?>"s?  o^S^iJ^isJ^t-SIy^^e  ^SiW"n-re'iS^"ri=K.   Th^e  con&nt3  of  tMB 
ma.a,.ine  H,ay  not  be  .eprinte.  eUber  wboHy  or ^in_^pa^..^wKbout^ pen^^^ 

copyright,    194a.  by  Mactadden  Publlc'a-ions    Inc.  All  rjBhts  ""'^''d  m>4er  IntjrnaUonal  C^^ 
rights  reserved   unSer   Pan-American   Copyright  Convention.    Todos   derechos   '|servados   segun   t.a   ^-"u 
americana  de  Propiedad  Literaria  y  Artistica.  Title  trademark  registered  in  U.  S.  Patent  oaice. 
ameritdim  ue  r     i-  =  printed   In  U.   S.   A.  by  Art  Color  Printing  Co.,   Dunellen.  N.   J. 


(^oilectoi*  & 


I 


ornev 


By  MARGARET  WHITING 


BEWG  horn  the  daughter  of  a  iamous 
songwriter  can  he  a  hindrance  to 
a  young  girl's  career.  No  one  ever 
wants  to  hire  the  daughter  of  a  close 
friend.  Margaret  Whiting,  however, 
wouldn't  he  stopped.  Her  many  radio 
programs  have  made  her  nationally 
famous.  Her  Capitol  recordings  have 
made  her  nationally  loved.  Perhaps 
her  choice  of  "favorite"  records  will 
offer  a  "look-see"  into  her  musical  life. 

If  my  selections  for  a  basic  library 
don't  include  records  of  songs  that  were 
written  by  my  dad,  it's  only  because  I 
feel  it  obvious  that  they  are  and  always 
will  be  my  favorites.  Naturally,  too,  I 
have  every  one  of  my  own  records — 
specifically  because  I  use  them  all  the 
time  to  improve  my  singing. 

I've  never  believed  in  concentrating 
on  one  kind  of  music  for  a  collection 
of  records.  While  at  any  one  time  I 
may  expand  my  catalogue  of  discs  by 
collecting  a  whole  batch  of  one  style  or 
school,  I  always  fall  back  on  a  few  top 
favorites.  For  example,  I'll  never  be 
without  an  album  of  Serge  Rachmanin- 
off's "Concerto  for  Piano  and  Orches- 
tra" No.  2  in  C.  Minor — Opus  18.  I  shall 
always,  also,  have  Ravel's  "Daphnis  and 
Chloe"  Suite  No.  2.  And,  who,  may  I 
ask,  doesn't  like  "Clair  De  Lune"  as 
played  by  the  Boston  Pops  Orchestra? 

Among  album  sets  by  popular  artists, 
Frank  Sinatra's  songs  (Volume  1)  will 
always  keep  its  honored  place  on  my 
record  shelf.  The  way  Frank  sings 
"Someone  To  Watch  Over  Me"  is  a 
classic  of  recorded  music.  Johnny  Mer- 
cer's recent  record  release  of  a  song 
that  was  performed  on  the  screen  by 
Fred  Astaire  immediately  became  a 
collector's  item  for  me.  It  was  his  disc- 
ing of  "One  For  My  Baby."  The  truly 
great  musicianship  of  Duke  Ellington  is 
superbly  expressed  on  his  record  of 
"Conga  Braba."  Tutti  Camarata's  ver- 
sion of  "The  Haunted  Ballroom"  with 
the  Kingsway  Symphony  Orchestra,  al- 
though a  recent  recording,  is  also  one  of 
my  all-time  favorites. 

So,  you  see,  my  musical  tastes  are 
quite  varied.  "They  run  from  symphon- 
ies to  swoon  and  from  seventy-nine- 
cent  discs  to  the  more  expensive  albums. 
And  if  I  may  be  bold  enough  to  offer 
any  advice  about  record  collecting,  then 
it  is  to  listen  to  everything  with  an 
open  mind  and  buy  all  types  of  records. 
Let  your  musical  tastes  be  expanded 
by  sampling  everything  that  is  written. 


TONI  TWINS  prove  magic  of 
SOFT-WATER  Shampooing 


LATHER  ,  .  .  WAS 
KATHERINE'S   PROBLEM. 

"My  shampoo  simply  would 
not  lather  right",  complained 
Katherine  Ring.  "I'd  rub  and 
rub  but  still  my  hair  never 
had  much  glint  to  it!"  And 
no  wonder!  Katherine  was 
using  a  soap  shampoo,  and 
soaps  not  only  fail  to  lather 
as  well  in  hard  water— they 
actually  leave  a  film  on  hair 
that  dulls  natural  lustre!  So 
your  hair  lacks  highlights, 
looks  drab  and  lifeless ! 


BUT  KATHLEENE 
GOT  HEAPS  OF  IT! 

"Look  at  all  this  lather", 
smiled  her  twin,  Kathleene. 
"I  discovered  that  Toni 
Creme  Shampoo  gives  Soft- 
Water  Shanipooing  even  in 
hard  water!  Inever  saw  such 
suds!  Never  saw  my  hair  so 
shining  clean  before,  either !" 
That's  what  Toni's  Soft- 
Water  Shampooing  means. 
Even  in  hard  water  it  means 
billows  of  rich,  whipped- 
cream  suds  that  leave  your 
hair  shimmering  clean! 


S&fcrf^.*. 


NOW  IT'S  TONI  CREME  SHAMPOO  FOR  TWO! 

Yes,  it's  Toni  and  only  Toni  for  both  the 
Ring  twins  from  now  on.  Because  Toni 
Creme  Shampoo  gives  Soft-Water  Sham- 

f)ooing  in  hard  water!  That  creamy-thick 
ather  rinses  away  dirt  and  dandruff  in- 
stantly. Leaves  your  hair  fragrantly  clean, 
gloriously  soft !  And  Toni  Creme  Shampoo 
helps  yourpermanent  to  "take"  better —look 
lovelier  longer.  Get  a  Jar  or  tube  of  Toni 
Creme  Shampoo  today.  See  it  work  the  magic 
of  Soft- Water  Shampooing  on  your  hair! 


Enriched  with  Lanolin 


look  to  your  LAURELS! 


STARGAZERS,  according  to  Webster's  dictionary, 
are  dreamers  and  idealists.  In  99  out  of  100  cases, 
that's  true.  But  the  hundredth  case  is  WLAW's 
program  of  that  name  heard  Thursdays  at  8:30  P.M. 

These  "Stargazers"  are  not  those  who  stand  and 
moon  at  the  night  skies,  but  an  ensemble  which,  for 
four  years,  has  been  lifting  its  voice  in  song  over 
WLAW  for  the  pleasure  and  entertainment  of  listen- 
ers from  Portland,  Me.,  to  Newport,  R.  I. 

"Stargazers"  are  not  hopeful,  untried  amateurs; 
they  are  auditioned  and  accepted  for  the  cast  only 
after  they  have  displayed  talent  suitable  for  broad- 
casting, and,  by  performance,  have  proven  their  right 
to  take  the  first  step  up  the  ladder  of  success. 

Stargazer  programs  are  of  true  professional  stan- 
dards. Their  repertoire  includes  both  popular  and 
semi-classical  compositions;  they  have  been  so  warm- 
ly received  at  all  appearances  that  they  maintain  a 
busy  weekly  schedule  of  rehearsal  dates  and  stage  en- 
gagements in  addition  to  their  radio  show. 

The  group,  on  the  whole,  is  comparatively  young; 
most  of  the  members  are  in  their  twenties.  This  in- 
cludes women  who  work  in  factories,  stores  and 
offices,  and  men  who  may  be  doing  any  form  of  work 
from  piloting  a  truck  to  pumping  gasoline  into  a  car. 

More  than  fifty  people  participate  each  week.  This 
includes  a  chorus,  individual  soloists  (including  a 
budding  star  each  broadcast)  and  a  studio  orchestra. 

The  chorus  is  directed  by  Edward  Comtois,  who  in- 
corporates many  of  Fred  Waring's  techniques  into  the 
ensemble's  renditions.  Musical  director  Charles  An- 
nalaro  adds  his  own  novel  arrangements. 

The  future  may  hold  much  for  these  youngsters, 
and — who  knows — from  out  of  their  midst  may  come 
the  names  to  take  the  places  of  those  who  today  sur- 
vey the  world  from  the  top  rung  of  the  ladder. 

"Stargazers"  may  be  dreamers  and  idealists,  but 
WLAW's  Stargazers  are  trying  to  make  the  ideal  a 
reality,  and  the  dream  come  true. 


Edward  Comtois,  a  pupil  of  Fred  Waring,  leads 
"The  Vocalaires"  (Stargazers'  chorus)  in  song. 


During  Stargazers'  rehearsal,  Beatrice  McKenzie  runs 
over  a  song  while  Dorice  Shorten  idles  at  the  piano. 


A  pre-broadcast  conference:  Charles  Annalaro,  1.,  musi- 
cal director  of  the  show,  checks  with  Producer  James  T. 
Mahoney,  center,  as  announcer  Harvey  Chester  looks  on. 


JTev  Juf>iL  mjuu  Jco^^ 


cmaee 


'Wii^^ 


^  ^ 


It 


/Ci/ylQ€j2^     K»SS  COLORS 

TANGEE  riNK  QUEEN— A  new  pink ...  to  give 
extra  ''kiss  appeal"  to  your  lips. 

TANGEE  RED-RED  — Best  bet  for  brunettes. 
This  rich,  intriguing  red  is  a  sure  magnet 
for  kisses. 

MNGEE  THEATRICAl  RED— This  dramatic  color 
makes  red -heads  look  doubly  warm  and 
tempting. 

TANGEE  6 AY-RED— Terrific  for  blondes . . .  gives 
ijps  that  gay,  reckless,  "I-dare-you"  look. 


as  interpreted  by 

MEG  RANDALL 

AND 

RICHARD  LONG 

in  a  scene  from 

THE  LIFE  OF  RILEY 

A  UNIVERSAL-INTERNATIGKM  RELEASE 


'C(MO€£'     KISSABLE  TEXTCRE 

/.  Keeps  lips  soft . . .  invitingly  moist. 

2.  Feels  just  right . . .  gives  you  confidence. 

5.  Does  not  smear  or  run  at  the  edges. 

T.  Goes  on  so  easily... so  smoothly... so  quickly. 

5.  And  it  lasts— and  LASTS— and  L-A-S-T-S! 


BUSY 

as  a 
BEAVER 


Petite  Miss  Beverley  is  4'  10",  weighs 
88  pounds,  once  wanted  to  be  a  dancer. 


KDKA's   Elaine   Beverley   is   a   frequent   entertainer   at   the   Chil- 
dren's   Hospital    of    Pittsburgh,    which    is    her    favorite    charity. 


KDKA's  petite  Elaine  Beverley  has  a  stock  answer  for  folks 
who  want  to  know  how  she  became  successful.  Says  she, 
"I  was  always  a  busy  beaver!" 

Since  the  age  of  eight  she's  been  on  the  stage,  screen  and 
radio,  acting,  dancing  and  singing.  Her  first  dancing  lessons 
came  when  she  was  four  and  all  through  grade  school,  high 
school  and  college  she  thought  she  might  become  a  dancer. 
But  three  years  as  a  singer  with  Maurice  Spitalny's  orchestra 
changed  that,  even  though  she  had  been  featured  in  the  Pitts- 
burgh Civic  Ballet  and  on  the  stage  of  the  Stanley  Theater. 

KDKA's  regional  network  show,  Memory  Time,  gives  her 
a  chance  to  show  her  versatility  as  a  singer.  She  does  pop 
numbers,  duets  with  singing-M.C.  Buzz  Aston,  sings  in  the 
chorus  and  is  highlighted  in  tunes  of  the  "Gay  Nineties"  type. 

A  latent  dramatic  talent  was  developed  on  Brunch  With 
Bill  where  she  portrays  various  female  characters  in  skits 
by  Brunchmaster  Bill  Hinds  and  Actor-Writer  Ed  King. 

Away  from  the  studio.  Miss  Beverley  likes  to  cook  and  go  to 
baseball  games.  She's  married  to  Joe  Mann,  Pittsburgh  radio 
announcer,  and,  because  they  spent  their  honeymoon  at  Miami 
Beach,  they  return  each  winter  for  another  "honeymoon." 

One  of  the  busiest  persons  in  Pittsburgh's  entertainment 
world.  Miss  Beverley  can't  say  too  much  for  the  help  given  her 
by  Mamie  Barth,  Maurice  Spitalny  and  her  announcer- 
husband.  "Joe  keeps  my  feet  on  the  ground,"  she  says.  "He's 
the  severest  kind  of  critic,  but  he's  good  for  me." 


Elaine  perches  atop  the  piano  with  the  Memory  Time  chorus:  left  to  right,  singing-M.C.  Buzz  Aston,  Florence 
Berg,  Bill  Sutherland,  Ev  Neill,  seated,  at  the  piano,    Dick  Fischer,  Bemie  Maxwell,  Bob  Hughes,  and  Ray  Griffin. 


"I  WAS  ASHAMED 
OF  MY  FACE 

until  Viderm  made  my  dreams  of  a 
dearer  skin  come  true  in  one  short  week" 


(FROM  A  LEHER  TO  BETTY  MEMPHIS  SENT  HER  BY  ETHEL  JORDAN,  DETROIT,  MICH.) 

If  your  face  Is  broken  out,  If  bad  skin  Is  making  you 

miserable,  here  Is  how  to  stop  worrying 

about  pimples,  blackheads 

and  other  externally  caused  skin  troubles, 

JUST  FOLLOW  SKIN  DOCTOR'S  SIMPLE  DIRECTIONS 


BETTY   MEMPHIS 

I  just  want  to  be  alone!"  Is  there  any- 
thing more  awful  than  the  blues  that 
come  when  your  face  is  broken  out  and 
you  feel  like  hiding  away  because  of 
pimples,  blackheads  and  similar  exter- 
nally caused  skin  troubles?  I  know  how 
it  feels  from  personal  experience.  And  I 
can  appreciate  the  wonderful,  wonder- 
ful joy  that  Ethel  S.  Jordan  felt  when 
she  found  something  that  not  only 
promised  her  relief — but  gave  it  to  her 
in  just  one  short  week! 

When  I  was  having  my  own  skin 
troubles,  I  tried  a  good  many  cosmetics, 
ointments  and  whatnot  that  were  rec- 
ommended to  me.  I  remember  vividly 
how  disappointed  I  felt  each  time,  until 
I  discovered  the  skin  doctor's  formula 
now  known  as  the  Double  Viderm 
Treatment.  I  felt  pretty  wonderful  when 
friends  began  to  rave  about  my  "movie - 
star  skin."  No  more  self-consciousness. 
No  more  having  my  friends  feel  sorry 
for  me.  The  secret  joy,  again,  of  running 
my  fingertips  over  a  smoother,  clearer 
skin. 

Many  women  shut  themselves  out  of  the 
thrills  of  life-r-dates,  romance,  popularity, 
social  and  business  success — only  because 
sheer  neglect  has  robbed  them  of  the  good 
looks,  poise  and  feminine  self-assurance 
which  could  so  easily  be  theirs.  Yes,  every- 
body looks  at  your  face.   The  beautiful 


A  screen  star's 
face  is  her  for- 
tune. That's  why 
she  makes  it  her 
business  to  pro- 
tect  her  com- 
plexion against 
pimples,  black- 
heads and  blem- 
ishes. Your  face  is 
no  different.  Give 
it  the  Double 
Treatment  it 
needs  and  watch 
those  skin  blem- 
ishes go  away. 


^^  ^eHu  tyfiem^Ai^ 


complexion,  which  is  yours  for  the  asking, 
is  like  a  permanent  card  of  admission  to 
all  the  good  things  of  life  that  every 
woman  craves.  And  it  really  can  be  yours 
— take  my  word  for  it! — no  matter  how 
discouraged  you  may  be  this  very  minute 
about  those  externally  caused  skin  miseries. 

What  Makes  "Bad  Skin"  Get  That  Way? 

iWedical  science  gives  us  the  truth  about 
how  skin  blemishes  usually  develop.  There 
are  small  specks  of  dust  and  dirt  in  the-  air 
all  the  time.  When  these  get  into  the  open 
pores  in  your  skin,  they  can  in  time 
"stretch"  the  pores  and  make  them  large 
enough  to  pocket  dirt  particles,  dust  and 
infection.  These  open  pores  become  in- 
fected and  bring  you  the  humiliation  of 
pimples,  blackheads  or  other  blemishes. 
Often,  the  natural  oils  that  lubricate  your 
skin  will  harden  in  the  pores  and  result  in 
unsightly  blemishes. 

When  you  neglect  your  skin  by  not  giv- 
ing it  the  necessary  care,  you  leave  your- 
self wide  open  to  externally  caused  skin 
miseries.  Yet  proper  attention  with  the 
Double  Viderm  Treatment  may  mean  the 
difference  between  enjoying  the  confidence 
a  fine  skin  gives  you  or  the  embarrassment 
of  an  ugly,  unbeautiful_  skin  that  makes 
you  want  to  hide  your  face. 


U  se  your  Double  Viderm  Treatment 
every  day  until  your  skin 'is  smoother  and 
clearer.  Then  use  it  only  once  a  week  to 
remove  stale  make-up  and  dirt  specks 
that  infect  your  pores,  as  well  as  to  aid  in 
healing  external  irritations.  Remember 
that  when  you  help  prevent  blackheads, 
you  also  help  to  prevent  externally  caused 
skin  miseries  and  pimples. 

Just  mail  your  name  and  address  to  Betty 
Memphis,  care  of  the  New  York  Skin 
Laboratory,  206  Division  Street,  Dept.  96, 
New  York  2,  N.  Y.  By  return  mail  you  will 
receive  the  doctor's  directions,  and  both 


The  Double  Viderm  Treatment  is  a  for- 
mula'prescribed  with  amazing  success  by 
a  dermatologist  and  costs  you  only  a  few 
cents  daily.  This  treatment  consists  of  two 
jars.  One  contains  Viderm  Skin 
Cleanser,  a  jelly-like  formula  which 
penetrates  your  pores  and  acts  as  an 
antiseptic.  After  you  use  this  special 
Viderm  Skin  Cleanser,  you  simply  ap- 
ply the  Viderm  Fortified  Medicated 
Skin  Cream.  You  rub  this  in,  leaving  an 
almost  invisible  protective  covering  for 
the  surface  of  your  skin. 

This  double  treatment  has  worked 
wonders  for  so  many  cases  of  external 
skin  troubles  that  it  may  help  you,  too 
— in  tact,  your  money  will  be  refunded 
if  it  doesn't.  Use  it  for  only  ten  days. 
You  have  everything  to  gain  and  noth- 
ing to  lose.  It  is  a  guaranteed  treat- 
ment. Enjoy  it.  Your  dream  of  a  clearer, 
smoother  complexion  may  come  true 
in  ten  days  or  less. 


jars,  packed  in  a  safety-sealed  carton.  On 
delivery,  pay  two  dollars  plus  postage.  If 
you  wish,  you  can  save  the  postage  fee  by 
mailing  the  two  dollars  with  your  letter. 
Then,  if  you  are  in  any  way  dissatisfied, 
your  money  will  be  cheerfully  refunded. 
To  give  you  an  idea  of  how  fully  tested 
and  proven  the  Viderm  Double  Treatment 
is,  it  may  interest  you  to  know  that,  up  to 
this  month,  over  two  hundred  and  thirty- 
one  thousand  women  have  ordered  it  on 
my  recommendation.  If  you  could  only  see 
the  thousands  of  happy,  grateful  letters 
that  have  come  to  me  as  a  result,  you 
would  know  the  joy  this  simple  treatment 
can  bring.  And,  think  of  it! — the  treat- 
ment must  work  for  you,  or  it  doesn't  cost 
you  a  cent.  Advertisement 


^^m^mtm 


from 


THERE'S  a  lot  of  headshaking  going  on  in  radio 
circles  over  the  cancellation  of  "mr.  ace  and 
JANE"  after  such  a  brief  trial  run.  People  in 
the  know  feel  that  it  wasn't  fair  for  the  sponsor 
to  judge  by  the  regular  rating  systems,  because 
the  show,  which  they  consider  one  of  the  most 
adult  and  best  written  in  radio  comedy,  didn't  have 
time  enough  really  to  catch  on.  Seems  that  spon- 
sor's offices  are  the  only  remaining  places  in  the 
country  where  pollsters — Gallup,  Roper  or  Hooper 
— still  retain  any  prestige. 


Hollywood  is  still  chuckling  over  the  plight  of 
Norman  Chandler,  owner  of  the  L,os  Angeles  Times 
and  video  station  KTTV.  It  seems  Mr.  Chandler 
lives  in  Sierra  Madre,  California,  near  KTTV's  Mt. 
Wilson  transmitter,  but  so  close  to  an  intervening 
mountain  that  it  casts  a  heavy  "shadow"  and  he 
can't  get  his  own  station. 


Guest    of    honor    at    recent    Hollywood    party: 
Lucille   Ball   of   CBS's   My   Favorite  Husband. 


Giving  the  party  for  Lucille  were  co-hosts  Kee- 
nan  Wynn,  1.,  and  Peter  Lawf  ord,  r.  Beside  Joan 
Evans  is  Desi  Arnaz  (also  above  with  LuciUe) 
who's    Lucille's    real-life    "favorite    husband." 


n 


By 


COAST   to   COAST 


^NTEEH 

*^  M^^K; 

jT- 

w 

^-  ^Ci^-^j^S 

^"Mw, 

i 

'V- 

1 

Lucille's   "program"   husband   is    Richard   Denning, 
above.  Favorite  Husband  is  on  CBS,  Fri.,  8:30  P.M. 


And  Richard  Denning's  real  wife  (this  becomes 
complicated)    was  there  too:   Evelyn   Ankers. 


Actress    June    Havoc    and    producer 
William  Spier  came  to  share  the  fun. 


Louella   Parsons  helped  Lucille  tag 
host  Peter  with  a  "favorite"  sticker. 


Singer    Helen    Forrest    and    husband 
Paul     Hollahan     were     late-comers. 


Frank  Goss,  "Hallmark  Playhouse"  announcer, 
says  he  has  a  couple  of  friends  who've  been  taking 
tales  of  the  rapid  rate  of  Hollywood  weddings  and 
divorces  very  seriously.  Goss  has  been  married 
four  years,  but  on  the  anniversary  of  his  wedding 
this  year,  he  got  a  wedding  present  inscribed,  "It 
looks  as  though  you're  going  to  stay  married,  so 
here's  your  wedding  gift." 

*  *         * 

It's  nice  to  see  that  somebody  got  real  smart  and 
put  Georgia  Gibbs  to  work  as  a  comedienne.  Why 
they  waited  so  long  is  a  mystery,  considering  the 
number  of  times  her  particular  zany  touch  has  en- 
livened the  shows  of  top  laugh  provokers  like 
Danny  Kaye,  Jimmy  Durante,  Herb  Shriner, 
Groucho  Marx  and  Milton  Berle,  just  to  name  a 
few  of  the  stars  with  whom  she's  appeared.  As  far 
as  we're  concerned,  her  acting  on  the  Morey  Am- 
sterdam show  is  a  delight  to  the  ear  and  the  ribs 
and  her  singing,  as  always,  is  but  swell. 

*  *         * 

The  recording  ban  may  (Continued  on  page  11) 


d    DALE  BANKS 


Peter's  parents.  Sir  Peter  and  Lady  Lawford,  got 
a  big  welcome  from  their  son  and  everyone  else. 


The  anemometer    (foreground)   and  weather  map  help  Francis  forecast  local   weather. 


Predicting  the  Onpredicthbie 


R 

M 

10 


When  Francis  K.  Davis  discusses  the  weather 
it's  never  dry.  His  program  includes  human 
interest     items     as     well     as     factual     reports. 


NO  MATTER  WHAT  the  weather,  here's  a  good  day  to  you." 
With  those  words,  Francis  K.  Davis  concludes  three  five- 
minute  weather  programs  every  weekday  on  Radio  Station 
WFIL  in  Philadelphia.  Usually  we  think  of  the  weather- 
man as  the  target  of  a  lot  of  bad  jokes  but  since  Davis  joined 
the  WFIL  staff  in  October  1947  he  has  become  one  of  the  sta- 
tion's most  popular  radio  personalities  and  his  mailbag  is  always 
packed  with  specific  requests. 

"Straight  weather  information  usually  is  dry — even  when 
the  weather  is  wet,"  says  Davis,  so  he  set  about  building  a 
program  that  would  be  packed  with  human  interest  as  well 
as  authoritative  facts.  From  his  own  weather  stations  at  WFIL 
and  his  home  eighteen  miles  away,  from  the  U.  S.  Weather 
Bureau  offices  in  mid-city  and  at  International  Airport,  he 
gathers  his  information.  Human  interest  elements  come  from 
the  library,  the  record  books,  and  the  news  wires. 

Davis  received  his  Bachelor's  degree  in  physics  at  West  Ches- 
ter College  and  his  Master's  degree  in  meteorology  at  the  Mas- 
sachusetts Institute  of  Technology.  Four  years  in  the  Army 
with  Air  Force  weather  squadrons  gave  him  experience  in 
forecasting  in  all  parts  of  the  country  and  he  received  a  spe- 
cial commendation  for  his  forecasting  for  the  B-29  "Dream- 
boat"  flight  from  Tokyo  to  Washington.  His  research  work 
has  been  published  by  the  Army  and  the  American  Meteoro- 
logical Society.  Recently  he  addressed  their  100th  national 
meeting  on  the  meteorologist's  role   in  radio  and  television. 

A  Davis  day  starts  at  4: 30  A.M;,  when  he  leaves  his  wife 
and  three-year-old  son  for  work.  He  stops  at  the  airport 
weather  station  enroute.  After  his  morning  program,  he  goes 
to  Drexel  Institute  of  Technology  where  he  is  assistant  profes- 
sor of  physics..  In  the  afternoon  he  tries  to  work  in  some  post- 
graduate study  at  Temple  University  or  the  University  of 
Pennsylvania  before  preparing  his  evening  programs.  He 
gathers  data  at  the  mid-city  bureau  before  his  7  PM.  show 
and  again  for  his  late  evening  program.   Then  home  and  bed. 

The  WFIL  staff  relies  on  Davis'  predictions  .  .  .  ever  since 
the  summer  of  1948  when  Francis  Davis  went  on  vacation  just 
one  day  before  the  worst  heat  wave  in  Philadelphia  history. 


1 


COAST  to   COAST 

(Continued  from  page  9) 


be  over,  but  for  many  top  recording 
artists  the  ban  was  less  deadly  than 
what  gives  now.  Then,  they  weren't 
recording  because  they'd  agreed  not  to. 
Now  there's  a  wave  of  jitters  among 
platter  stars  due  to  the  way  contracts 
are  being  dropped  on  all  sides.  Colum- 
bia has  dropped  Woody  Herman,  Claude 
Thornhill,  Cab  Calloway  and  Tommy 
Tucker  and  rumor  has  it  that  Decca  and 
RCA- Victor  are  cutting  their  lists,  too. 


No  one  will  ever  be  able  to  explain 
how  Hollywood  works  to  us.  It  seems 
that  recently  a  movie  called  "She"  was 
re-issued  and  box  office  reports  on  the 
oldie  have  been  most  satisfactory, 
which  has  caused  movie  execs  to  start 
scurrying  around  after  Helen  Mack, 
contracts  in  hand.  Helen  starred  in  the 
film  ten  years  ago.  The  thing  we  don't 
understand  is  that  Helen  has  been  in 
and  around  Hollywood  and  Broadway 
all  that  time  and  has  made  quite  a  name 
for  herself  as  a  director  and  producer 
and  actress  in  radio — and  what  were  the 
big  brains  doing  all  that  time? 


It's  likely  that  Jack  Carson  will  be 

another  radio  star  who'll  be  recording 

his  shows  after  his  return  to  Hollywood 

in   mid-March.     He    and    his    company 

recorded  one  show  before  they  started 

out  on  their   10-week  vaudeville  tour 

and,  like  everyone  else  who's  done  it 

that  way,  Carson  was  pleased  with  the 

result. 

*         *         * 

Bits  of  odd  information:  The  Ryman 
Auditorium  in  Nashville,  Tenn.,  from 
which  Grand  Ole  Opry  is  broadcast 
every  Saturday  night,  came  into  being 
as  the  result  of  a  river  boat  captain's 
attendance  at  an  Evangelist  meeting. 
Back  before  the  turn  of  the  century, 
Capt.  Tom  Ryman,  a  wealthy  river 
man  from  St.  Louis,  had  his  soul  "saved" 
at  a  Nashville  tent  meeting.  He  was  so 
impressed  by  the  traveling  preacher, 
the  famous  Sam  Jones,  that  Ryman  con- 
tributed a  large  sum  of  money  to  build 
an  auditorium  for  his  annual  revival 
meetings.  Nashville  citizens  added  to 
(Continued  on  page  15) 


Dirty  work  at  the  canteen:  Beverly 
Wills  takes  what  Barbara  Whiting,  1., 
paid  for.  They're  in  CBS's  Junior  Miss. 


REGULAR  PRICE   504 


Another  Fine  Product  of 
Lever  Brothers  Company 


New  Film-Fighting  Formula  for 
Brightening  Teeth  . . .  Cleaning  Breath! 

Thrillingly  different!  New  film-reirioving  Pepsodent 
foams  wonderfully  —  goes  to  work  faster  removing 
the  film  that  makes  your  teeth  look  dull. 

Moreover,  Pepsodent's  amazing  new  formula  routs 
"bad  breath"  germs  that  lurk  in  film  —  germs  that 
cause  food  particles  to  decay  and  taint  your  breath. 

Try  new  fast-foaming  Pepsodent  with  Irium.  See 
if  it  doesn't  give  you  brighter  teeth;  cleaner,  fresher 
breath.  Hurry !  Act  while  money  -  saving  offer  lastfa ! 


Acf  toddy* 


/ 


Pepsodent's  twin-pack  bargain 

on  sale  March  14,  at  all  drug  counters 


^rlimi1i?d  time  only/ 


11 


By  DURE  ELLINGTON 

Whose  disc-spinning  is  heard  on 
KLX,  Oakland,  Cal.;  WESX,  Sa- 
lem, Mass.;  KING,  Seattle,  Wash. 


12 


ALTHOUGH  Martin  Block,  WNEW's  Make-Believe 
Ballroom  conductor,  wasn't  literally  in  rags  when 
he  started  on  his  way  to  riches,  his  story  is  an 
amazing  and  fantastic  version  of  the  usual  success 
formula.  Just  fourteen  years  ago  two  ten-dollar  bills 
comprised  his  weekly  wage.  Today,  that  wage  is  re- 
ported to  consist  of  approximately  two  one-thousand- 
dollar  notes. 

This  disc  jockey-to-be  arrived  in  New  York  in 
1934  via  California  stations  and  a  sound  truck  stint — 
the  latter  having  given  him  his  first  broadcasting  ex- 
perience. At  that  time,  WNEW  was  only  a  few  months 
old,  and  Block,  who  was  down  to  his  last  few  dollars, 
landed  a  job  with  the  infant  outfit.  His  job  was  to 
play  records  and  announce  the  titles  and  that  was 
about  all.  Then  came  the  Hauptmann  trials.  He  was 
assigned  to  fill  in  with  music  between  the  trial  bulle- 
tins. He  got  one  sponsor,  called  the  program  Make- 
Believe  Ballroom,  and  won  enough  listeners  with  his 
ad  lib  before-and-after  chatter  to  insure  the  success 
of  the  program. 

That  single  sponsor  wasn't  lonely  for  long.  The 
program  now  plays  for  about  two  dozen  paying 
accounts,  and  has  a  long  waiting  list  of  firms  that  are 
eager  to  place  their  money  with  radio's  super-sales- 
man, the  mellifluous  Martin  Block. 

Although  today  Block  is  the  best  known  and  best 
paid  platter  spinner  in  the  business,  the  early  years 
of  his  career  in  radio  were  not  easy  ones.  In  the  be- 
ginning both  recoirding  companies  and  band  leaders 
were  dead  against  the  airing  of  what  they  respective- 
ly termed  "unfair  competition"  and  "self-competi- 
tion." But  time,  and  many  figures  on  the  profit  side  of 
the  ledgers,  convinced  them  that  recorded  programs 
such  as  Make-Believe  Ballroom  had  given  the  ail- 
ing phonograph  and  record  business  a  much-needed 
shot  in  the  arm.  Instead  of  harming  the  bands,  disc 
shows  tended  to  increase  the  popularity  of  the  vari- 
ous orchestras.  Today,  top  flight  band  leaders  grow 
frantic  if  Block  leaves  them  out  of  his  mythical  ball- 
room for  even  a  few  hours,  and,  in  order  to  show  their 
appreciation  to  him  for  using  their  recordings,  these 
same  band  leaders  act  as  guest  directors  of  the  pro- 
gram when  Block  goes  on  vacation. 


Twice  yearly  Block  conducts  a  popularity  contest 
in  order  to  find  out  which  band  rates  highest  in  the 
public's  favor  in  this  area.  He  also  conducts  a  contest 
to  find  out  which  male  and  female  vocalists  have  the 
number  one  spot  on  the  public's  p'opularity  list.  These 
contests  invariably  bring  a  deluge  of  balloting  mail  to 
the  station. 

Martin  celebrates  his  own  birthday  and  the  armi- 
versary  of  the  "Ballroom"  every  year.  On  that  day 
he  surrounds  himself  with  all  of  the  staff  members  of 
the  station,  his  sponsors,  band  leaders  and  radio 
artists,  and  other  friends.  This  celebration  has  become 
part  of  WNEW's  tradition. 

Whether  the  constant  playing  of  melodies  made 
Block  tune-happy,  or  whether  he  was  just  born  with 
music  in  his  make-up,  the  fact  remains  that  he  is 
responsible  for  several  hit  songs,  including  one  jive 
number.  He  is  the  composer  of  "I  Guess  I'll  Have  to 
Dream  the  Rest,"  "Faithful  to  You,"  and  "Flat  Foot 
Floogie." 

There  couldn't  be  better  proof  of  Block's  standing 
in  the  disc  jockey  community  than  this  honor  that 
Radio  Mirror  readers  have  just  bestowed  upon  him — 
naming  him  their  favorite  disc  jockey  in  the  Radio 
Mirror  Awards  for  1948.  The  first  big  disc  spinner  is 
still  going  strong — and  the  rest  of  us  are  glad  to  hear  it! 


Sall'rOOni.  i-(iii!c~  oii.l  (;■;  !i) 


Favorite  Disc  Jockey  in 


le  Radii)  _tiji  '>  r    \^\aL■lli 


I 


Zl 


"Jjcux^vQAiti  DISC  JOCKEY 


■LSelieve  Ballroom  and  Martin  Block  starteil 
•  foT'r'.een  years  ago,  arc  now  practiraHy  in- 


13 


BUFFALO'S 


76-year-old  Dr.  Hodge  has  six  children  and  seven  grandchildren. 
The  three  shown  here  are  Mildred,  10,  Charles,  15,  Roberta,  18. 


R 

a 

14 


H 


Until  recently  Dr.  Hodge  broadcast  five  times  a  week  but  lately 
his  scripts  frequently  are  delivered  by  announcer  Fred  Keller. 


E'S  "the  spirit  of  '76,"  in  age,  undoubtedly  the 
dean  of  America's  radio  commentators  and  one 
of  the  few  radioites  with  three  academic  degrees. 

That,  as  almost  any  Buffalo-area  listener  will  tell 
you,  would  be  the  bearded  sage  of  WBEN — Dr.  Fred- 
erick A.  Hodge,  whose  quarter-hour  of  pertinent  news 
comment,  Reading  Between  the  Lines,  follows  the 
noon  news  bulletins  Mondays  through  Fridays.  He 
selects  one  subject — history,  background,  late  news, 
possible  strategy — and  discusses  it  thoroughly. 

He  may  talk  about  the  United  Nations  when  it's  in 
session  or  discuss  something  like  the  significance  of 
the  life  and  sudden  death  of  Gandhi.  The  scope  of  his 
program  and  its  appeal  may  be  measured  by  the 
success  of  a  recent  talk  on  the  Bible  as  "a  good  book 
to  live  by,"  which  brought  numerous  requests  for 
copies  of  the  broadcast.  In  addition,  there  were  so 
many  phone  calls  that  it  was  repeated  a  month  later 
and  another  repeat  may  be  forthcoming. 

Dr.  Hodge  was  born  in  Bridgeport,  Conn.  He  re- 
ceived his  A.B.  from  Virginia  Christian  College, 
Lynchburg,  Va.,  and  his  M.A.  and  Ph.D.  from  the 
University  of  Virginia.  While  obtaining  the  latter 
degree,  he  also  was  a  faculty  member  there.  Later 
he  taught  at  the  Farmville,  Va.  Normal  School  and 
then  at  Winthrop  College  in  South  Carolina,  where 
he  was  professor  of  psychology  and  education.  He 
also  was  assistant  director  of  the  University  of  Vir- 
ginia Summer  School.  During  World  War  I  he  entered 
the  chemical  engineering  field  with  the  duPont  Co. 

He  continued  as  a  chemical  and  mechanical  engi- 
neer in  Pittsburgh  and  New  York  City  before  coming 
to  Buffalo  in  1935,  where  he  planned  to  retire  and  live 
near  a  son  and  daughter  in  the  area.  "But  the  thought 
of  retiring  made  me  ill-at-ease,"  said  the  doctor,  so  he 
became  supervisor  of  teacher  training  for  Biifialo's 
Adult  Educational  Program. 

At  that  time  he  was  invited  by  WBEN  to  broadcast 
a  series  of  six  talks  analyzing  Adolf  Hitler's  Mein 
Kampf.  The  series  attracted  such  wide  attention  that 
a  radio  career  was  born — at  the  age  of  63.  Until  re- 
cently Dr.  Hodge  broadcast  five  times  a  week,  but 
lately  he  has  been  preparing  the  scripts  for  delivery 
by  WBEN's  versatile  announcer-producer,  Fred  Kel- 
ler, and  only  occasionally  does  the  doctor  broadcast. 

He  is  an  avid  reader  of  news  magazines,  historical 
books  and  newspapers  and  does  his  best  writing  at 
night  and  in  bed.  His  hobby  is  chemi-culture  of  plants 
and  his  favorite  amusement  in  playing  with  his  grand- 
children. One  thing  he  would  like  to  see  in  radio  is  a 
spirit  of  optimism  in  daytime  dramas  in  place  of  what 
he  calls  "hysterical  sob  stuff." 

His  favorite  joke  on  himself  occurred  when  a 
three-year-old  spotted  him  on  a  bus  and  shouted  to 
his  mother,  "Look — Santa  Claus!" 

He  sums  up  his  philosophy  of  life  by  his  favorite 
motto:  "Keep  an  open  mind." 


COAST  to   COAST 

(Continued  from  page  11) 


his  contribution  and  the  result  was  an 
auditorium  for  public  use  in  religious 
and  educational  meetings  and  for  en- 
tertainment— and,  while  the  Grand  Ole 
Opry  show  comes  under  the  heading 
of  entertainment,  the  Ryman  is  still 
used  for  its  original  purposes,  too. 

*  *         * 

We're  thinking  that  one  of  the  ways 
to  make  history  an  interesting  subject 
for  youngsters  would  be  to  get  them  the 
new  Columbia  album,  "I  Can  Hear  It 
Now,"  the  records  which  contain  some 
of  the  actual,  on  the  spot  sounds  and 
words  of  the  most  important  events  in 
the  world's  recent  history.  They  can 
hear  the  actual  surrender  of  the  French 
at  Compiegne  in  World  War  II  and  the 
marching  feet  of  Hitler's  Storm  Troop- 
ers, as  well  as  many  other  vital  and 
chilling  things.  The  album  was  pre- 
pared by  Edward  R.  Murrow  with  the 
assistance  of  Fred  W.  Friendly,  former 
combat  correspondent. 

*  *         * 

Any  day  now  you're  liable  to  find 
your  dentist's  chair  wired  for  sound — 
soothing  sound  for  you.  And  you  have 
Al  Span,  CBS's  Hollywood  sound  effects 
chief  to  thank.  Al  was  sitting  in  the 
dentist's  chair  when  a  trolley  car 
passed  along  the  street  and  Al  noticed 
that  for  the  brief  instant  that  the  car's 
passing  drowned  out  the  whine  of  the 
drill,  he  felt  less  pain.  In  a  few  days, 
he  had  translated  his  mind-over-clatter 
discovery  into  a  new  device,  a  speaker 
which  attaches  to  the  headrest  on  the 
dentist's  chair  and  bone  conducts  music 
through  the  patient's  jaw.  The  dentist 
pipes  in  the  patient's  favorite  kind  of 
music  by  record  or  radio,  adjusts  the 
volume  just  loud  enough  to  cover  the 
sound  of  his  drilling,  and  immeasurably 
improves  his  reputation. 

*  *         * 

From  all  over  the  country,  teachers 
are  writing  in  their  approval  of  Our 
Miss  Brooks,  which  presents  a  school- 
teacher as  a  modern,  clever,  capable 
and  attractive  person.  The  teachers 
feel  that  this  kind  of  show  will  tend 
to  encourage  the  right  kind  of  young 
people  to  choose  teaching  as  a  career. 

The  late  Tom  Breneman's  restaurant 
has  been  given  a  new  name — in  case 
you  ever  try  to  find  it  out  in  Hollywood 
— The  Empire  Room.  But  the  edifice 
housing  the  eatery  will  still  be  known 
as  the  Breneman  Building. 

*  *         * 

GOSSIP  FROM  ALL  OVER  .  .  .  Bob 
Hope  is  bidding  for  a  radio  station  all 
his  own.  .  .  .  Gabriel  Heatter  has  signed 
a  five  year  contract  with  Mutual  cover- 
ing video  and  movies  as  well  as  radio. 
.  .  .  Bill  Virdier,  until  recently  an  NBC 
sound  effects  man,  has  been  promoted 
to  a  producer  handling  several  of  NBC's 
Hollywood  shows.  .  .  .  Jesse  Lasky  and 
Jack  Bailey  have  reached  the  contract 
stage  in  their  talks  about  making  a 
movie  of  the  Queen  For  A  Day  stanza. 
.  .  .  Alan  Young  slated  for  star  billing 
in  his  next  movie  for  20th  Century-Fox, 
because  of  rave  notices  for  his  per- 
formances in  "Chicken  Every  Sunday" 
and  "Mr.  Belvedere  Goes  to  College." 
.  .  .  Jimmy  Durante  is  off  to  England 
this  summer,  headed  for  London's 
famed  Palladium  in  July  .  .  .  and  Spring 
is  in  the  air. 


Men  never  got  serious  about  me. 

One  date,  or  two— but  nothing  more. 
I  couldn't  understand  it  'til  I  read  Gail 
Russell's  words:  "A  man  wants  his 
special  girl  to  be  feminine .  . .  wants 
her  hands  to  be  soft  and  romantic." 
The  magazine  said  Gail  Russell  uses 
Jergens  Lotion  on  her  hands,  so  — 

I  decided  to  try  Jergens  tool 


What  a  difference!  My  hands  felt 
smoother,  looked  lovelier  overnight.  And 
soon,  Bill  noticed!  "Such  beautiful  hands!" 
he  said.  And  tonight  he  told  me  so  again 
. . .  when  he  slipped  his  ring  on  my  finger! 

Your  own  hands  can  be  so  much  lovelier- 
softer,  smoother— with  today's  finer  Jergens 
Lotion.  Because  it's  a  liquid,  Jergens 
quickly  furnishes  the  softening 
moisture  thirsty  skin  needs. 
And  no  stickiness!  Still  onl)' 
10«;'  to  $1.00  plus  tax.  ^ 


Hollywood  Stars  Use  Jergens  Lotion  7  to  1 
Over  Any  Other  Hand  Care 

Used  by  more  Women  than  any  other  Hand  Care  in  the  World! 


15 


Your  loveliness 
is  Doubly  Safe 


16 


^feto  gives  you 
Double  Protection! 

(S<>  '€^Jfsctc</C/ .  .  .  Veto  guards  your 
loveliness  night  and  day — safely  protects 
your  clothes  and  you.  For  Veto  not  only 
neutralizes  perspiration  odor,  it  checks  per- 
spiration, too !  Yes,  Veto  gives  you  Double 
Protection !  And  Veto  disappears  instantly  to 
protect  you  from  the  moment  you  apply  it! 

Qj(y ^^'ft/(<^ .  .  .  Always  creamy  and 
smooth.  Veto  is  lovely  to  use  and  keeps  you 
lovely.  And  Veto  is  gentle,  safe  for  normal 
skin,  safe  for  clothes.  Doubly  Safe!  Veto 
alone  contains  Duratex,  Colgate's  exclusive 
ingredient  to  make  Veto  safer.  Let  Veto 
give   your   loveliness   double   protection! 

Veto  iastH  and  iasta 

from  hath  to  hath  I 


Step  Up  And  Ask  Your  Questions — We'll  Try  To  Find  The  Answers 


FOR  YOUR  INFORMATION— If  there's 
something  you  want  to  know  about  radio, 
write  to  Information  Booth,  Radio  Mir- 
ror, 205  E.  42nd  St.,  N.  Y.  We'll  answer  in  In- 
formation Booth  or  by  mail.  Be  sure  to  sign 
name  and  address,  and  attach  this  box  to 
your  letter. 


tew  Valentine 


THREE  DR.  I.  Q.s 

Dear  Editor: 

Can  you  tell  me 
how  many  different 
people  have  been 
Dr.  I.  Q.?  Which 
one  is  on  the  air 
now? 

Mrs.  L.  L.  T. 
York,  Pa. 

Altogether,  there 
have  been  three  Dr. 
I.Qs.  The  first  was  Lew  Valentine  who  was 
with  the  program  when  it  started  in  1939. 
When  World  War  II  began  he  enlisted,  and 
Jimmy  McClain  replaced  him.  In  1946 
McClain  left  to  join  the  ministry  and 
Valentine  resumed  his  original  role.  He 
stayed  only  a  few  months,  leaving  to  take 
a  job  in  an  advertising  agency.  Then, 
Stanley  Vainrib  took  the  role  but  re- 
mained only  four  months.  Valentine  again 
returned,  and,  at  this  writing,  he  is  the 
Dr.  I.  Q.  you  hear  every  Monday  night  on 
NBC  stations. 


MINNEAPOLIS-BORN 

Dear  Editor: 

Will  you  please 
tell  me  where  the 
Andrews  Sisters 
were  born?  They 
are  my  favorite 
singers.  If  possible, 
couldn't  you  print  a 
picture  of  one  of 
the  girls? 

J.  B. 
Palmyra,  Illinois. 

The  Andrews  Sisters — Maxcne,  La  Verne, 
and  Patty — were  born  and  raised  in  Minne- 
apolis, Minnesota.  And  here's  La  Verne, 
the  oldest  of  the  three. 

QUIET  PLEASE  THEME 

Dear  Editor: 

I  would  appreci- 
ate your  telling  me 
the  name  of  the  mu- 
sic played  on  Sun- 
day night's  Quiet 
Please.  It's  vaguely 
familiar. 

Mrs.  S.  B. 
Pawtucket,  R.  I. 
//  you've  ever  lis- 
tened to  Cesar  Franck's  Symphony  in  D 
Minor  you'll  recognize  the  Quiet  Please 
theme  as  an  excerpt  from  the  second  move- 
ment. And  here's  Ernest  Chapel  who  so 
skillfully  narrates  the  unusual  stories  on 
this  ABC  program  which  is  broadcast  on 
Sundays  at  5:30  P.M.,  EST. 


La  Verne  Andrews 


Ernest  Chapel 


Jeanine  Roose 


LITTLE  ALICE 

Dear   Editor: 

We're  in  a  quan- 
dary as  to  whether 
or  not  the  two  chil- 
dren portrayed  on 
the  Phil  Harris- 
Alice  Faye  show  are 
actually  Phil  and 
Alice's  children  or 
whether  they  are  ac- 
tresses. 

Miss  G.  S. 

Davenport,   Iowa 
Little  Alice   and   Phyllis  are  played   by 

two  young  professional  actresses:  Alice  is 

played   by  Jeanine   Roose,   and   Phyllis   is 

played  by  Anne  Whitfield. 

WHO'S  WHO 

Dear  Editor: 

Please  tell  me 
who  plays  the  fol- 
lowing roles  on 
Junior  Miss:  Mr. 
Graves,  Mrs.  Graves, 
and  Hilda. 

M.  E.  S. 
Amherst,  Virginia 

Mr.    Graves    is 
played  by  Gale  Gor- 
by    Sarah    Selby,    and 
Hilda  is  played  by  Myra  Marsh. 

NO   REUNION 

Dear  Editor: 

Can  you  tell  me 
what  station  Eddy 
Arnold's  radio  show 
called  Home  Town 
Reunion  is  on?  I 
have  tried  unsuc- 
cessfully for  the 
past  three  Saturday 
nights  but  to  no 
avail.  Secondly,  can 


Myra  Marsh 

don,    Mrs.    Graves 


Eddy  Arnold 


you  tell  me  what  the  Ink  Spots  are  doing 
and  where  they  are  now? 

Miss  M.  M.  S. 
Plymouth,  Pa. 

We  are  sorry  to  tell  you  that  Hometown 
Reunion,  formerly  heard  on  CBS,  is  no 
longer  on  the  air.  As  for  the  Ink  Spots, 
they  are  on  a  tour  of  personal  appearances. 
At  this  writing,  they  are  a  featured  attrac- 
tion at  the  Capitol  Theater  in  New  York. 

NEW  CHICHI 

Dear   Editor : 

Who  is  the  new 
Chichi  on  Life  Can 
be  Beautiful  and 
why  did  Alice  Rein- 
heart  leave? 

Miss  S.  T. 
New  York,  N.  Y. 

Pretty  Teri  Keane 
replaced  Alice 
Reinheart  when 
Alice  left  Life  Can  Be  Beautiful  to  take  a 
featured  role  in  a  Broadway  play. 


Teri  Keane 


LOOK 


AT  THE 

RECORDS 

DANCING  OR  LISTENING 

BERYL  DAVIS  (RCA  Victor)— 
The  British  Songstress,  who  recently 
married  disc  jockey  Peter  Potter, 
sounds  fine  on  the  Camarata-Russell 
ballad  "No  More,"  with  Camarata 
supplying  the  orchestral  backing. 
"If  I  Had  A  Penny"  with  the  Russ 
Case  orchestra  is  almost  as  good. 

JOHNNY  MERCER— PIED  PIP- 
ERS (Capitol)— If  by  this  time 
you've  been  hearing  people  say 
"eYah,  eYah,  eYah,"  you  can  blame 
it  all  on  a  Mercer  record  called 
"Would  Ya?" — it's  a  cute-as-a-but- 
ton  version.  "Let's  Fly"  is  a  let's-get- 
away-from-it-all  type  of  song  that 
suffers  from  comparison  with  the 
first  side. 

SY  OLIVER  (MGM)— There  are 
many  who  will  agree  that  it  was  Sy's 
orchestral  arranging  that  accounted 
for  the  greatness  of  such  bands  as 
Jimmy  Lunceford's  and  Tommy 
Dorsey's.  Here,  Sy  takes  a  jumpy 
melody  written  by  Billy  Kyle  and 
George  Duvivier  and  makes  it  into 
a  great  instrumental.  It's  called 
"Four  To  Go."  Tommy  Roberts  does 
an  excellent  vocal  job  on  "Sad  Sad 
Story  Blues." 

STAN  KENTON  (Capitol)— June 
Christy  is  featured  on  the  novelty 
"He  Was  A  Good  Man  As  Good  Men 
Go,"  while  Eddie  Safranski  is  fea- 
tured on  bass  along  with  Stan  pian- 
istics  on  "How  Am  I  To  Know."  We 
prefer  the  latter — a  less  frantic  Ken- 
ton arrangement. 

ILLINOIS  JACQUET  (RCA  Vic- 
tor )  — Mr.  Jacquet  follows  his  recent 
pattern  by  dedicating  one  of  the 
sides  to  a  disc  jockey.  The  Detroit 
platter  spinner  gets  the  nod  on  "A 
Jacquet  For  Jack  The  Bellboy." 
"Embryo"  features  the  usual  tenor 
sax  solo. 


ALBUM  ARTISTRY 

LATIN  RHYTHMS  (London)  — 
Stanley  Black  and  His  Concert  Or- 
chestra. The  London  full  range 
recording  technique  stands  out  on 
"Linda  Chilena,"  "Rhumba-Tam- 
bah,"  "Adios,"  "La  Mulata  Rhum- 
bera,"  "Canto  De  Ausencia"  and 
"A  Media  Luz." 

FLICK,  THE  LITTLE  FIRE  EN- 
GINE (MGM)— A  wonderful  story 
for  children  is  excellently  narrated 
by  Robert  Dann.  Greta  Holm  sup- 
plied music  for  Bert  Reisfeld  story. 


By  JOE  MARTIN 


Ho  oiher  lip^cL . . 
has  ihese  Exdusm  features 

"l^THREE  SHADES...  keyed  to  your  individual  coloring. 

"lA'LASTS  LONGER. ..actuallystaysbeautifuIuntilyoutakeitofF. 
"A" NON- DRYING.,  .keeps  your  lips  moist  and  lovely. 

"A"  SUPER-FINE  TEXTURE...  means  smoother  application. 


SY 


af 


;V\\^S^ 


ELIZABETH  TAYLOR 

Co-starring  in 
Metro -Goldwyn- Mayer's 

"LITTLE  WOMEN" 


i 


blue 


Vourreaw.th;^^^^,,for 


cast 
matcbvi'g, 


sultry,  g 


iUULy,o-        changes 
na  costume  cbar^g 


Your  red,  but  on    f 
the  pink  side...  for   1 
your  delicately  fem- 
inine moods  and     , 
costume  colors.  S 


U 


Bsfc-,- 


U.  S.  Patents 

No. 2  157667 

22 1 1465 


3  shades  for  your  coloring 


...choose  your  favorite  red... or  have  al\  three  for  costume  changes 
BLONDES  BRUNETTES        BROWNETTES  REDHEADS 


CLEAR  RED  No.  1 
BLUE  RED  No.  1 
ROSE  RED  No.  1 


CLEAR  RED  No.  3 
BLUE  RED  No.  3 
ROSE  RED  No.  3 


CLEAR  RED  No.  2 
BLUE  RED  No.  2 
ROSE  RED  No.  2 


CLEAR  RED  No.  1 
BLUE  RED  No.  1 
ROSE  RED  No.  1 


IF  HAIR  IS  GRAY,  USE  FORMER  HAIR  COLORING  AS  GUIDE 

dxFaetbr^  Hollywood 


17 


Flavor 

makes  all  the  difference 
in  the  world ! 


\ 


A 


Gif^J 


'k 


V 


cnfnd  there's  one  thing  you  can  al- 
ways depend  upon. ..the  consistent- 
ly high  quality  and  fine  flavor  of 

Beech-Nut 
GUM 


R 

M 

18 


What  makes  YOU  tick? 


John  McCaffery,  who  asks  the  questions 
on  What  Makes  You  Tick?  (CBS,  2:45 
P.M.  EST,  daily)  has  prepared  a  special 
set  of  questions  for  Radio  Mirror  read- 
ers, designed  to  help  you  (and  your 
friends  and  family,  unless  you  manage 
to  evade  them)  find  out  more  about 
yourself.  When  you've  added  up  your 
score  (and  if  you  cheat,  that  tells  some- 
thing about  you,  too!)  you'll  have  the 
answer  to  the  question:  "How  Adven- 
turesome Are  You?" 


Yes   No 

1.  Do    you    like    to    try    strange    and 

exo^ic  foods?  Q      D 

2.  Hove  you  ever  been  tempted  to 
throw  on  egg   into  an  electric  fan 

just   to    see    what   would    happen?      O      □ 

3.  Have  you  ever  put  your  finger  all 
the  way  up  the  coin  return  slot  in 
a   pay  telephone   just  to  see  what 

was   up   there?  □      □ 

4.  Do  you  like  blind  dates?  D      D 

5.  Did    you    ever    try   to    pick    up    a 

girl?   (or  fellow?)  D      D 

6.  Have  you  ever  tested  yourself  on 
your  capacity  for  beer,  water- 
melon,    ice     cream     sodas,     etc.?      □      □ 

7.  Have  you  ever  pelted  anyone  with 
a  snowball  during  your  adult- 
hood? n     D 

8.  Do  you  make  a  habit  of  exceeding 

the   speed    limit   when   you    drive?      □      □ 

9.  Do     you     like    to     play     practical 

jokes?  D      D 

10.  Do  you  (or  did  you)  look  for- 
ward   to    parenthood?  □      □ 


Give  yourself  10  points  for  every  "yes" 
answer.  80  points  or  more  indicates  an  ex- 
tremely adventuresome  spirit  and  chances 
are  that  as  you  look  back  over  your  life, 
this  penchant  for  the  untried  and  the 
unknown  has  caused  you  more  than  one 
embarrassing  moment.  40  to  70  points 
indicates  a  more  or  less  normal  outlook 
toward  adventure,  ^vhile  30  points  or  less 
might  indicate  that  you  are  missing  a 
lot  in  life  by  not  ''letting  yourself  go" 
occasionally. 


By  Mary  Jane  Fulton 


PAT  BARNARD  and  Burt  Hilber  thought  their  being  in  love  was  a  deep 
secret.  AH  winter  they  had  been  trying  to  avoid  casting  fond  glances  at 
each  other  during  rehearsals  and  broadcasts  of  Adelaide  Hawley's  Fashions 
on  Parade  TV  program,  on  which  Pat  is  a  model,  and  Burt  the  singing  lead. 
So  when  we  pounced  on  them  for  our  how-to-look-on-a-date  story,  they 
were  surprised.  But  they  happily  admitted  that  they  plan  to  be  married  soon. 
And  they  didn't  mind  a  bit  being  "shot"  at  New  York's  famous  Versailles  Res- 
taurant, where  other  young  folks  go  on  very  special  dates. 


Wrong:  Though  they're  engaged,  Pat 
and  Burt  would  never  think  of  pre- 
senting a  picture  like  this  to  the 
public  gaze.  Demonstrations  of  af- 
fection in  public,  they  both  agree, 
are     definitely     in     the     worst     taste. 


Right:  In  moderation.  It's  permis- 
sible for  a  girl  to  do  a  small  amount 
of  face-lifting  in  public — particularly 
if  she  keeps  her  puffs  spotlessly 
clean.  But  remember  .  . .  don't  overdo ! 


Wrong:  Not  every  pretty  girl  acts 
pretty.  But  Pat  does.  She  put  her 
elbows  on  the  table  for  this  picture 
only;  normally,  she  lifts  her  cup  to 
drink,   then    returns   it   to    its    saucer. 


Right:  No  fumbling  around  in  Pat's 
purse.  All  equipment  is  "filed"  to 
be  easily  accessible.  She  cleans  purses 
weekly  so  there's  no  odd-and-end  ac- 
cumulation.   Burt  approves  daintiness! 


Wrong:  Tabling  an  elbow  isn't  the 
only  way  to  spoil  a  date.  Talking 
with  mouth  full,  waving  utensils, 
smearing  lipstick  on  cup  or  napkin — 
Burt  says  that's  not  the  way  to  have 
happy  dates   or  have   many   of   them! 


RADIO     MIRROR     for     BETTER     LIVING 


NEW,  LONGER 

LIPSTICK 


&■ 


:.  .v//f^ 


For  the  beautifully  shaped 
lips  men  admire,  try  softer, 
smoother  Irresistible  Lip- 
stick in  the  neiv  long  "make- 
up-artist" case  of  mock-gold 
metal.  WHIP-TEXT  to  stay 
on  longer  .  . .  smoother. 


Put  a  love  song 
in  his  heart! 
Tonight,  use    • 

IRRESISTIBLE 
PERFUME 

10c  and  25c  sizes 


19 


MJ^up? 


"Colgate  Deutal  Cream's  a.c\.iye penetrating 
foam  gets  into  hidden  crevices  between  teeth 
— helps  clean  out  decaying  food  particles — 
stop  stagnant  saliva  odors — remove  the  cause 
of  much  bad  breath.  And  Colgate's  soft  pol- 
ishing agent  cleans  enamel  thoroughly, 
gently  and  safely!" 


LATER-Thanks  to  Colgate  Dental  Cream 


R 

M 

20 


Aiwoys  use 

C016ATE  DENTAL  CREAM 

after  you  eat  and  before  every  date 


By   TOMMY   BARTLETT 


Rena  Rosso-Bishop  told  M.C.  Tommy  Bartlett  how  she  risked  her 
life  to  help  Allied  troops  in  Italy  during  the  war,  on  ABC's 
Welcome  Travelers  (heard  Monday  through  Friday  at  noon,  EST). 


OUR  traveler  of  the  month  is  a  mod- 
ern heroine  whom  this  nation,  as 
a  reward  for  her  valor,  has  made  a 
guest  of  America.  And  when  you  learn 
how  Rena  Rosso-Bishop  personally 
saved  the  lives  of  thousands  of  Allied 
soldiers  in  Italy  during  the  war,  and 
became  a  key  link  in  Allied  Intelli- 
gence, I  think  you'll  agree  that  she's  a 
most  Welcome  Traveler  to  our  thankful 
shores. 

Rena  Rosso-Bishop  is  forty-five  years 
old,  a  simple  seamstress  from  a  farming 
town  near  Turin,  in  Northern  Italy. 
Just  another  person  caught  up  in  the 
chaos  of  war,  you  might  think  at  first. 
But  as  I  chatted  with  Mrs.  Bishop  at 
our  Welcome  Travelers  party  at  the 
College  Inn  of  the  Hotel  Sherman  in 
Chicago,  I  realized  that  she  wasn't  just 
another  person  but  a  very  unique  per- 
son who,  with  quiet  courage,  had  helped 
to  control  and  change  those  war  tides. 

And  in  the  United  States,  England  and 
Canada,  there  are  many  young  men 
who  owe  their  safe  return  from  Italy  to 
this  unpretentious  seamstress  who 
didn't  give  them  away  under  the  horror 
of  a  German  torture  chamber  or  the 
menace  of  a  Nazi  firing  squad. 

But  let's  start  this  strange  story  at 
its  beginning.  As  a  young  Italian  travel- 
ing in  England  after  the  last  war,  Rena 
Rosso  had  met  and  married  an  Amer- 
ican named  Bishop.  There  was  one 
daughter,  Betty.    Eventually,  the  mar- 


riage had  ended  unhappily,  and  Rena, 
now  calling  herself  Rosso-Bishop,  re- 
turned to  the  little  farm  village  near 
Turin.  The  end  of  her  marriage  also 
meant  the  end  of  the  American  citizen- 
ship she  had  gained  with  the  marriage 
vows,  but  it  didn't  end  her  love  for  this 
country.   As  she  said: 

"I  always  have  loved  America,  and 
felt  very  close  toward  all  of  your 
people.  But  1  never  thought  then  the 
time  would  come  when  I  could  prove 
my  friendship." 

That  time  came,  all  right,  with  the 
war.  If  you  recall  those  days,  the  sur- 
render of  Italy  led  to  a  very  strange 
situation  inside  that  unhappy,  Fascist- 
ridden  land.  Thousands  of  Allied  troops, 
who  had  been  Italian  prisoners,  sud- 
denly were  freed.  Very  often  though, 
these  newly-liberated  young  men  were 
in  greater  peril  than  they  had  been 
while  in  prison  camps.  For,  suddenly 
they  were  walking  through  German- 
held  territory,  ducking  Nazi  patrols 
and  trying  to  make  their  way  to  the 
Allied  lines.  These  were  strange, 
cynical  days  for  many  of  the  people  of 
Italy.  Some,  who  still  thought  the  Ger- 
mans might  yet  win,  turned  these  men 
over  to  the  Nazis.  Others,  like  Mrs. 
Rosso-Bishop,  tried  to  protect  them. 

When  Mrs.  Rosso-Bishop  heard  that 
there  were  Allied  soldiers  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, she  went  out  looking  for  them. 
She  found  groups  of  two,  three,  four — 


finally,  ten.  She  took  them  to  her  home, 
fed  them  from  her  own  inadequate 
rations,  doctored  them  and,  later  at 
night,  passed  them  on  their  way  to  the 
Allied  lines.  This  was  the  beginning  of 
a  long  saga  of  heroism. 

But  if  Mrs.  Rosso-Bishop  was  a  hero- 
ine, she  also  was  a  mother.  Almost  at 
once,  she  sent  word  to  her  daughter  in 
Turin  and  warned  her  not  to  come  see 
her  mother  under  any  circumstances. 
The  woman  knew  that  she  was  begin- 
ning a  dangerous  adventure,  with  death 
a  likelihood  at  any  moment,  and  she 
wanted  to  keep  her  daughter  from  be- 
coming involved. 

And  that's  how  it  was  for  the  rest  of 
the  war — a  woman  alone,  outwardly  a 
seamstress  and  farmer,  foraging  for 
enough  to  eat.  A  woman  alone,  but  in- 
side her  small  house,  or  in  the  woods 
beyond,  were  the  tough  Allied  fighting 
men  who  depended  upon  her  for  their 
lives. 

In  1944,  the  Allies  started  dropping 
their  parachute  intelligence  teams  into 
Northern  Italy.  One  night,  standing 
at  her  front  door,  Mrs.  Rosso-Bishop 
saw  the  billowing  chutes  float  down. 
Again,  she  felt  her  duty.  Though  this 
was  even  more  dangerous  than  shelter- 
ing a  ragged  band  of  freed  ex-prisoners, 
she  ran  through  the  fields  and  collected 
the  confused  parachutists.  Because  she 
spoke  English,  it  was  easy  to  explain  to 
these  boys  that  she  was  their  friend, 
and  offered  them  aid.  She  took  them  to 
her  home,  gave  them  food,  agreed  to 
keep  them  in  the  house  by  day,  so  they 
could  slip  through  the  countryside  by 
night. 

When  the  first  band  of  parachutists 
returned  to  headquarters,  they  reported 
that  there  was  a  woman,  Mrs.  Rosso- 
Bishop,  living  right  smack  in  the  enemy 
territory  who  could  be  trusted.  Wave 
after  wave  of  British  and  American 
secret  agents  followed.  All  were  pro- 
tected, sped  on  their  dangerous  way. 

One  night,  a  British  intelligence  man 
stopped  to  thank  his  benefactress.  And 
she  said  this  to  him: 

"Any  way  I  can  help  will  please  me. 
Use  me  or  my  home  as  you  will.  I 
really  want  to  help." 

This,  too,  was  passed  back  to  Head- 
quarters. At  this  time,  top  British  offi- 
cials were  looking  around  for  some 
secret  headquarters  for  a  cloak-and- 
dagger  mission  inside  German  lines. 
Mrs.  Rosso-Bishop's  home  was  the  best 
bet.  The  message  went  to  her.  She 
agreed.  Thus,  a  few  days  later,  the 
mission  parachuted  to  her  home — a 
pink-cheeked  but  stern  young  Major 
not  long  out  of  Oxford,  a  clandestine 
radio  crew,  experts  on  Italy  who  would 
get  in  touch  with  the  partisans,  experts 
on  Germany  who  would  infiltrate  the 
Nazi  ranks.  This  was  a  major  espion- 
age operation,  one  of  the  most  impor- 
tant in  Northern  Italy.  It  was  success- 
ful, too,  and  because  of  that,  thousands 
of  American  and  British  lives  were 
saved.  (Continued  on  page  22) 


Make  fragrance  a  part  of  you  . . 

Never,  never  face  your  world  without  your  perfume  .  .  .  make 
use  of  its  magic  and  power  every  hour,  every  day.  Remember, 
daytimes,  evenings  and  always.  Evening  in  Paris  perfume 
is  enchanting  .  .  .  and  you're  a  thousand  times  more 
fascinating  when  you  wear  it! 


SCENT  SECRET:  Wherever  you  go,  let  perfume 
set  the  scene.  Touch  the  temples,  wrists,  bend 
of  the  elbow,  nape  of  the  neck  with  fragrance. 

GIFT  SECRET  FOR  MEN:  The  most  gracious  and 
acceptable  gift  you  can  give  is  Evening  in  Paris. 


BOURJOIS 


Perfume  .  .  .  75«S  to  $12.50 
Eau  de  Cologne  65^  to  $1.50 
Face  Powder $1.00 


AU  Prices  Plus  Tax 


R 

M 

21 


Are  you  in  the  know  ? 


What  would  you  do  in  this  situation? 

n  Smile  and  switch  O  Keep  on  dancing  □  Play  deaf 


You're  swaying  on  a  dream-cloud  .  .  .  and 
HeathclifF's  tagged  by  a  stag.  Sharp  gals  never 
refuse  a  cut-in ;  thus  you  switch  to  the 
lethal  lad.  When  your  calendar  tries  to  cut 
in  on  your  bookings  — switch  to  the  comfort 
of  the  new  Kotex.  Talk  about  a  dream-cloud! 


Kotex  has  softness  that  holds  its  shape  for 
hours!  Dance  after  dance,  you  stay  com- 
fortable—because Kotex  is  made  to  stay  soft 
while  you  wear  it.  What's  more,  your  new 
Kotex  Sanitary  Belt's  all-elastic,  adjustable, 
smooth-fitting.  Doesn't  bind  when  you  bend ! 


What's  the  best  makeup  remover?        For  the  lowdown  on  that  N.  M.  I.T. 


I    I  Soap  and  water 
I    I   Cold  cream 
I    I   Smooching 

Avast  there,  matey!  First  slip  makeup  off 
with  cream,  wiping  away  with  Kleenex  Tis- 
sues. Then  wash  your  face.  It  takes  cream 
to  "fight"  cream  (such  as  most  makeup 
bases  are  made  of),  and  followed  by  soap 
and  water,  it  helps  keep  blackheads  at  bay. 
Remove  problem-day  worries,  too  .  .  .  with 
the  aid  of  Kotex'and  that  safety  center.  An 
exclusive  Kotex  feature  that  gives  you  extra 
protection,  self-assurance !  All  3  absorbencies 
of  Kotex  have  it . . .  Regular,  Junior  and  Super. 


I    I   Read  his  palm 
I    I   Pry  into  his  past 
I    I   Ask  your  brother 

Before  dating  a  New  Man  In  Town,  owl  up 
on  his  character.  Tea  leaves  or  palmistry 
won't  tell  you,  but  you  can  depend  on  (guess 
who!)— your  brother.  Guys  can  size  up 
guys,  shrewdly.  So  ask  your  bro's  advice 
about  the  mystery  boy.  As  for  girls,  there 
are  times  when  personal  secrets  must  be 
kept.  Then,  depend  on  Kotex  — ior  Kotex 
prevents  revealing  outlines.  Those  special, 
fiat  pressed  ends  of  Kotex  don't  show,  don't 
tell  —  keep  your  secret  confidential ! 


R 
M 

22 


/Pfc?/'<^  ivo/rje/7  c/?oose  /COTEX 
/^a^  a//  of/?er  sa/7/Yary  ^a/?^/hs 

3  ABSORBBNCtESi  RE&UCAK.  JUA/tOH,  SUfER. 


TRAVELER  OF  THE  MONTH 

(Continued  from  page  21) 

Mrs.  Rosso-Bishop,  the  seamstress, 
didn't  Itnow  much  about  higher  mili- 
tary strategy,  or  the  significance  of  in- 
telligence reports.  She  knew,  though, 
that  these  men  had  to  eat,  so  she  spent 
her  days  finding  food  for  them.  She 
knew,  also  that  they  mustn't  be  caught, 
so  she  sent  them  to  the  woods  each 
night  and  remained  alone  in  the  little 
home  to  meet  the  German  patrol. 

The  Nazis,  however,  were  closing  in. 
They  knew  that  a  clandestine  radio  was 
operating  from  somewhere  near  her 
home.  Methodically,  they  began  round- 
ing up  all  persons  who  even  remotely 
might  be  suspect.  Mrs.  Rosso-Bishop 
was  fair  game  because  it  was  known 
that  she  spoke  English,  and  the  village 
Quislings  had  passed  along  reports  that 
she  always  spoke  well  of  America. 

After  preliminary  questioning,  the 
Germans  got  tough.  Mrs.  Rosso- 
Bishop  was  locked  in  a  foul-smelling 
room  without  food  or  water.  She  still 
was  silent.  One  morning,  she  was 
marched  to  a  stone  wall  and  a  rifle 
squad  stood  ten  yards  from  her.  She 
would  be  executed  at  once,  she  was  told, 
unless  she  confessed  within  one  minute. 
The  minute  passed — in  silence.  The 
Germans  shrugged,  led  Mrs.  Rosso- 
Bishop  back  to  her  cell.  Finally,  she 
was  freed. 

When  Mrs.  Rosso-Bishop  returned  to 
her  little  home,  it  was  empty.  She  was 
lucky  to  be  alive.  Mrs.  Rosso-Bishop 
knew  that  from  here  on  in  she  would 
be  under  the  strictest  surveillance. 

It  was  at  this  point  when  she  began 
the  most  hazardous  adventure  of  her 
amazing  career:  the  escorting  of  over 
1,800  Allied  Soldiers,  intelligence  men 
and  airmen  across  the  Italian  border 
into   safe   territory. 

"How  did  you  manage  this?"  I  asked. 

"I  walked  with  them,"  she  said. 

Just  like  that.  She  walked  with  them. 
Traveling  by  night,  freezing  and 
hungry,  with  death  behind  each  tree, 
she  walked  with  them. 

Each  of  these  furtive  caravans  took 
ten  days  and  on  all  those  perilous 
journeys,    she   lost    only   five   men. 

When  the  war  ended,  Mrs.  Rosso- 
Bishop's  mission  ended  with  it.  She 
did  her  day's  work,  slept  at  night  with- 
out fear  of  a  German  raid.  The  Ameri- 
can and  British  young  men  were  home, 
too — also  sleeping  without  fear. 

Then,  one  day,  Mrs.  Rosso-Bishop 
had  a  visitor.  A  natty  British  officer. 
While  curious  fellow  villagers  crowded 
around,  he  stood  before  her  and  read 
a  citation,  signed  by  Field  Marshal 
H.  R.  Alexander,  Supreme  Allied  Com- 
mander, Mediterranean  Theater. 

Mrs.  Rosso-Bishop  took  the  paper 
and  folded  it  away.  She  had  asked  for 
no  thanks;  this  was  more  than  enough. 

There  was  one  more  thank  you, 
though.  A  most  wonderful  one  for  Mrs. 
Rosso-Bishop.  After  a  while,  she 
thought  that  she  might  like  to  come  to 
the  America  which  she  had  befriended. 
Hesitantly,  she  went  to  the  U.  S.  Consul 
at  Turin.  It  was  arranged,  and  Amer- 
ica, too,  had  extended  its  thanks. 

So  Mrs.  Rosso-Bishop  came  to  Amer- 
ica, and,  in  the  course  of  visiting  friends 
came  to  visit  with  us  at  Welcome 
Travelers.  She  had  come,  she  said,  to 
start  a  new  life  here.  Well,  I'm  sure 
that  we  all  wish  her  well  in  that  new 
life — in  very  partial  payment  for  all  of 
the  American  lives  which  she  saved. 

Welcome,  Traveler!  Welcome  to  the 
land  you  helped  to  keep  free. 


RADIO  MIRROR 


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JU 


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THIS  is  the  issue  of  Radio  and  Television  Mirror  which  you,  the  readers, 
ordered.  The  ballots  on  which  you  voted,  during  November  and  December 
of  last  year,  for  your  favorite  stars,  your  favorite  programs,  served  as  a 
guide  for  the  editors  in  planning  this,  the  annual  Awards  issue.  Your  votes 
told  us,  as  clearly  as  though  you  were  speaking  for  yourselves  right  here,in 
our  office,  just  which  radio  features  were  giving  you  the  kind  of  entertainment 
you  wanted  .  .  .  what,  of  all  the  listening  fare  provided  during  the  year  by 
the  four  networks,  you  wished  us  to  single  out  for  particular  honor,    vj 

Radio  and  Television  Mirror  carries  your  message  of  approbation  to  these 
programs  in  two  ways.  First,  we  have  devoted  this  entire  issue  to  the  offerings 
which  won  your  applause.  And,  during  the  coming  month,  you  will  hear  the 
editors  make  many  Award  presentations  on  the  air. 

Remember  that,  as  radio  is  important  to  you,  yoxi  are  important  to  radio. 
Continue  to  support  and  to  demand  the  kind  of  entertainment  that  satisfies  you 


K,., _ 

THE  EDITORS 


m 


FOR   FULL  COLOR    PICTURES   OF   THE   WINNERS--SEE    FOLLOWING    PAGES 


23 


The  warmth  of  Kate  Smith's  personality,  always  apparent  in  her  singing,  also 
makes  Kate  Smith  Speaks  a  looked-forward-to  treat  for  daytime  listeners. 


By  KATE  SMITH 


Before  you  go  on  to  the  rest  of  the  Radio 


HELLO,  everybody!  This  is  Kate 
Smith  writing  instead  of  speak- 
ing or  singing.  And  I'm  writing 
about  a  particularly  happy  and 
pleasant  subject — the  annual  awards 
that  are  being  given  by  Radio  Mir- 
ror Magazine  to  the  people  and  the 
programs  of  radio  which  you,  the 
listeners,  have  selected  as  your 
favorites. 

I  am  proud  and  flattered  and 
grateful  to  be  among  those  you  have 
chosen.  And  I'm  humble,  too,  for  a 
very  special  reason.  You  see,  you 
are  the  people  who  really  matter. 
I  know  I  am  speaking  for  everyone 
in  radio  when  I  say  that.  We  who 
broadcast  are  failing  if  we  don't 
please  you.  We  may  please  the 
sponsor  and  his  advertising  agency, 
we  may  please  the  critics  who  write 
for  newspapers  and  magazines  (and 
of  course  we  try  to)  but  if  we  don't 
please  you,  as  you  sit  in  your  homes 
and    turn    the   radio    dial,    we   just 


Mirror  Awards  Winners  for  1948,  read  this  summing 


vip  by  the  star  whose  comment— according 


to  your  votes — is  among  your  favorite  radio  fare 


Kate  Smith  Speaks  is  heard  at  12  Noon;  Kate  Smith  Sings,   12:15  P.M.  EST,  Mon.-Fri.  on  Mutual 


24 


^^ 


Bkmxmi 


aren't  doing  the  job  we  want  to  do. 

The  Radio  Mirror  Awards  are 
sti'ictly  the  listeners'  choice.  As  you 
know,  there  are  all  sorts  of  polls  to 
measure  the  popularity  of  radio  per- 
formers, but  as  far  as  I  know,  Radio 
Mirror's  is  the  only  national  one, 
inviting  listeners  from  all  over  the 
country  to  expx'ess  their  preferences. 
Radio  trade  papers  poll  the  critics 
and  editors.  The  telephone  surveys 
call  up  people  in  large  cities  and  ask 
them  what  program  they  are  listen- 
ing to  at  the  moment.  But  if  you 
aren't  a  professional  critic,  if  you 
live  in  the  country  or  a  small  town, 
or  don't  have  a  telephone,  the  Radio 
Mirror  poll  gives  you  an  opportunity 
to  vote,  in  the  time-honored  way  of 
democracy,  for  your  favorites.  Your 
ballot  is  just  as  important  as  that 
of  the  network  president. 

So  we  know,  all  of  us  to  whom 
you  have  given  your  awards,  that  we 
are  being  honored  by  the  people  who 


really  count.  And  it  gives  us  a  fine 
warm  feeling,  deep  down  in  our 
hearts. 

Looking  over  the  list  of  the  awards, 
I  notice  something  rather  significant. 
Nearly  every  person,  nearly  every 
program  you  have  chosen  is  a  radio 
veteran.  Jack  Benny,  Bing  Crosby, 
Ozzie  Nelson  and  Harriet  Hilliard, 
Lowell  Thomas,  Bill  Stern,  Portia 
Faces  Life,  the  Lux  Theatre,  Horace 
Heidt,  Fred  Waring,  myself — we've 
been  around  the  broadcasting  studios 
for  a  good  many  years  now.  Even 
the  newer  names,  such  as  Art  Link- 
letter,  Jo  Stafford,  Red  Skelton,  and 
Arthur  Godfrey  (as  a  network  star) 
aren't  precisely  novices.  And  while 
it  isn't  always  tactful  to  emphasize 
the  accumulation  of  the  years,  in 
this  case  I  think  no  one  I  have  men- 
tioned will  mind,  because  there  is 
something  very  heart-warming  about 
the  way  you  have  remained  loyal 
to  old  friends. 


I  don't  mean  that  you  are  inhos- 
pitable to  newcomers.  On  the  con- 
trary, since  you  chose  a  new  singer 
and  a  new  program  for  special  com- 
mendation. But  you  aren't  much  im- 
pressed by  the  sudden,  skyrocketing 
new  personality.  You  want  to  be 
sure,  before  applauding,  that  he  or 
she  has  what  it  takes  to  please  you, 
week  after  week,  over  a  long  period 
of  time.  Then,  once  you  are  sure  of 
your  judgment,  you  stick  to  it. 

Of  course,  your  loyalty  makes  its 
own  demands  on  us.  If  we  are  to 
enjoy  it,  we  must  continue  to  give 
you  the  best  that's  in  us.  We  must 
be  just  as  loyal  to  you  as  you  are  to 
us.  We  must  not  become  tired  or 
indifferent  or  cynical.  If  one  of  us 
does,  you  soon  know  it,  because  you 
can't  and  won't  be  fooled.  Loyal  you 
may  be,  but  you  won't  accept  less 
than  our  best.  For  one,  I  hope  you 
never  will. 

Radio  has  {Continued  on  page  80) 


i\owifwc}iae  WOMEN'S  COMMENTATOR 


25 


i 


IAoux.  mvoAite 
MALE  SINGER 


Bing  Crosby's  career  has  made  him  an 
American  idol.  Wasted  time  in  odd  jobs 
till  he  got  into  show  business  as  a  drum- 
mer; became  one  of  Whiteman's  Rhythm 
Boys;  began  soloing  in  radio  in  1935. 
He  was  1947  Awards  winner  too. 

Bing   Crosby's    profiram    is   heard 
Wednesday  nights.  10  EST,  ABC. 


COMEDIAN 


Jack  Benny  really  earned  some  money  as 
a  fiddler  till  he  found  out  about  comedy. 
Smart  enough  to  leave  vaudeville  for 
radio  early  (1932),  he's  now  so  important 
in  the  industry  that  his  recent  network 
switch  made  history.  He  was  1947  winner. 

The   Jack    Benny    Show    is   heard 
Sunday    nights.    7:00    EST.    CBS. 


R 

M 

26 


AUDIENCE  PARTICIPATION 
PROGRAM 

Don  McNeill  began  in  radio  while  still  in 
college,  by  1933  had  perfected  informal 
style  NBC  wanted  for  its  new  Breakfast 
Club.  Tries  to  combine  inspirational  with 
entertainment  values  on  show;  audience 
response  proves  he's  succeeded. 


Don  IVlcINeill  emcees  Breakfast  Club, 
Mon-Fri.      <>     \.IVI      EST.    on    ABC. 


Radio  Mirror  Awards 


vowCmyaute 
;OMEDIENNE 


Eve  Arden  made  her  amateur  debut  at  7, 
her  professional  at  16 — has  always  been  a 
comedienne.  Graduated  from  Ziegfeld 
Follies  to  movies,  where  her  chief  success 
came  in  supporting  comedy  roles.  One  ra- 
dio  season   has   made   her  a   major   star. 

Eve    Arden   in   Our   Miss    Brooks, 
Sunday    nights,   9:30    EST,   CBS. 


QUIZ  SHOW 

Garry  Moore:  33-year-old  proof  that  ra- 
dio does  develop  young  talent.  Radio- 
trained  in  news  and  other  departments, 
he  worked  with  Durante  for  five  years. 
Last  year  he  inherited  Take  It  Or  Leave 
It,  has  carried  that  quiz  to  a   new  high. 

Garry    Moore    emcees    Take    It    Or 
Leave  It,  Sun.,  10  P.M.  EST.  NBC. 


Moax  jUvoAite 
SPORTS  ANNOUNCER 


Bill  Stern,  at  14,  was  reading  Variety  in 
his  Rochester,  N.  Y.  high  school.  Plenty  ■ 
of  discouragement,  climaxed  by  accident 
that  cost  a  leg,  only  sent  him  straighter 
toward  goal  of  sportscasting.  His  "human 
side"    touches    rate    high    with    listeners. 

Bill  Stem's  Sports  INewsreel^ 
Friday.  10:30  P.M.  EST.  NBC. 


W  NNbKS  for  m\i 


BING  CROSBY 


JACK  BENNY 


EVE  AROEN 


GARRY  MOORE 


DON  McNeill 


....^^amt         Rll  I     QTPDM 


HUSBAND  AND  WIFE  TEAM 


Ozzie  Nelson  and  Harriet  Hilliard:  co- 
workers since  Harriet  sang  with  Ozzie's 
band  in'  1932.  Radio  switched  them  from 
music  to  comedy;  they've  been  playing 
themselves — a  family — ^with  increasing  suc- 
cess since  1945.   They  were  1947  winners. 

Ozzie  and   Harriet:   heard    Sunday 
niglits  at  6:30  P.M.  EST,  on  NBC. 


tjoaxTUwAlte 
QUIZMASTER 

Joe  Kelly  says  his  success  with  the  Quiz 
Kids  results  from  his  own  schooling  hav- 
ing stopped  at  8,  when  he  became  "Irish 
Nightingale."  He  really  wants  the  answers 
when  he  asks  the  Kids  questions — and  for 
8  years  they've, cooperated  by  telling  him. 


Joe   KeUy   emcees   Quiz   Kids, 
Sundays,  4  P.M.  EST,  on  NBC. 


RacM 


DAYTIME  SERIAL  ACTRESS 

Florence  Freeman,  an  English  teacher,  got 
her  first  radio  job  by  asking  for  it — most 
unusual.  It  only  lasted  six  months,  but 
the  results  have  kept  her  working  at  the 
microphone  since-  1934.  She's  a  busy 
wife  and  mother,  too. 


Florence  Freenjan  is  Wendy  Warren, 
Mon.-Fri.,  12  N.,  CBS:  and  Young  Wid- 
der   Brown,   Mon.-Fri..   4:45   P.  M.,  NBC. 


28 


10  lYiirror  /wvaras 


Award 


MUSICAL  PROGRAM 

Fred  Waring  operates  a  musical  organi- 
zation rather  than  a  band.  His  Glee  Club 
and  other  features  have  been  popular 
since  radio  began  to  show  them  ofT  in 
1933.  He's  also  a  composer  and  inventor: 
the   Waring   Mixer  is    one   of   his   ideas. 


The  Fred  Waring  Show:  NBC,  Mon.- 
Fri.,  10  A.M.;  Thurs.,  10:30  P.M.,  EST. 


tjoaxmvoAite 
MASTER  OF  CEREMONIES 

Art  Linkletter,  a  Canadian  who  conquered 
the  States,  wanted  to  teach,  got  side- 
tracked into  radio.  He'd  been  a  deck- 
hand, harvest  hand,  meat  packer,  knew  so 
much  about  people  that  his  job  as  an- 
nouncer had  to  lead  to  emceeing. 


\rt  Linkletter  emcees  G.E- 
Houseparty,  Mon.-Fri.,  3:30 
P.M.,  ABC;  People  Are  Funny, 
Tues,  10:30    P.M.    EST,  NBC. 


ititUit^A 


DAYT 


oux  mwAtte 
ME  SERIAL  ACTOR 


Ned  Wever  went  from  Princeton  to  the 
Broadway  stage,  left  it  in  1929  to  con- 
centrate on  radio  acting.  He  still  has  a 
musical  avocation,  has  written  the  lyrics 
to  a  number  of  popular  songs — "Trouble 
in  Paradise"  was  one. 


Ned  Wever  is  Anthony  -Loring 
in  Young  Widder  Brown,  heard 
Mon.-Fri.,  4:45  P.M.  EST,  NBC. 


WTMtKrfonMS 


OZZIE  &   HARRIET 


JOE   KELLY 


ART  LINKLETTER 


FLORENCE   FREEMAN 


Bill  Lawrence,  voted  best  newcomer 
of  the  year,  was  a  Talent  Scouts  winner, 
now  sings  regularly  on  Godfrey  show. 

30 


With  Arthnr  is  Margaret  "Mng"  Rich* 
ardson,  chief  enag-emoother-onter  and 
head   of    Godfrey's   big   assistant   staff. 


^h 


Vse^ 


\ 


ARTHUR  GODFREY 


i\cwffiiyciutk  VARIETY  PROGRAM 


The  Arttiar  Gf>dfrey  Show,  Mon.-Fri.,  10:30  A.M.  EST,  CBS. 


IN  1947's  Awards,  Arthur  God- 
frey tied  himself — ^his  a.m.  show 
and  Talent  Scouts  came  in  neck 
and  neck  as  "Best  Program  on  the 
Air."  History  hasn't  repeated  itself 
only  because  this  year's  Awards 
added  a  new  category:  "Favorite 
Variety  Program."  Which  the  un- 
stoppable Godfrey  went  ahead  and 
won  with  his  daj^me  show  (this 
page)  while  Talent  Scouts  (facing) 
retains    "Best    Program"    honors. 

The   Mariners — ^four   reasons,  for   the 
Godfrey  Show's  twice-running  victory. 


Janette  Davis  holds  down  female 
vocal  honors  on  the  morning  show.  The 
orchestra  is  directed  by  Archie  Bleyer. 


Before  a  Talent  ScouU  <ho\v.  con- 
te^-tanl  Elizabeth  Talbot-Martin  cou- 
i'ers      ^vith      director      Dick      Cariiev. 


n  Talent  Scouts,  ai 
iiy  the  singing  cfuii 
all  and  the  Holiday 


^' 


!«;. 


iiWiiMi^ 


Iwo  no  grams -Iwo  Awards 


y    jSeAt  PROGRAM  ON  THE  AIR 

Arthur  Godfrey's  Talent  Scouts,  Mon.,  8:30  P.M.  EST,  CBS 

For  the  second  time,  Artliur 
Godfrey's  charm  is  behind  the 
success  of  two  Award  winners 


Receptionist  Ardyn  Kahn  helps  pros- 
pective "talent"  to  apply  for  auditions. 


Their  applications  approved,  contest- 
ants await  auditions.  Nail-biting  gives 
away  nervousness  theyhopewon't  show! 


Audition  record  playback:  Nancy  Leg- 
gett,  sec'y-;  Sonja  Morse,  office  nigr. ; 
Penny    Morgan,    of    Audition    Dept. 

31 


IJ     l« 


ior  1948 


JO  STAFFORD 


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DON 

WILSON 

GEORGE  DENNY 


BASIL  LOUGHRANE 


A|THURGODFR 


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BILL  LAWRENCE 


Radio  Mirror  Awards 


(Aoux  TUw;ute 
WOMAN  SINGER 

Jo  Stafford  is  a  native  Californian  who 
jnst  likes  to  sing.  She  started  out  with  her 
sisters,  was  one  of  Tommy  Dorsey's  Pied 
Pipers,  persuaded  herself  (she  was 
timid)  to  solo  in  1944,  has  broken  disc 
sales  records  ever  since. 


Jo  Stafford  Show,  Thurs.,  9:30  P.M. 
F.ST,  ABC.  She  is  also  on  the  Supper 
Club,    Tuesdays.    7   P.M.    EST,    NBC. 


ANNOUNCER 

Don  Wilson  was  once  a  salesman — good 
experience  for  the  expert  peddling  he 
now  does  on  the  air.  His  popularity  as  an 
announcer  (and,  with  Benny,  stooge)  has 
won  him  increased  duties  on  the  Alan 
Young  Show,  on  which  he  also  emcees. 


Don  Wilson:  on  the  Jack  Benny  Show, 
Sun.,  7  P.M.,  CBS.  On  the  Alan  Young 
Show,    Tues.,    8:30    P.M.    EST,    NBC. 


EDUCATIONAL  PROGRAM 

George  V.  Denny,  Jr.,  Pres.  of  N.Y.C.'s 
Town  Hall,  helped  originate  Town  Meet- 
ing of  the  Air  in  1935,  remained  as  mod- 
erator— a  ticklish  job,  since  topics  are 
always  so  vital  that  debaters  and  audi- 
ence become  as  heated  as  the  air  allows. 


■  Town  Meeting  of  the  Air:  Tues- 
day nights  at  8:30  EST.  on  ABC. 


RELIGIOUS  PROGRAM 

Basil  Loughrane  produces  Light  of  the 
World,  which  has  proved  that  religions 
drama,  properly  presented,  can  win  and 
hold  devoted  radio  audiences.  (Light  of 
the  World  also  placed  first  in  its  category 
in  1947  Radio  Mirror  Awards.) 


Light  of  the  World:  Mon.- 
Fri.,2:45  P.M.  EST,on  NBC, 


VARIETY  PROGRAM 
BEST  PROGRAM  ON  THE  AIR 

Arthur  Godfrey,  lazy-voiced  radio  phe- 
nomenon, wins  two  Awards  this  year  as 
he  did  last  year.  The  ex-disc  jockey  who 
substituted  sincerity  for  routine  commer- 
cials now  has  only  to  ally  himself  with  a 
program,  it  seems,  to  shoot  it  upwards. 


Talent  Scouts  (best  program) :  8:30  P.M. 
lUon.,  CBS.  Arthur  Godfrey  Show  (best 
variety):    Mon.-Fri.,   10:30  A.M.,  CBS. 


NEWCOMER 


Bill  Lawrence,  most  promising  new- 
comer, is  a  mere  21.  And — ^partly  due  to 
Godfrey — is  on  his  way  to  who  knows 
what  success.  For  it  was  on  Talent  Scouts 
that  Bill  sang  to  his  first  natioxt-wide  audi- 
ence,     got     his      first     major     contract. 

Bill  Lawrence  sings  on  the  Arthur 

Godfrey     Show,     CBS     Mon-Fri. 


33 


m  for  10411 


LOWELL  THOMAS 


LUCILLE  WALL 


BILL  SPIER 


v'«w.  MwiiiWittminMrmni 


iiaaio  iviirror  /wvards 


Uoux^voJuXe 
NEWS  COMMENTATOR 


Lowell  Thomas  holds  the  title  he  won  in 
last  year's  Awards.  Till  he  began  broad- 
easting  in  1930,  Thomas  was  chiefly 
known  as  Lawrence  of  Arabia's  biogra- 
pher; now  this  adventurer-reporter's  com- 
ments on  any  topic  make  news. 

Lowell  Thomas  is  heard  Mon.- 
Fri.,  6:45  P.M.  EST,  on  CBS. 


DAYTIME  SERIAL 


Portia  Faces  Life,  starring  Lucille  Wall, 
began  on  the  air  in  1940.  The  story  of  n 
successful  woman  lawyer  who  tries  to  be 
a  homemaker  as  well,  Portia  is  written  by 
Mona  Kent,  produced  and  directed  by 
Hoyt  Allen. 

Portia  Faces  Life  is  heard  M on- 
Fri!,  5:15  P.M.  EST,  on  NBC. 


DETECTIVE  STORY 


Dashiell  Hammett's  hard-boiled  detec- 
tive, Sam  Spade,  made  a  radio  debut  in 
1946.  Produced  and  directed  by  William 
Spier,  written  by  Gil  Doud  and  Robert 
Tallman,  starring  Howard  Duff,  Sam  has 
•earned  an  enthusiastic  listening  audience. 

The  Adventures  ot  Sam  Spade: 
Sun.,   8   PJM.    EST,   on   CBS. 


PROGRAM  FOR  CHILDREN 

.  Jimsey  Somers  is  one  of  the  cast  of  Let's 
Pretend,  whose  original  listeners  (it  went 
on  the  air  in  1930)  presumably  now  tune 
it  in  for  their  own  children.  Originated 
by  Nila-  Mack,  who  also  produces  and 
directs  it,  Let's  Pretend  won  last  year  too. 

Let's  Pretend  is  heard  Satur- 
day. 11:05  A.M.  EST,  on  CBS. 


ORCHESTRA  LEADER 


Vaughn  Monroe  was  willing  to  earn 
money  as  a  musician,  but  definitely  didn't 
want  to  be  a  bandleader — too  many  wor- 
ries. So,  he  became  a  bandleader,  and  in 
1940  began  to  be  one  of  the  most  suc- 
cessful in  the  coiuitry. 

Camel  Caravan,  "with  Vaughn  Mon- 
roe:    Sat.     7:30    P.M.     EST,    CBS. 


NEW  PROGRAM 

When  Stop  the  Music  exploded  onto  the 
airwaves  last  year,  Bert  Parks  canje  with 
it  as  m.c,  Mark  Goodson  as  director.  Its 
fabulous  success  proves  that  the  drama 
of  sudden  wealth — even  going  to  someone 
else — is    today's    most    exciting    listening. 

Stop  the  Music:  heard  Sun- 
days, 8  P.M.  EST,  on  ABC. 


Bill's  green  thumb  shows  all  *over  the 
place — in  the  terrace  strawberry  nms, 
in  the  flowers  with  which  his  lovingly- 
tended    gardens    fill    Genevieve's    bowls. 


oux%YcjutB  DRAMATIC  PROGRAM 


OCCASIONALLY  the  master  of  ceremonies  on 
a  quiz  show  asks  a  woman  contestant  to 
give  her  reasons  for  having  chosen  the 
husband  she  did. 

Because  I'm  just  Irish  enough  to  be  unable 
to  see  a  motion  picture,  visit  an  art  gallery,  or 
listen  to  a  radio  program  without  feeling  per- 
sonally involved,  I  have  often  tried  to  answer 
that  question  in  the  privacy  of  my  own  living 
room  and  to  the  satisfaction  of  my  own  heart. 

It  is  a  question  that,  for  me,  requires  no  deep 
thought  whatsoever  to  produce  a  long  answer. 
In  my  opinion,  William  Keighley — ^whom  I 
sometimes  call  "Bill,"  sometimes  call  "Keigh- 
ley"— is  that  rare  combination:  a  successful 
business  man  and  A  great  artist.  He  is  enter- 
prising, has  great  lust  for  life,  is  capable  of 
intense  effort;  he  is  also  humorous,  great- 
hearted, thoughtful,  and  sentimental.  He  is, 
at  the  same  time,  an  utterly  natural  human 
being  and  a  cultirred  gentleman. 

And  he  keeps  his  wife  in  a  state  of  mingled 
admiration  and  astonishment. 

"Why  don't  you  continue  your  picture 
career?"  someone  asks  me,  often  enough  to  keep 
me  quietly  complacent.  This  is  a  question 
every  actress  loves  to  hear. 

I  always  answer,  "For  me,  marriage  is  a  full- 
time  job." 

I  believe  that  some  women  are  able  to  com- 
bine marriage  and  a  career  with  ease  and  grace; 
it  depends  largely  upon  the  husband.  My  own 
husband  has  projects  enough  to  keep  both  of  us 
busy  all  the  time.  How  well  I  remember  the 
first  morning  I  planned  to  resume  my  career 
after  a  brief  honejnuoon! 

The  maid  tapped  on  our  door  at  5:30  A.M., 
the  customary  time  for  an  actress  to  arise;  I 
dragged  myself  into  robe  and  slippers  and  was 
wandering  around  in  the  dark,  when  a  sleep- 
fogged  voice  demanded  from  the  other  twin 
bed  "What's  wrong?" 

"Nothing  at  all,"  I  chirped.  "When  I'm  work- 
ing in  a  picture  I  always  get  up  at  5:30.  I  must 
be  on  the  set,  dressed,  made-up,  coiffed  and 
ready  to  be  vivid  for  (Continued  on  page  81) 


William  Keighley  prodnces  Lux 
Radio  Theatre,  voted  Favorite 
Dramatic  Program  for  the  sec- 
ODd  successive  year.  (Mon.,  9 
P.M.  EST,  on  the  CBS  network.) 


KEIGHLEY' 


When  a  star  leaves  the  screen,  at  the 


peak  of  her  success,  for  marriage 


she's  marrying  somone  like  "Keighley' 


By   GENEVIEVE   TOBIN   KEIGHLEY 


Bill  likes  not  only  art,  but  artists;  Everett 
Shinn,  who  painted  "The  White  Ballet"  (above),is 
a  good  friend.  Below,  terrace  brunch  is  served 
by  Tommy,  the  Keighleys'  indispensable  houseman. 


There's  one  quality  all  champions         | 
have.    Nobody  knows  better  than  BUI 


By  MARTIN 


YOU'VE  heard  Bill  Stern  tell  of  athletes 
with  the  guts  and  determination  to  fight 

their  way  to  the  top.  But  there's  one 
courageous  story  he  will  never  broadcast. 
It's  the  real  life  story  of  a  fighter  who  slugged 
his  way  through  obstacles  and  handicaps  to 
become  a  champion  im  his  own  right.  Bill 
Stern  will  never  tell  this-  one  because  it's 
the  story  of  his  own  life. 

It  was  perseverance  and  a  strong  heart, 
pluck,  not  luck,  that  accounts  for  his  winning 
every  National  Award  for  sports  announcers 
since  1938.  BiU  Stern  is  the  top  sportscaster 
in  the  country.  But  it  was  a  rough  and  tum- 
ble battle  all  the  way  up. 

"There's  no  easy  road  to  success,"  Bill  will 


Bill  Stern's  Sports  Newsreel  of  the  Air  is  heard 


Bill's    sports  reports  show  un-         ;j 
derstanding     of     the    players 
as     well     as     of     the     game. 


Stern  what  it  is  .  .  .  and  why 


COHEN 


tell  you.  "You  sweat  blood  from  start  to 
finish  and  then  you  can't  let  up." 

Bill  knows.  And  perhaps  this  accounts  for 
his  insight.  He  knows  that  behind  the  AU 
American  or  the  boxing  champion,  there  is 
a  tale  of  broken  dreams  and  human  effort 
that  is  as  heroic  as  the  sports  event  itself. 
Bill  realizes  that  it  takes  more  than  strong 
legs  and  good  wind  to  make  an  Olympic 
runner.  He  knows  that  the  personal  victory 
is  bigger  than  a  silver  trophy  and  headlines. 
He  knows  these  things  from  the  depths  of  his 
own  experience. 

Yet,  in  paradox,  his  childhood  was  a  far 
cry  from  hardship  or  distress. 

Bill   Stern  was-  born   into   a   comfortable 


1|cai^n>Aite  SPORTS  ANNOUNCER 


home  in  the  pleasant  town  of  Rochester, 
New  York.  If  he  had  been  an  average  per- 
son with  average  ambitions,  he  would  have 
had  every  opportunity  to  build  a  quiet,  pros- 
perous life.  ,But  even  as  a  boy  he  knew 
where  he  was  going.  His  only  interests  were 
sports  and  show  business. 

Too  frequently  he  played  hookey  from 
school  to  see  a  ball  game.  At  the  age  of 
fourteen,  teachers  scolded  him  for  carrying 
Variety  into  study  halls.  When  he  should 
have  been  preparing  an  arithmetic  lesson, 
he  was  designing  and  building  a  miniature 
theater.  As  a  result,  his  chores  and  studies 
were  neglected. 

"Look,  son,  you've  (Continued  on  page  101) 


Friday  nights,  10:30  EST,  on  NBC. 


39 


Mnry  May,  five,  has  one  complaint.  "Dad  and  Mom  play  with  our  toys! 


Peter's  verdict  on  an- 
nouncers: "They  talk 
too  mni-h."  But  his 
verdict  on  Bill  as  a 
father  is  the  same  as 
Mary  May's:  "Perfect." 


By  MAR  ON 


YOU'VE  heard  Bill  Stern  tell   of  athletes, 
with  the  guts  and  determination  to  figlit 

their  way  to  the  top.  But  there's  or": 
courageous  story  he  will  never  broadcast. 
It's  the  real  life  story  of  a  fighter  who  sluggeci 
his  way  through  obstacles  and  handicaps  1" 
become  a  champion  ins  his  own  right.  Bill 
Stern  will  never  tell  this-  one  because  it'y 
the  story  of  his  own  life. 

It  was  perseverance  and  a  strong  heari, 
pluck,  not  luck,  that  accounts  for  his  winning 
every  National  Award  for  sports  announcers 
since  1938.  Bill  Stern  is  the  top  sportscaster 
in  the  country.  But  it  was  a  rough  and  tum- 
ble battle  all  the  way  up. 

"There's  no  easy  road  to  success,"  Bill  will 


Bill  Stern's  Sports  Newsreel  of  the  Air  i 


Stern  what  it  is  .  .  .  and  why 
COHEN 


tell  you.  "You  sweat  blood  from  start  to 
finish  and  then  you  can't  let  up." 

Bill  knows.  And  perhaps  this  accounts  for 
liis  insight.  He  knows  that  behind  the  AU 
/Vraerican  or  the  boxing  champion,  there  is 
a  tale  of  broken  dreams  and  human  effort 
'iiat  is  as  heroic  as  the  sports  event  itself. 
Bill  reahzes  that  it  takes  more  than  strong 
i-gs  and  good  wind  to  make  an  Olympic 
'  unner.  He  knows  that  the  personal  victory 
:'  bigger  than  a  silver  trophy  and  headlines. 
He  knows  these  things  from  the  depths  of  his 
"wn  experience. 

Yet,  in  paradox,  his  childhood  was  a  far 
'  y  from  hardship  or  distress. 

BiU   Stern   was-  born   into   a   comfortable 


home  in  the  pleasant  town  of  Rochester, 
New  York.  If  he  had  been  an  average  per- 
son with  average  ambitions,  he  would  have 
had  every  opportunity  to  build  a  quiet,  pros- 
perous life.  ,But  even  as  a  boy  he  knew 
where  he  was  going.  His  only  inferests  were 
sports  and  show  business. 

Too  frequently  he  played  hookey  from 
school  to  see  a  ball  game.  At  the  age  of 
fourteen,  teachers  scolded  him  tor  carrying 
Varicfy  into  study  halls.  When  he  should 
have  been  preparing  an  arithmetic  lesson, 
he  was  designing  and  building  a  miniature 
theater.  As  a  result,  his  chores  and  studies 
were  neglected. 

"Look,  son.  you've  (Continued  on  pnc/e  101) 


friitn   nights.  10:30  EST.  on  NBC. 


i! 


Ned  Wever's   commiltation  ticket  is 


By  IRA  KNASTER 


The  thirty-foot  living  room,  decorated 

(as  is  the  whole  house)  by  Carla,  offers  space 

for  everything  the  family  likes  to  do 

together.  Being  read  to  by  Ned   (above)  is  a 

favorite  after-dinner  pastime  for  the 

girls — Pam,  left,  and  Pat — as  well  as  Carla.  And 

when  Ned  supervises  piano  practice,  Pam 

and  Pat  are  getting  a  professional's  opinion. 

Their  dad  is  an  accomplished  musician. 


oux^jute  DAYTIME  SERIAL  ACTOR 


Ned  Wever  is  heard  as  Anthony  Loring  in  Young  Widder  Bn>wn,  Mon.-Fri.  at  4:45  P.M. 
EST,  on  NBC  network  stations. 


FIVE  days  each  week,  a  tall,  trimly  athletic,  impec- 
cably tailored  man  and  his  strikingly  beautiful, 

smartly  dressed  wife  leave  their  dream  house, 
nestled  amid  two  acres  of  delightful  Old  Greenwich 
greenery,  and  drive  to  the  railway  station  ten  minutes 
away  in  Stamford,  Connecticut.  The  New  York 
express  rolls  in.  The  handsome  man  gives  his  attrac- 
tive wife  a  farewell  kiss  and  then  he  boards  the  train. 
An  hour  later,  he  arrives  in  Manhattan,  aU  set  to 
carry  on  with  his  career  as  suitor  to  another  woman. 

Respectable  society  isn't  the  least  bit  shocked  by 
this  sort  of  double  life.  In  fact,  a  tremendous  number 
of  people  have  voiced  approval  of  the  handsome  man's 
activities  by  voting  him  winner  of  the  Radio  Mirror 
Award  for  best  daytime  serial  actor. 

His  name  is  Ned  Wever  and,  these  past  liine  years, 
as  Doctor  Anthony  Loring,  aU  the  world  knows  of  his 
romance  with  the  "other  woman" — Ellen,  of  Yoxing 
Widder  Brown.  For  fifteen  absorbing  minutes  every 
afternoon,  Monday  to  Friday,  Ned  lives  Doctor 
Loring  and  fairly  breathes  the  highly-charged  atmos- 
phere of  SimpsonvUle.  He  becomes  embroiled  in  the 
problems  and  intrigues  of  Ellen  Brown,  Lawyer 
Temple,    Victoria    Loring,    Norine    Temple,    Maria 


Hawkins,  Doctor  Virginia  Mallory  and  the  host  of 
other  vivid  characters  who  people  that  imaginary 
community. 

But  when  the  studio  clock  ticks  4:59  EST,  all  of 
these  memorable  characters  fade  out  and  Ned  Wever 
is  ready  (commutation  ticket  in  hand,  almost)  to 
rejoin  his  real-life  companions  .  .  .  his  lovely  wife 
Carla,  his  pert  eleven-year-old  Patricia,  his  impish 
seven-year-old  Pamela  (a  comedian!)  and  their 
bosom  pal  Koko,  an  ultra-affectionate  French  poodle. 
They'll  all  be  waiting  for  him  when  he  returns  to  the 
hoiise  on  Random  Road,  Old  Greenwich. 

Does  he  return  to  an  atmosphere  of  serene  calm  and 
quiet?  Not  for  the  first  ten  minutes,  anyway.  Brac- 
ing himself,  Ned  meets  the  onslaught  as  Pat,  Pam 
and  Koko  charge  at  him  with  uproarious  welcome. 
In  a  clamorous  confusion  of  poodle  barks  and  small- 
fry  exuberance,  Ned  will  be  given  to  understand  that 
everything  has  proceeded  normally  during  his 
absence. 

His  two  blonde  and  blue-eyed  daughters  regale 
him  with  breathless  highlights  of  their  doings  at  the 
Old  Greenwich  School  where  Pat's  in  the  sixth  grade 
and  Pam  is  in  the  second.   (Continued  on  page  85) 


his  passport  between  two  worlds:  the  problem  world  of  drama,  the  peace  of  his  Connecticut  home 


"Taste  it  and  see  if  yoti  like  it,"  is  an  invitation  that  holds  no  dread  for  any  member  of  Carla  Wcvot's 
household.  She  parallels  Ned's  mnsic  and  acting  success  with  her  talented  homemaking  and  cooking. 


m 


uspe^isci 


w  ^- 


\ 


For  half  an  hour  every  week 

there's  a  nation-wide  epidemic  of  cold 


shudders — that's  Suspense! 


The  first  run-through:  seated  around  the  table,  clockwise,  are  actors  Fred  Campbell  and  Bud  Widom;  Eileen  Kilroy,  script  girl; 
in  background  are  actor  Johnny  Jacobs  and  the  producer-director  of  Suspense,  Tony  Leader;  at  head  of  table,  Danny  KLaye,  the 
guest  star  of  this  particular  performance;  then  Paul  Frees,  assistant  director;  Theodore  Von  Eltz,  Hal  March,  Charles  Latour, 
actors;  Mary  Shipp,  who  played  the  only  woman's  role  in  "The  Too-Perfect  Alibi,"  and,  with  back  to  camera,  actor  John  Mclntyre. 


SUSPENSE  was  first  heard  over  CBS,  as  a  sustaining  program  in 
July  of  1940,  and  has  been  ever  since  that  happy-and-rare- 
combination,  an  artistic  as  well  as  a  commercial  success.  In  the 
typical  Suspense  script  there  are  few  characters,  and  there  is  no 
question  as  to  "whodxmit,"  for  the  program  speciaUzes  in  what  is 
known  as  psychological  drama.  Those  who  want  head-bashings,  a 
murder  a  minute  and  a  detective  who  talks  out  of  the  side  of  his 
mouth  will  have  to  look  elsewhere.  Instead,  there  is  a  single  dra- 
matic situation  in  which  suspense  is  built  to  an  excruciating  pitch 
before  the  sudden  surprise  ending.  Tony  Leader,  producer-director, 
insists  that  stories  must  be  logical,  believable.  There  must  be  no 
false  clues  to  miislead  the  listeners,  no  use  of  the  supernatural 
to  gain  the  effects  of  terror  and  .  .  .  Suspense. 


^m 


J8e4:  MYSTERY  PROGRAM 


Suspense  is  heard  Thursdays,  9  P.M. EST,  on  CBS 


On  the  air:  Now  Leader  goes  into  an 
all-but-baUet  routine,  expressions 
and  gestures  mirroring  emotions  he 
wants  to   draw  out  of  his  players. 


i 


Rehearsal:  Leader  never  reads  lines 
for  an  actor — says  they  know  how  bet- 
ter than  he.  His  way  is  to  explain 
what*  he  wants,  let  them  achieve  it. 


Rehearsal :  No  comedy  role  for  Danny 
Kaye  tonight;  Leader  likes  to  give 
movie  performers  a  chance  to  get  out 
of   the   Hollywood   type-casting    rut. 


Rehearsal:  While  others  have  a  turn 
at  the  microphone  John  Johnson 
looks  at  the  news,  and  announcer  Har- 
low Wilcox  reads  over  commercials. 


Standby:  Ready  to  go  on  the  air,  the  cast,  keyed-up  for  performance,  watches  Leader,  who 
is  now  in  the  producer's  booth,  for  the  signal  to  begin.  Except  during  the  actual 'show. 
Leader  seems  composed,  relaxed,  soft-spoken,  even  when  faced  with  making  big  cuts  in  script — 
at  a  few  minutes  to  airtime.    But  with  the  program  actually  on  the  air,  a  change  comes. 


Control  room:  stopwatch  in  hand, 
Eileen  Kilroy  keeps  a  .close  check  on 
the  time;  Frees  follows  lines,  Leader 
and   engineer    iron    out   a    problem. 


Sound:  Dave  Light  and  Clark  Casey, 
sound  men,  produce  those  amazing- 
ly real  effects  for  which  Suspense  is 
famous.  Leader  insists  on  realism. 


Music:  Lud  Cluskin  conducts  the  Suspense  orchestra,  which  interprets  the  original  musical 
scores  composed  for  the  program  by  Lucien  Moraweck.  Airtime  finds  everything  in  the 
Music  department,  but  rehearsals  can  be,  to  say  the  least,  confusing,  with  Gluskin  and 
Moraweck  arguing  hotly  in  a  torrent  of  French,  to  the  confusion  of  the  other  musicians. 


The  Quiz  Kids  know  the 


answers — -but  Joe  Kelly  knows 


how  to  ask  the  questions 


V^*^ 


^^/' 


His   parents,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Joe  Jr.   (standing) 
and  his  grandparents, 
Mary  and  Joe  Sr„  con- 
gratulated yonng  Joe  III 
after  his  recent  radio 
debut.   He  gurgled 
with  the  poise  of  a  veteran. 


BLlE 


THE  GUEST  is  the  star  of  the  show  from 
the  moment  chimes  announce  his  arrival 
at  the  Joe  Kellys'  apartment,  far  out  on 
the  western  edge  of  Chicago. 

Right  on  cue,  Joe  flings  open  the  door  and 
says  heartily,  "Come  on  in.  We've  looked 
forward  to  seeing  you."  And  Mary  appears 
behind  him,,  echoing  his  words. 

As  she  stands  framed  in  the  doorway  to 
the  huge  Uving  room,  the  rose-beige  walls 
accent  her  dark  beauty,  and  rays  from  the 
windows,  curved  widely  in  a  bay,  give  her  a 
dramatic  highhght.  It's  an  impressive,  formal 
room,  but  the  den,  down  the  hall,  is  where 
the  Kellys  usually  "visit."  "It's  a  good  place 
to  talk,"  Mary  explains. 

That's  exactly  what  it  is,  too — the  right 
size  for  three  or  four  friends.  A  combination 
trophy  room,  study  and  oflBce-at-home,  it's 
warmly  intimate.  Joe's  desk  and  file  cabinet 
are  pushed  back  into  the  corner.  The  red 
pattern  of  the  Navajo  rug  contrasts  with  the 
KeUy-green  desk  gadgets. 

Comfortable    maple    chairs  f  are    flanked 
by   tables   holding   well   filled   candy   trays, 
cigarette  boxes  and  lighters  which  work- 
Joe,    clad    in    (Continued    on    page  78) 


■'I'm  strictly  a  sandwich  man — three-decker!* 


\oux%yoJuXe  QUIZMASTER 


The  den  is  the  hob  of  the  Kellys'  home  life.  Here,  Borroimded  by  the 
souvenirs  of  vaudeville  days,  Joe  entertains,  relaxes,  and  works. 


To  the  Kids,  Joe's  someone  to  have  fim  with.    Pat  Conlon,  Melvin 
Miles,  Joel  Knpperman,  Lonny  Londe,  Rath  Dnskin  join  him  in  a  song. 


loe  Kelly  is  Chief  Quizzer  on  Quiz  ijads.  Sun.,  4  P.M.  EST,  NBC. 


The  dining  room  is  Mary's  "favorite  place."  Joe's  snccess  has  meant 
that,  after  years  of  yearning  for  beantifol  things,  she  can  now  have  them. 


The  Quiz  Kids  know  the 
answers — but  Joe  Kelly  knows 
how  to  ask  the  questions 


vv^y.  lLZ/-d    1L\\LL 


His   parents,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Joe  Jr.   (standing) 
and  his  grandparents, 
Mary  and  Joe  Sr„  con- 
gratulated yonng  Joe  III 
after  his  recent  radio 
debut.  He  gurgled 
with  the  poise  of  a  veteran. 


THE  GUEST  is  the  star  of  the  show  from 
the  moment  chimes  announce  his  arrival 
at  the  Joe  Kellys'  apartment,  far  out  on 
the  western  edge  of  Chicago. 

Right  on  cue,  Joe  flings  open  the  door  and 
says  heartily,  "Come  on  in.  We've  looked 
forward  to  seeing  you."  And  Mary  appears 
behind  him,,  echoing  his  words. 

As  she  stands  framed  in  the  doorway  to 
the  huge  living  room,  the  rose-beige  walls 
accent  her  dark  beauty,  and  rays  from  the 
windows,  cUrved  widely  in  a  bay,  give  her  a 
dramatic  highlight.  It's  an  impressive,  formal 
room,  but  the  den,  down  the  hall,  is  where 
the  Kellys  usually  "visit."  "It's  a  good  place 
to  talk,"  Mary  explains. 

That's  exactly  what  it  is,  too — the  right 
size  for  three  or  four  friends.  A  combination 
trophy  room,  study  and  office-at-home,  it's 
warmly  intimate.  Joe's  desk  and  file  cabinet 
are  pushed  back'  into  the  comer.  The  red 
pattern  of  the  Navajo  rug  contrasts  with  the 
KeUy-green  desk  gadge'ts. 

Comfortable  maple  chairs  ( are  flanked 
by  tables  holding  well  filled  candy  trays, 
cigarette  boxes  and  lighters  which  work. 

Joe,    clad    in    {Continued    on    page  78) 


'  tn  strictly  a  sandwich  man — three-decker!" 


^M'«^  QUIZMASTER 


The  den  is  the  hub  of  the  Kellys'  home  life.  Here,  surrounded  by  the 
souvenirs   of  vaudeville   days,  Joe   enterlnins,   rclnxea,   and   worki. 


To  the  Kids,  Joe's  someone  to  hove  fun  with,    Pat  Ooiiltin,  Melvin 
Miles,  Joel  Kapperman,  Lonny  Lnndc,  Ruth  Duskiii  join  him  in  n  song. 


'  ■'   '   Iwof  Ou 


Quiz  Kifls,  Sun..  4  P.M.  EST,  NBC. 


The  dining  room  is  Mary's  "favorite  place."  Joe's  success  has  meant 
that,  after  years  of  yearning  for  beaatifol  things,  she  can  now  have  them. 


No  skimping  on  kitchen  choJ-es — ^Florence  enjoys  cooking  too  much. 


■•" 

\ 

-■^ 

M 

— 

\ 

:         1 

1 

Y 

_^ 

M 

l._ 

and  the 


46 


Wendy  Warren  and  Widder  Brown  have  one  important  thing  in  common :  Florence  Freeman 


By  Rose  A.  Englander 


A  GROUP  of  women  sat  sewing  in  their  Red  Cross 
production  quarters.  The  time  of  this  scene  was 
the  war  years.  The  place,  the  vestry  room  of  a 
house  of  worship  in  Jersey  City,  a  large  New  Jersey 
community  just  across  the  river  from  New  York. 

Women  stood  at  long  tables  cutting  cloth  into  gar- 
ments; women  sewed  by  hand.  And  off  to  the  side 
whirred  the  quick  girls,  the  ones  who  could  make  a 
sewing  machine  fairly  fly. 

The  production  chief  looked  at  her  watch,  called 
to  one  of  the  machine  operators,  "Florence!  Time!" 

No  response.  Florence  bent  her  pretty  head  with 
its  mass  of  ash  blond  curls  over  her  work,  her  deljcate 
features  almost  frowning  in-  concentration.  Only 
when  nudged  did  she'  come  out  of  it. 

"Florence!  Get  going.  You'll  be  late  for  rehearsal!" 

The  star  of  Young  Widder  Brown  grabbed  her  coat, 
head  kerchief,  purse,  her  carry.-all  bag  stuffed  with 
war  knitting,  and  ran.  The  women  shotited  "Good- 
bye .  .  .  Give  a  good,  show  .  .  .  We'll  be  listening." 

They  certainly  told  the  truth.  At  4:45  their  dials 
were  set  daily  to  hear  Florence  Freeman  as  Ellen 
Brown,  the  young  widder.  Today  they  listen  to  two 
programs,  for  every  noon  Florence  becomes  Wendy 
Warren,  glamorous  newspaper  girl. 

That  people  listen  to  Florence  Freeman  isn't  news 


— as  witness  this  year's  Radio  Mirror  Award.  She's 
known  for  a  long  time  that  her  fans  are  scattered 
over  the  nation,  for  their  gifts — ^the  friendly,  home- 
made gifts  of  crochet  work. and  cookies  and  such — 
bear  postmarks  from  California,  New  England,  the 
Middle  West,  the  South. 

But  it's  fun  too  to  have  your  family  doctor  say, 
"Florence,  I  caught  your  show  in  the  car  today.  Now 
you  know  I  like  your  Dr.  Anthony  Loring  very  much, 
but  I  must  say  I  don't  agree  with  the  way  he's 
handling  this  .case." 

It's  good  to  have  your  ten-year-old  daughter  Judy 
ask  earnestly,  "Mommy,  why  is  it  when  you're  sad 
on  the  radio  it  makes  Deana  and  me  cry,  but  when 
other  people  are  sad  we're  sorry  for  them  but  we 
don't  feel  like  crying?"  Deana,  sixteen  months 
younger  and  a  merry  youngster,  doesn't  cry  easUy, 
either. 

It  doesn't  hurt  any  radio  actress's  feelings  to  know 
that  several  thousand  friends  and  neighbors  are  lav- 
ishly proud  of  you. 

"And  don't  think  it  comes  easy  for  women  to  be 
so  proud  of  another  woman,"  one  of  her  friends  says. 
"When  they  first  came  here  twelve  years  ago  people 
were  surprised — to  say  the  least — to  learn  that  the 
new  clergyman's  wife  was   {Continued  on  page  90) 


No  career  problems  interfere  with  family  companionship. 


Florence  likes  massage,  or  practice  swings,  for  relaxation 


Florence  Freeman  is  Wendy  Warren,  M-F,  12  noon  EST,  CBS 
and  Young   Widder  Brown,   M-F,  4:45  P.  M.,    EST,   NBC. 


i\oux^yojute  DAYTIME  SERIAL  ACTRESS 


p 


No  skimpini!  on  kitchen  chores — Florence  enjoys  cooking  too  mail. 


and  th 


46 


Wendy  Warren  and  Widder  Brown  have  one  important  thing  in  common:  Florence  Freeman 


By  Rose  A.  Englander 


A  GROUP  of  women  sat  sewing  in  their  Red  Cross 
production  quarters.  The  tjime  of  this  scene  was 
the  war  years.  The  place,  the  vestry  room  of  a 
house  of  worship  in  Jersey  City,  a  large  New  Jersey 
community  just  across  the  river  from  New  York. 

Women  stood  at  long  tables  cutting  cloth  into  gar- 
ments; women  sewed  by  hand.  And  off  to  the  side 
whirred  the  quick  girls,  the  ones  who  could  make  a 
sewing  machine  fairly  fly. 

The  production  chief  looked  at  her  watch,  called 
to  one  of  the  machine  operators,  "Florence!  Time!" 

No  response.  Florence  bent  her  pretty  head  with 
its  mass  of  ash  blond  curls  over  her  work,  her  deljcate 
features  almost  frowning  in-  concentration.  Only 
when  nudged  did  she'  come  out  of  it. 

"Florence!   Get  going.  You'll  be  late  tor  rehearsal!" 

The  star  of  Young  Widder  Brown  grabbed  her  coat, 
head  kerchief,  purse,  her  carryr-all  bag  stuffed  with 
war  knitting,  and  ran.  The  women  shouted  "Good- 
bye .  .  .  Give  a  good  show  .  .  .  We'll  be  listening." 

They  certainly  told  the  truth.  At  4:45  their  dials 
were  set  daily  to  hear  Florence  Freeman  as  Ellen 
Brown,  the  young  widder.  Today  they  listen  to  two 
programs,  for  every  noon  Florence  becomes  Wendy 
Warren,  glamorous  newspaper  girl. 

That  people  listen  to  Florence  Freeman  isn't  news 


No  career  problems  interfere  with  family  compaiiionship. 


—as  witness  this  year's  Radio  Mirror  Award.  She's 
known  for  a  long  time  that  her  fans  are  scattered 
over  the  nation,  for  their  gifts— the  friendly,  home- 
made gifts  of  crochet  work  and  cookies  and  such- 
bear  postmarks  from  California,  New  England,  the 
Middle  West,  the  South. 

But  it's  fun  too  to  have  your  family  doctor  say, 
"Florence,  I  caught  your  show  in  tlie  car  today.  Now 
you  know  I  like  your  Dr.  Anthony  Loring  very  much, 
but  I  must  say  I  don't  agree  with  tlie  way  he's 
handling  this  case." 

It's  good  to  have  your  ten-year-old  daughter  Judy 
ask  earnestly,  "Mommy,  why  is  it  when  you're  sad 
on  the  radio  it  makes  Deana  and  me  cry,  but  when 
other  people  are  sad  we're  sorry  for  them  but  we 
don't  feel  like  crying?"  Deana,  sixteen  months 
younger  and  a  merry  youngster,  doesn't  cry  easily, 
either. 

It  doesn't  hurt  any  radio  actress's  feelings  to  know 
that  several  thousand  friends  and  neighbors  are  lav- 
ishly proud  of  you. 

"And  don't  think  it  comes  easy  for  women  to  be 
so  proud  of  another  woman,"  one  of  her  friends  says. 
"When  they  first  came  here  twelve  years  ago  people 
were  surprised— to  say  the  least — to  learn  that  the 
new  clergyman's  wife  was   (Continued  on  page  90) 


TOLEDO 


CLEVELAND 


ST.  LOUIS 


JANUARY  1949  wUl  be  a  month 
to  be  remembered  in  tele- 
vision. On  January  11,  at 
9:30  P.M.  EST.,  the  first  coaxial 
cable  was  opened  to  link  the 
eastern  TV  network  and  the  mid- 
west network,  with  ceremonies 
that  were  greeted  with  mixed 
emotions,  but  chiefly  with  won- 
derment and  enthusiasm. 

On  January  12  regular  pro- 
gramming began  both  east  and 
west  over  the  coax  and  the  cities 


which  are  connected  with  it  by 
radio  relay,  making  a  total  of 
fourteen  principal  cities  within 
the  two  nets.  Changes  in  days 
and  dates  of  existing  programs, 
and  additional  new  shows  began 
coming  so  thick  and  fast  that  your 
TV  editors  could — and  can — 
hardly  keep  up  with  them.  The 
baby  who  just  yesterday  was 
learning  to  walk  now  has  us  on 
the  run. 

On  January  20  the  inauguration 


ceremonies  of  a  president  and 
vice  president  of  the  United 
States  were  televised  for  the  first 
time  in  history  and  viewed  si- 
mvdtaneously  from  the  Atlantic 
coast  to  the  Mississippi  shore. 
The  far  west  saw.it  all  later  by 

I     kinescope  recording. 

Opening  night  on  the  coax,  as 
it  has  now  been  dubbed  for 
brevity  (and  pronounced  co-ax, 
as  if  hyphenated),  included  for- 

|m  mal,  but  (Continued  on  page  100) 

IL 


I      RADIO  RELAY 


49 


-Op- -5^ 


THE  FIRST 


ST.  LOUIS 


JANUARY  1949  will  be  a  month 
to  be  remembered  in  tele- 
vision. On  January  11,  at 
9:30  P.M.  EST.,  the  fii-st  coaxial 
cable  was  opened  to  link  the 
eastern  TV  network  and  the  mid- 
west network,  with  ceremonies 
that  were  greeted  with  mixed 
emotions,  but  chiefly  with  won- 
derment and  enthusiasm. 

On  January  12  regular  pro- 
gramming began  both  east  and 
west  over  the  coax  and  the  cities 


which  are  connected  with  it  by 
radio  relay,  making  a  toial  "' 
fourteen  principal  cities  withi" 
the  two  nets.  Changes  in  days 
and  dates  of  existing  progiiuii^' 
and  additional  new  shows  began 
coming  so  thick  and  fast  that  .V'"' 
TV  editors  could— and  can- 
hardly  keep  up  with  them.  Th' 
baby  who  just  yesterday  '■'■'^ 
learning  to  walk  now  has  us  on 
the  run. 

On  January  20  the  inauguration 


/ 


BOSTON 


BUFFALO 


Jr^  / 


NEW  YORK 


PHILADELPHIA 


ceremonies  of  a  president  and 
vice  president  of  the  United 
State'  were  televised  for  the  first 
time  iQ  history  and  viewed  si- 
multfMieously  from  the  Atlantic 
coast  to  the  Mississippi  shore. 
The  fjr  west  saw.it  all  later  by 

lescDpe  recording. 

Opening  night  on  the  coax,  as 
jt  ha;  now  been  dubbed  for 
orevii  /  (and  pronounced  co-ax, 
5s  if  yphenated),  included  for- 
""al,  hut  {Continued  on  page  100) 


WASHINGTON 


w 


RICHMOND 


COAXIAL  CABLE 


RADIO  RELAY 


Lucky  Pup  and  Jolo  can  now  be  seen  by  eastern  and  mid- 
dle-western viewers,  courtesy  of  the  new  east-midwest  cable. 


Hope  and  Morey  Bunin,  originators  and  owners  of  Lucky 
Pup,  are  also  responsible  for  their  expert  manipulation. 


Doris  Brown  emcees  the  activities  of  Lucky  and 
his  cohorts.  (That's  Foodini  on  her  shoxilder.) 


WHEN  Doris  Brown  got  a  chance  to  be  on  Barry 
Wood's  CBS-TV  show,  Places  Please,  she 
never  thought  she  was  being  discovered  to 
ptiay  mistress  of  ceremonies  to  Lucky  Pup,  Foo- 
dini, the  wicked  magician;  Pinhead,  a  dim-witted 
stooge,  and  Jolo  the  clown. 

And  just  a  little  while  ago,  when  Doris  turned 
her^  back  a  minute,  a  couple  of  new  characters 
sneaked  into  the  show.  One  of  these  is  Phineas 
Pitch,  a  circus  barker.  The  other's  a  fellow  named 
Hotchkiss,  a  butler  by  profession.  Lucky,  being  a 
big  shot  now,  seems  to  rate  one  of  those  things. 

We've  seen  some  other  shadowy  figures  hanging 
around  lately — probably  more  characters  trying  to 
get  into  the  act.  They'd  better  be  good,  if  they're 
going  to  get  past  Doris — and  the  Bunins. 

Hope  and  Morey  Bunin  own  the  puppets,  and  all 
of  them  were  discovered  at  the  Music  Hall  in  New 
York's  Radio  City,  while  they  were  playing  a  six- 
week  engagement.  CBS  signed  them  up  fast  for 
television,  and  now  they're  on,  Monday  through 
Saturday  from  6: 30  to  6: 45  P.M.  EST.,  not  too  late 
for  the  children  nor  too  early  for  father  to  catch  up 
with  them  before  he  reads  his  evening  paper.  Pop 
seems  to  appreciate  puppets  just  as  much  as  the 
kids  do.  At  least  he  does  these  puppets. 

Whereas  Howdy  Doody,  that  other  great  favorite 
of  the  kids  and  pop,  is  a  marionette  manipulated 
by  strings,  Lucky  Pup  and  his  playmates  are  hand 
puppets,  manipulated  by  the  Bunins'  fingers. 
They're  the  product,  too,  of  the  Bunins'  own  hands 
— made  by  their  master  and  mistress,  every  one  of 
them.  And  they've  traveled  all  over  the  world, 
have  made  homesick  servicemen  in  the  Pacific 
laugh  heartily  for  the  first  time  in  weeks,  made 
weary  infantrymen  in  Europe  forget  their  feet. 

They  make  us  forget  ours,  too.  And  we've  heard 
tell  that  it  isn't  only  the  puppets  Pops  like.  It's  the 
pulchritudinous  Doris  Brown  they  hurry  home  to 
see  on  their  TV  screens. 


RADIO   MIRROR   TELEVISION    SECTION 


50 


AND  THE  NEWS 


Jss-f-^rr--:-- 


Mrs.  Roosevelt,  with  plenty  of  radio  and  TV 
experience,  is  a  sought-after  TV  "interviewee." 


*-u:>,^V^!jWU. 


Even  straight  neWs  reports  are  more  diffi- 
cult on  TV;  script  cannot  be  too  obvigus. 


In  roving  interview,  Edwards  catches  Bernard  Bamch  and 
grandchild   on   Mr.  B's  f anions   "office":    a   park  bench. 

BEING  a  news  analyst  on  television  is  a  little  like  being 
an  actor,  even  if  you  don't  strike  poses.  You  do  have 
to  learn  that  script.  Douglas  Edwards  looks  at  his  now 
and  then  to  check  names  and  figures,  but  he  has  to  work 
mostly  from  memory.  Otherwise,  all  you'd  see  is  a  fellow 
looking  downward  while  he  reads.  Most  unimpressive,  even 
when  interspersed  with  film  clips,  pictures  and  maps. 

Easterners  see  and  hear  Edwards  on  CBS-TV  at  7:30 
weekday  nights.  Mid-westerners-  get  him  an  hour  later. 
What  you  see  is  a  five-foot-nine,  160-pounder,  with  sort  of 
sandy  hair  that  televises  darker  than  it  is.  He  looks  straight 
out  at  you  a  good  part  of  the  time,  and  tells  the  news  in 
easy  conversational  style. 

Very  deceptive,  that  style.  Makes  it  sound-  as  though 
someone  jtist  told  it  all  to  him,  and  he's  repeating  it  to  you. 
You'd  never  guess  he  had  spent  about  ten  hours  of  reading 
news  reports,  sifting,  preparing  for  this  telecast. 

Pre-video,  Doug  was  the  New  York  man  for  the  CBS 
World  News  Roundup  which  specializes  in  short-wave  re- 
ports from  overseas  reporters  six  mornings  a  week.  He  is 
still  featured,  five  noons  a  week,  on  Wendy»  Warren  and 
the  News. 

Want  to  know  how  he  started  in  broadcasting?  Well,  when 
he  was  twelve  he  used  to  practice  newscasting  into  a  tele- 
phone. When  he  and  his  pals  rigged  a  100-watt  station  he 
was  the  big  broadcaster — natch!  But  his  first  real  job  came 
later  when  he  took  on  a  regvdar  radio  reporting  stint  at 
WAGE,  in  Dothan,  Ala.,  in  1935.  He  has  been  with  CBS 
since  1942. 


RADIO   MIRROR 


TELEVISION 


SECTION 


51 


Americana  quiz,  conducted  by  Ben  Grauer  (Mon.,  9:30. EST, 
WNBT)  has  one  "regular"  (Vivian  Ferracci,  1),  three  visitors. 


Archdale  Jones  and  Val  Lewis  (center)  interview  client  on  Key 
to  the  Missing   (DuMont),  Fri.,  which  traces  missing  persons. 


.Ti»X"-Rli 


(ijmt  tb  (Ijmt  ui 


BOB  HOWARD  plays  a  rippling  piano  and  sings  'em 
sweet  and  low  five  times  a  week  over  the  WCBS-TV 
network  and  affiliates  at  6:45  EST.  He  makes  his 
own  arrangements  of  the  music  he  plays — ^mostly  pop- 
ular stuff  and  sentimental  ditties — and  he  interrupts 
himself  to  ad  lib  about  practically  anything  and  every- 
thing and  to  talk  about  his  sponsor's  product. 

New  Yorkers  knew  him  face  to  face  even  before  they 
met  him  on  TV.  He  plays  their  neighborhood  theaters, 
and  most  recently,  the  Capitol  Theater  on  Broadway. 
He  did  a  stretch  of  small  roles  in  movies,  too,  and  a 
Broadway  rim  in  the  play,  "Early  to  Bed,"  with  Rich- 
ard KoUmar. 

Bob  got  his  start  on. a  ukulele  and  went' on  from  there 
to  a  player  piano.  He  wotild  put  his  hands  on  the  keys 
and  follow  the  score,  then  turn  off  the  mechanical 
player  and  do  an  imitation.  He  still  does  it,  as  a  stunt. 


>£* 


..  haf  #  it  Worth?"  is  producer  Gil  Fates' 
queslion  lo  appraiser  Sigmuiul  Rothschild. 
CBS-TV.  Fri.,  8  P.M.  France.-,  Buss.  1.,  directs. 


RADIO   MIRROR   TELEVISION  SECTION 


Singer  Helen  Ryan,  a  regular  on 
WNBT's  Youth  on  Broadway,  re- 
cently did  a  special  telecast  from 
WNBK,  NBC's  Cleveland  TV  outlet. 


Bob  Howard's  piano  arrangements 
and  ad-libs  are  heard  five  days  a 
week  on  CBS-TV  at  6:45  P.M.,  EST. 


TELmSIOK 


All  this  went  on  back  in  Newton,  Mass.,  where  he  was 
born.  After  he  won  first  prize  in  an  amateur  contest 
he  decided  to  try  New  York.  Tillie's  Chicken  Grill,  on 
Harlem's  Lenox  Avenue,  was  one  of  his  first  stops.  He 
was  discovered  there  and  before  long  was  touring  this 
country  and  Europe,  capturing  audiences  with  his  songs, 
his  smile  and  his  tunes. 

Bob's  marriage  to  a  graduate  of  the  .New  England 
Conservatory  increased  his  interest  in  more  formal 
study,  and  he  got  good  coaching  frqm  his  wife  who  had 
majored  in  musical  the&ry  and  harmony.  That  pol- 
ished off  the  Howard  talent,  but  his  easy  style  is  all 
his  own. 

Besides  his  TV  work,  you  can  hear  Bob  sing  and 
play  his  own  accompaniments  on  Sing  It  Again,  the 
CBS  network  quiz  program.    {Continued  on  page  110) 


RADIO    MIRROR   TELEVISION  SECTION 


Artist  draws  clues,  quizmaster  Alan  Prescott    (1.)   stands  by 
to  quiz,  on  Quizzing  the  News,  ABC-TV  10:30  P.M.,  Thurs. 


Americonn  quiz,  conducted  by  Ben  Grauer  (Mon.,  9:30. EST, 
WNBT)  has  one  "regular"  (Vivian  Ferracci,  I),  three  visitors. 


Siiiper  Helen  Ryan,  a  regular  on 
WNUT's  Youlh  on  Broadway,  rc- 
'onlly  did  u  !>|)ecial  telecast  from 
WNBK.  NBC's  Cleveland  TV  outlet. 


Hob  Howard's  piano  orraiiRemenl!* 
and  ad-libs  arc  heard  five  days  a 
weeic  on  OBS-TV  at  6:45  P.M.,  EST. 


(iWt  to  duMAt  k 


BOB  HOWARD  plays  a  rippHng  piano  and  smgs  em 
sweet  and  low  five  times  a  week  over  the  W>-  BS-lv 
network  and  affiliates  at  6:45  EST.  He  nukes  his 
own  arrangements  of  the  music  he  plays— roosily  pop- 
ular stuiiE  and  sentimental  ditties— and  he  interrupts 
himself  to  ad  lib  about  practically  anything  and  every- 
thing and  to  talk  about  his  sponsor's  product. 

New  Yorkers  knew  him  face  to  face  even  before  tn  ) 
met  him  on  TV.  He  plays  their  neighborhood  IheateB, 
and  most  recently,  the  Capitol  Theater  on  Broadway- 
He  did  a  stretch  of  small  roles  in  movies,  too   Mia 
Broadway  run  in  the  play,  "Early  to  Bed,"  with  Ki 
ard  Kollmar.  ,  „( 

Bob  got  his  start  on. a  ukulele  and  went  on  tiom  u 
to  a  player  piano.   He  would  put  his  hands  on  the  K  ^ 
and   follow   the   score,   then   turn    off   the   mectiam 
player  and  do  an  imitation.  He  still  does  it,  as  a  sro" 


RADIO   MIRROR   TELEVISION  SECTION 


mMSioi 


All  this  went  on  back  in  Newton,  Mass.,  where  he  was 
born.  After  he  won  first  prize  in  an  amateur  contest 
he  decided  to  try  New  York.  Tillie's  Chicken  GrUl,  on 
Harlem's  Lenox  Avenue,  was  one  of  his  first  stops.  He 
was  discovered  there  and  before  long  was  touring  this 
country  and  Europe,  capturing  audiences  with  his  songs, 
his  smile  and  his  tunes. 

Bob's  marriage  to  a  graduate  of  the  New  England 
Conseivatory  increased  his  interest  in  more  formal 
study,  and  he  got  good  coaching  frgm  his  wife  who  had 
njajortd  in  musical  theory  and  harmony.  That  pol- 
ished oif  the  Howard  talent,  but  his  easy  style  is  all 
his  o«'n. 

Besides  his  T'V  work,  you  can  hear  Bob  sing  and 
play  .his  own  accompaniments  on  Sing  It  Again,  the 
CBS  network  quiz  program.    (Confimiied  on  page  110) 


ArllM   draws  rlncs,  quizmaHler  Alan  I'resroll    II.)    ^lIlMllh   liy 
In  qui/,,  on  QuiMitiB  ibc  News,  AllC-TV  10:;iO  I'M     T 


R^DIO    MIRROR   TELEVISION  SECTION 


Milton  Berle,  courageous  enough  to  pioneer  in  TV,  emerges  victorious — 
a  one-man  ariny  with  banners.     They're  calling  him  Mr.  Television! 


By   IRVING    GRAY 


HE'S  Mr.  Television.  Of  course,  I'd  rather 
call  him  Mr.  Show  Business,  because  I 
think  he's  tops  in  every  department.  You'd 
expect  that  from  me.  I'm  his  pal.  And,  inci- 
dentally, Mr.  Berle  is  my  business.  Don't  look 
now,  but  business  is  great. 

I  have  been  referred  to  as  Berle's  one-nr^an 
army — ^writing,  booking,  doing  pubUc  relations, 
sorting  his  socks,  laundering  his  shirts — and 
worrying  for  him.  I  guess  with  the  Hooper  he 
has  in  TV  my  worrying  days  are  over,  but  it 
didn't  come  easy. 

It  took  television  to  project  all  of  Milton's 
talents.  It  was  the  medium  for  him  to  use  all 
of  his  great  knowledge  of  show  business.  He 
has  proved  himself 'a  master  technician. 

It  all  started  last  June.  Myron  Kirk,  of  the 
Kudner  agency,  representing  Texaco,  foresaw 
the  success  of  Milton  in  television  and  signed 
him  to  do  four  shows.  The  rest  is  history. 

Pioneering  in  TV  was  as  tough  as  the  rugged 
days  of  the  Covered  Wagon.  All  alone,  facing 
the  uncertainty  of  a  vast  wilderness.  We  didn't 
know  where  we  were  going — or  how  soon  we 
were  going  to  get  there.  But  Milton  "Daniel 
Boone"  Berle  was  not  to  be  denied. 

Milton  was  an  instantaneous  hit.  He  opened 
an  entire  new  world  for  entertainment-seekers 
and  performers.  I  might  add  that  Milton's 
genius  was  completely  responsible  for  the  ar- 
tistic and  technical  success  of  the  Texaco 
Star  Theater. 

He's  the  sole  director  of  the  entire  show. 
He  has  created  new  gimmicks  to  facilitate  the 

Writer  Irving  Gray,  subject  Milton   Berle. 


speedy  production  of  a  one-hour  revue  that 
goes  into  production  at  twelve  noon  on  Tues- 
day and  is  completed  and  presented  at  eight 
that  evening.  Actually  he  is  presenting  a  pro- 
duction that  might  take  four  to  six  weeks  in 
Hollywood. 

Originally,  Milton  and  I  wrote  the  entire 
show.  As  things  began  to  snowball,  of  course, 
this  became  a  superhuman  job  and  now  we 
have  a  staff  of  top  v^rriters— Hal  Collins,  Jay 
Burton,  Bob  Gordon,  Jesse  Kaplan  and  Joe 
Erens.  But  Milton  and  I  are  still  in  the  writing 
department. 

Our  production  staff,  headed  by  Arthur 
Knorr  and  Ed  Cashman,  is  the  best — ^but  al- 
ways there  is  Mr.  Berle  to  pitch  in. 

Musically,  we  have  the  services  of  a  top- 
show  conductor,  Allen  Roth,  and  the  most 
capable  musicians  available.  Milton  occasion- 
ally handles  the  baton. 

We've  got  stage  hands,  but,  when  permitted, 
Milton  can  be  seen  shoving  scenery  around. 

And  we  get  top-drawer  talent.  Harry  Kal- 
cheim,  of  the  WiUiam  Morris  office,  is  official 
booker.  We  meet  weekly.  Milton  is  the  final 
word  on  talent.  "He  okays  the  appearance  of 
the  act  because  he  can,  quicker  than  anyone 
else,  see  the  complete  picttire.  He  knows  what 
makes  a  great  show  and  is  always  aware  of 
what  is  best  for  him. 

He'll  say  to  a  guest  star,  "You  do  whatever 
you  do  best.  You've  done  your  act  before. 
You  know  where  the  laughs  are."  When 
they   get   through    {Continued   on   page  108) 


54 


X 


Ijaax'^wAae  TELEVISION  PROGRAM 


Milton  Berle,  in   Texaco    Star   Theater,   is  seen 
and  heard  Tuesday  nights  at  8,  EST,  on  WNBT 


RADIO   MIRROR    TELEVISION    SECTIO 


\. 


9f%' 


Milton  Berle,  courageous  enough  to  pioneer  in  TV,  emerges  victorious — 
a  one-man  army  with  banners.     They're  calling  him  Mr.  Television! 

By   IRVING    GRAY 


HE'S  Mr.  Television.  Of  course,  I'd  rather 
call  him  Mr.  Show  Business,  because  I 
think  he's  tops  in  every  department.  You'd 
expect  that  from  me.  I'm  his  pal.  And,  inci- 
dentally, Mr.  Berle  is  my  business.  Don't  look 
now,  but  business  is  great. 

I  have  been  referred  to  as  Berle's  one-n^an 
army — writing,  booking,  doing  public  relations, 
sorting  his  socks,  laundering  his  shirts — and 
worrying  for  him.  I  guess  with  the  Hooper  he 
has  in  TV  my  worrying  days  are  over,  but  it 
didn't  come  easy. 

It  took  television  to  project  all  of  Milton's 
talents.  It  was  the  medium  for  him  to  use  all 
of  his  great  knowledge  of  show  business.  He 
has  proved  himself"a  master  technician. 

It  all  started  last  June.  Myron  Kirk,  of  the 
Kudner  agency,  representing  Texaco,  foresaw 
the  success  of  Milton  in  television  and  signed 
him  to  do  four  shows.   The  rest  is  history. 

Pioneering  in  TV  was  as  tough  as  the  rugged 
days  of  the  Covered  Wagon.  AH  alone,  facing 
the  uncertainty  of  a  vast  wilderness.  We  didn't 
know  where  we  were  going — or  how  soon  we 
were  going  to  get  there.  But  Milton  "Daniel 
Boone"  Berle  was  not  to  be  denied. 

Milton  was  an  instantaneous  hit.  He  opened 
an  entire  new  world  for  entertainment-seekers 
and  performers.  I  might  add  that  Milton's 
genius  was  completely  responsible  for  the  ar- 
tistic and  technical  success  of  the  Texaco 
Star  Theater. 

He's  the  sole  director  of  the  entire  show. 
He  has  created  new  gimmicks  to  facilitate  the 


Writer  Irving  Gray,  subject  Milton  Berle. 


speedy  production  of  a  one-hour  revue  that 
goes  into  production  at  twelve  noon  on  Tues- 
day and  is  completed  and  presented  at  eight 
that  evening.  Actually  he  is  presenting  a  pro- 
duction that  might  take  four  to  six  weeks  in 
Hollywood. 

Originally,  Milton  and  I  wrote  the  entire 
show.  As  things  began  to  snowball,  of  course, 
this  became  a  superhuman  job  and  now  we 
have  a  staff  of  top  writers — Hal  Collins,  Jay 
Burton,  Bob  Gordon,  Jesse  Kaplan  and  Joe 
Erens.  But  Milton  and  I  are  still  in  the  writing 
department. 

Our  production  staff,  headed  by  Arthur 
Knorr  and  Ed  Cashman,  is  the  best — but  al- 
ways there  is  Mr.  Berle  to  pitch  in. 

Musically,  we  have  the  services  of  a  top- 
show  conductor,  Allen  Roth,  and  the  most 
capable  musicians  available.  Milton  occasion- 
ally handles  the  baton. 

We've  got  stage  hands,  but,  when  permitted, 
Milton  can  be  seen  shoving  scenery  around. 

And  we  get  top-drawer  talent.  Harry  Kal- 
cheim,  of  the  William  Morris  office,  is  official 
booker.  We  meet  weekly.  Milton  is  the  final 
word  on  talent.  "He  okays  the  appearance  of 
the  act  because  he  can,  quicker  than  anyone 
else,  see  the  complete  picture.  He  knows  what 
makes  a  great  show  and  is  always  aware  of 
what  is  best  for  him. 

He'll  say  to  a  guest  star,  "You  do  whatever 
you  do  best.  You've  done  your  act  before. 
You  know  where  the  laughs  are."  When 
they    get   through    (Continued    on   page  108) 


'?|oax^wAite  TELEVISION  PROGRAM 


Milton   Berle.  id    Texaco    Star    Theater,    in  seen 
and  heurd  Tuesday  nights    at  8,  EST,  on  WNBl 


RADIO   MIRROR    TELEVISION    SECTION 


;;s 


it  O- 


M 


ffl  E  ^  KE  LTO  M  SAGA 


From  the  father  he  never  saw.  Red  inherited  two 


weapons:    a  stick  of  greasepaint,  a  pair  of  clown's  trousers. 


With  them,  he  began  to  fight  for  what  he  wanted 


By  PAULINE  SW ANSON 


EVERYBODY  calls  him  Junior. 
Women  who've  never  met  him  knit  him 
socks  and  bake  him  cakes.    Women  who 
know  him  well  and  love  him  take  care  of  him 
as  though  he  were  indeed  a  child. 

He's  like  a  child  in  many  ways,  guileless 
and  irrepressible,  or  rather  like  a  big,  friendly 
puppy,  loving  everybody  matter  of  factly  and 
taking  it  for  granted  that  everybody  loves  him 
back.  And  everybody  does,  too,  everybody, 
including  the  readers  of  Radio  Mirror,  who 
have  just  voted  Red  Skelton's  show  their 
favorite  comedy  program. 

Like  so  many  other  stories  of  the  great 
comics  of  our  times,  the  story  of  Red  Skelton 
begins  with  tragedy.  It  is  the  story  of  a 
perennial  child  with  perennial  man-sized  re- 
sponsibilities. It  is  a  success  story,  checkered 
with  failures;  a  story  full  of  contradictions  in 
which  the  biggest  laughs  light  up  the  hardest 
years,  and  the  lump  in  the  throat  bows  in 
along  with  ultimate  triumph. 

It  would  make  a  pip  of  a  movie,  the  Red 
Skelton  story — and  it  could  be  simply  titled, 
"The  Clown." 

Red's  father  was  a  clown,  but  the  boy  never 
knew  him.  Joe  Skelton  was  killed  in  a  freak 
accident  under  the  big  tent  a  month  before 


Red  was  bom.     But  he  left  Red  something. 

So  far  as  anyone  knows,  Joe  Skelton — and 
Red — were  the  only  performers  in  the  family. 
But  Red  got  the  itch  for  grease  paint,  and  got 
it  bad,  from  the  father  he  never  saw. 

His  father's  costumes  and  props  and  make- 
up were  his  favorite  toys  from  the  timie  he  was 
old  enough  to  toddle.  They  were  his  only  toys, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  for  Ida  Skelton  had  all  she 
cotild  do  to  feed  her  four  sons — all  under  ten 
when  Joe  died.  Luxuries,  even  some  neces- 
sities, were  out  of  the  question. 

Like  most  show  folk  in  those  days,  Joe 
Skelton  died  broke.  Ida  was  left  v^ath  the  little 
one-story  frame  house — and  its  mortgage — in 
Vincennes,  Indiana,  and  enough  insurance 
money  to  give  Joseph  a  decent  funeral. 

Red  was  still  in  swaddling  clothes,  sleeping 
in  his  hand-me-down  cradle,  when  Ida  went 
out  to  work,  scrubbing  floors  in  downtown 
office  buildings  at  night,  running  an  elevator 
by  day. 

The  older  boys,  Denny  and  Chris  and  Paul, 
took  care  of  little  Richard,  already  tagged 
"Red,"  fed  him  and  changed  him  and  rocked 
him  to  sleep.  And  when  Ida  came  home  tired 
from  work,  they  rubbed  her  sore  feet  while 
she    relaxed,    for    a    brief    interlude,    in    the 


'llcwCfiyc'utk  COMEDY  PROGRAM 


This  novelette-length  biography  of  Red  Skelton  id  the  April  Radio  Mirror  Reader  Bonus. 


56 


Red  Skelton  is  heard  Friday  nights  at  9:30  EST,  on  NBC 


^KELTOH 
SAGA 


continued 


In  1934,  at  Loew's  in  Montreal,  Red  got  his  first  vaudeville  break.    After  this  the 


With  announcer  Ned  Lefevre  and  Red  is  Rod  O'Con- 
nor (  right  )  ex-announcer,  now  Red's  "straight  man." 


front  porch  swing,  and  warmed  up  the  luncheon  soup 
to  give  her  a  hot  supper. 

Ida  Skelton  was — and  still  is — a  remarkable  woman.. 

She  wasted  no  time  worrying  about  her  sons' 
growing  up  on  their  own. 

"I  have  raised  you  to  know  right  from  wrong,"  she 
used  to  tell  them  in  her  rich  Irish  brogue.  "I  trust 
you  to  do  right." 

She  never  gave  them  advice — vmless  they  asked 
for  it.   And  that  rule  still  goes. 

And  although  actually  they  "ran  loose"  all  their 
growing  up  years,  not  one  of  Ida's  fotir  boys  ever 
got  into  trouble. 

The  family  had  its  own  scraps — "noisy,  Irish  fights," 
Ida  puts  it — as  "noisy,  Irish  famiUes  Avill." 

"There  was  practically  never  anything  we  agreed 
about.  But  jtist  let  an  outsider  try  to  criticize  any 
one  of  us — and  watch  out!" 

Violent  antagonists  in  the  living  room,  the  boys 
were  just  as  violently  loyal  to  one  another  once  they 
faced  the  outside  world.  And  it's  still  like  that. 

One  by  one,  as  they  grew  big  enough  for  long  pants, 


58 


In  1936,  Red  and  Edna  had  to  use  "leg  art" 
in    tboir   pictures    to    get    newspaper    space. 


By  1937,  Red  and  Edna  were  booked 
in  Chicago — better  paid,  better  dressed. 


Red's  second  marriage  made  him  a  family  man.     Valentina 
Marie,  shown  below  when  she  was  an  infant,  is  now  almost  two. 


RADIO  MIRROR 
READER  BONUS 


States    wanted    him 


the  four  brothers  went  of?  to  work  themselves,  and 
brought  back  their  slim  pay  envelopes  so  Mom 
wovildn't  have  to  work  so  hard.  Red's  turn  came 
when  he  was  ten,  and  he  ran  away  from  town  with 
a  medicine  show. 

School  had  been  an  ordeal,  but  this  man's  job  was 
heaven  to  Joe  Skelton's  son,  who  had  known  all 
along  that  he  too  had  to  be,  would  somehow  manage 
to  be,  a  clown. 

For  four  years,  Red — in  blackface  and  his  father's 
cut-dx)wn  floppy  pants — sold  Dr.  R.  E.  Lewis'  "Famous 
Miracle  Remedy"  on  street  corners  and  vacant  lots 
in  every  one-horse  town  in  the  middle  west. 

He  worked  twelve  hours  a  day,  seven  days  a  week, 
and  he  made  $10  a  week,  which  he  sent  home  un- 
broken every  Satiu^day  to  his  mother. 

"We  get  plenty  to  eat,  and  we  sleep  in  the  wagon," 
he  wrote  home.  What  more— so  long  as  the  audiences 
laughed — could  an  actor  want? 

At  fifteen,  he  landed  in  the  Gaiety  Theater  in 
Kansas  City,  the  youngest  comedian  in  burlesque, 
and  the  strip-tease  queens,   (Continued  on  page  93) 


JB. 


MUAMMUIKt 

OFCOMUry 


MLTOH 
SAGA 


continued 


msi^:  Ji 


In  1936,  Red  and  Edtui  Imi.I  t.>  use  "leg  iirl" 
in   their   pictures   lo   gel   iicw»i>ii|ier   space. 


liy    I":I7.   Il.d  iind  Kdiu<  wi-rc  hooked 
in  ChifiiBD-  l>etH'i  iiiiid,  heller  dressed. 


Red's  second  nmrriiiKe  made  liini  a  (mnily  man.     Vidcnlinu 
Marie,  shown  hclow  when  slie  was  an  infant,  is  now  ahnost  two. 


RADIO   MIRROR 
READER  BONUS 


In  1934,  at  Loew's  in  Monlreal,  Red  got  his  first  v.iudeville  hreak.    After  l!      the  Stales    wanted    him. 


With  announcer  Ned  Lefevre  and  Red  is  Rod  O'Con- 
nor (  ri()hl  )  ex-announcer,  now  Red's  "straipht  man." 


58 


front  porch  swing,  and  warmed  up  the  luncheon  s   up 
to  give  her  a  hot  supper. 

Ida  Skelton  was — and  still  is — a  remarkable  woman. 

She  wasted  no  time  worrying  about  her  sons' 
growing  up  on  their  own. 

"I  have  raised  you  to  laiow  right  from  wrong,"  <he 
used  to  tell  them  in  her  rich  Irish  brogue.  "I  ti  ust 
you  to  do  right." 

She  never  gave  them  advice — unless  they  asied 
for  it.   And  that  rule  still  goes. 

And  although  actually  they  "ran  loose"  all  their 
growing  up  years,  not  one  of  Ida's  four  boys  ever 
got  into  trouble. 

The  family  had  its  own  scraps — "noisy,  Irish  fights, 
Ida  puts  it — as  "noisy,  Irish  families  will." 

"There  was  practicaUy  never  anything  we  agreed 
about.  But  just  let  an  outsider  try  to  criticize  any 
one  of  us — and  watch  out!" 

Violent  antagonists  in  the  living  room,  the  boys 
were  just  as  violently  loyal  to  one  another  once  they 
faced  the  outside  world.   And  it's  still  like  that. 

One  by  one,  as  they  grew  big  enough  for  long  pants, 


the  four  brothers  went'ofi  to  work  themselves,  and 
brought  back  their  slim  pay  envelopes  so  Mom 
wouldn't  have  to  work  so  hard.  Red's  turn  came 
when  he  was  ten,  and  he  ran  away  from  town  with 
a  medicine  show. 

School  had  been  an  ordeal,  but  this  man's  job  was 
heaven  to  Joe  Skelton's  son,  who  had  known  ^U 
along  that  he  too  had  to  be,  would  somehow  manage 
to  be,  a  clown. 

F'>i;  four  years.  Red — in  blackface  and  his  father's 
<:ut-down  floppy  pants — sold  Dr.  R.  E.  Lewis'  "Famous 
Miiacle  Remedy"  on  street  corners  and  vacant  lots 
in  every  one-horse  town  in  the  middle  west. 

He  worked  twelve  hours  a  day,  seven  days  a  week, 
^ifl  he  made  $10  a  week,  which  he  sent  home  un- 
hi<>':en  every  Saturday  to  his  mother. 

'  Ve  get  plenty  to  eat,  and  we  sleep  in  the  wagon," 
he  '  Tote  home.  What  more — so  long  as  the  audiences 
lauthed — could  an  actor  want? 

■'■■<  fifteen,  he  landed  in  the  Gaiety  Theater  in 
Ktii'sas  City,  the  youngest  comedian  in  burlesque, 
anrt  the  strip-tease  queens,   {Continued  on  page  93) 


11 


met 


Cy  Howard  originated,  produces 
and    directs    My    Friend    Irma. 


/^Tlie  jSe^t:  COMEDY  STORY  PROGRAM 


By  CY  HOWARD 


I  WISH  I  could  say,  that  there  is — or  was, 
in  my  past — one  real  Irma.  That  she  was 
an  incredibly  beautiful  girl  wh,o  broke  my 
heart  when  I  was  a  youth,  and  that  the  radio 
program  is  a  sort  of  monument  to  the  great 
love  of  my  life. 

Being  the  creator-producer  of  My  Friend 
Irma,  it  would  be  very  nice  to  be  able  to  say 
that  in  answer  to  the  hundreds  of  people  who 
write  to  me,  saying,  "You  must  be  a  wonder- 
fully happy  married  man  with  a  lovely  wife 
and  six  beautiful  children."  But  the  truth  is 
that  there  was  no  one  real  Irma  and  the 
further  truth  is  that  I'm  a  thirty-two-year- 
old  divorced  bachelor,  I'm  disgusted  with 
women,  so  I  put  two  of  them  into  a  radio 
program  and  let  them  both  suffer. 

A  less  interesting,  less  romantic  truth  is 
that  there  was — and  still  is — a  real  Mrs. 
O'Reilly,  however,  and  a  real  Mrs.  O'Reilly's 
boarding  house.  (There  had  to  be — how 
could  a  man  in  his  right  mind  make  up  a 
thing  like  that?)     But  more  of  that  later  .  .  . 

As  for  Irma,  I  made  her  the  beautiful-but- 
dumb  blonde  type  who  really  is  smarter  than 
the  girls  who  make  fun  of  her.  Next  I 
created  Jane,  the  girl  who  lives  with  Irma 
and  loves  her,  but  frequently  is  even  more 
stupid.  To  make  it  worse,  I  gave  Jane  a 
masculine  mind.  In  fact,  Jane  is  me — she 
uses  my  brains.  So  I  have  two  girls — ^Irma 
and  Jane.  And  I'd  rather  write  about  them 
than  marry  them,  thank  you. 

If  you  want  to  know  how  My  Friend  Irma 
came  to  be,  you  have  to  go  back  with  me  a 


few  years,  because  a  lot  of  the  Irma  people 
I  met  along  the  way,  and  a  lot  of  the  situa- 
tions in  which  Irma  and  her  friends  find 
themselves  I  found  myself  in,  too.  You  have 
to  go  back  with  me,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  to 
the  real  Mrs.  O'Reilly's  boarding  house  in 
New  York  City.  Dear  old  Mrs.  O'Reilly,  the 
aristocrat  of  73rd  Street.  She  had  a  face  like 
a  ploughed  field  and  a  heart  bigger  than  all 
outdoors.  There  were  lace  curtains  on  the 
first  floor  of  her  old  brownstone  front  and 
from  that  floor  up  it  didn't  bear  investi- 
gation. I  was  the  inmate  of  the  third  floor 
front.  Mrs.  O'Reilly  had  the  nerve  to  call 
it  a  "suite"  because  I  had  a  screen  which' 
turned  the  one  room  into  two.  But  there  was 
a  gold  chandelier  on  one  side  of  the  screen 
which  created  an  air  of  ancient  elegance.  On 
the  other  side  was  a  fireplace  which  worked 
when  you  had  four  bits  for  wood.  If  you 
didn't,  it  was  a  cold,  hard  winter. 

So  it  was  a  cold,  hard  winter. 

Mrs.  O'Reilly  knew  before  I  did  when  I'd 
be  going  out.  Only  dropping  dead,  which  she 
never  did,  wovdd  have  prevented  her  from 
appearing  in  the  ghostly  lower  haU  out  of 
nowhere  and  munnuring  in  sepulchral  tones: 
"Mr.  Howard,  cotild  I  trouble  you  for  the 
rent?" 

My  inevitable,  only  possible  reply  was, 
"Don't  worry  about  it  for  a  morrient,  Mrs. 
O'Reilly.  I'm  seeing  George  Kaufman  about 
a  new  play  in  the  morning." 

This  was  breaking  Mrs.  O'Reilly's  heart. 
Broadway    was    {Continued    on    page  74) 


My  Friend  Irma  is  heard  Monday  nights  at  10  P.  M.  EST,  on  the  CBS  network. 


61 


'*^> 


/Ki 


The  Most  Important  Hiings 

With  the  helping  hand  he  reached  out  toward  young  talent, 
Horace  Heidt  pulled  himself  back  to  the  top 


By  M.  A.  McCANN 


I  IKE  a  heavyweight  boxing  contender,  Horace 
I  Heidt  has  many  times  been  counted  out  but 
always  has  come  back  to  challenge  again. 
Into  his  present  successful  radio  comeback,  he 
has  again  brought  a  competitive  spirit,  a  shrewd 
business  sense  and  a  driving  ambition  to  endure 
longer  working  hours  and  more  strenuous  road 
tours  than  most  men  in  the  entertainment  field. 

"Kites  fly  highest  against  wind,"  wrote  Emer- 
son and  it  is  Horace's  favorite  quotation.  His 
kite  has  bobbed  erratically  at  times  and  he  has 
seen  sudden  calms  when  it  crashed  to  earth. 
Each  time,  he  has  had  the  perseverance  to  build 
another  kite  and  look  for  better  flying  conditions. 

Until  Horace  broke  his  back  in  a  football 
game  at  the  University  of  California,  his  ambi- 
tion was  to  be  a  great  athlete  and  coach.  He 
had  been  luckier  than  most  boys  for  he  had 
the  physique  and  stamina  for  rough  and  tumble 
games.  Only  at  his  mother's  insistence  did  he 
practice  the  piano  daily. 

He  was  sent  to  Culver  Military  Academy  and 
loved  the  school,  but  here  again  his  parents' 
permission  to  stay  at  Ciilver  was  contingent  on 
continuing  his  music  lessons.  A  few  years  later 
he  was  grateful  for  his  mother's  guidance.  That 
was  after  the  accident  on  the  football  field. 

"No  more  football  for  you,"  the  doctor  said. 
"No  mare  sports  of  any  kind  for  a  long  time." 

That  was  one  time  Horace  saw  the  kite  string 


slip  from  his  hand  and  his  ambitions  disappear 
over  the  horizon.  Till  that  point  he  had  put 
every  ounce  of  effort  into  conditioning  himself 
for  greater  glories  on  the  playing  field.  Sud- 
denly he  was  all  washed  up.  He  was  alone. 
Even  his  father,  who  had  once  been  able  to 
offer  him  excellent  contacts,  had  suffered  a 
business  reverse.  To  pay  for  his  education,  to 
help  support  his  mother  and  youngest  brother, 
Horace  turned  to  the  piano  and  played  dance 
music. 

Horace  Heidt  and  His  Californians  was  the 
name  of  his  first  band.  After  graduation  he 
got  the  pit  job  in  the  Golden  Gate  Theater  in 
San  Francisco.  But  their  music  was  secondary; 
another  band  was  hired  for  the  prominent  spot 
on  the  stage.  Horace's  problem  was  to  get  his 
band  out  of  the  pit  and  behind  the  footlights. 
He  solved  this  by  suggesting  a  way  that  the 
theater  manager  could  save  $1500  a  week.  The 
policy  of  having  an  extra  band  on  the  stage 
was  discontinued,  the  pit  closed  and  the  Cali- 
fornians moved  into  the  spotlight. 

Horace  created  new  specialty  numbers  that 
proved  to  be  very  successful  with  San  Fran- 
ciscans and  the  idea  of  using  only  one  orchestra 
proved  to  be  very  popular  with  other  theater 
managers.  Shortly,  Horace  was  offered  a  year's 
contract  at  the  Center  Theater  in  New  York. 
He  felt  the  wind  tugging  (Continued  on  page  88) 


Night  With  Horace  Heidt  !•  beard  Sunday*,  7  P.M.  EST,  NBC 


2 


^oux^nUte  AMATEUR  SHOW 


Mr.<.  H.:   iravoUng  companion 


63 


Be  sure  to  listen  to  Ted 
Malone's  program  Monday 
through  Friday  mornings 
at    11:30    EST    over    ABC 


Hello  There: 

An   April   page   of   poetry   should   include   almost   everything    .    .    .    because 

April   does! 
Showers   and   rainbows    .    .   .   spring   cleaning    and   spring   hats    .    .    .    and   of 

course  .  .  .  love  .   .  .  because   it's  usually   in  April  "a   young   man's  fancy 

lightly  turns  .  .  ." 
And  then,  in  certain  years  .  .  .  Aprils  are  special  because  they  also  hold  the 

Miracle  of  Easter. 
April  is  rich  with  all  these  things  this  year,  and  if  you  will  read  closely,  you 

will  see  the  poets  have  included  them  all  in  their  April  songs  for  you. 

—TED  MALONE 


A' 


Radio  Mirror's  Prize  Poem 


MUSEUM  PIECE 


In   charge   of  the    Museum   now  thirty  years, 
Miss    Prentis   welcomed    visitors   who    came 
To  gaze  upon  the  ancient  rarities, 
Of  which  she   knew  the  history  and   name. 
One  day  a  group  of  girls  were  gazing  through 
The    dimly    lighted    rooms    with    weary    eyes, 
When  suddenly  Miss  Prentis  sow  one  pause 
And    point   at  something   with   exultant  cries. 
"Oh,   girls,   look!   See  this  and    have  a   laugh!" 
"How    could    one    wear    it    and    still    catch    her 

man?" 
"Out    of    this    world!    Methuselah's    wife,    no 

doubt!" 
"Lei's  snap  a   picture  of  it,  if  we  con!" 
Miss  Prentis  wondered  what  the  girls  had  seen 
To    stir   them    to    such    interest    as   that    .    .    . 
She  rose  to  look.  The  girls  were  grouped   about 
An  old   glass  case  on  which  she'd  left  her  hat! 


CONFESSION 

If  love  had  never  found  my  door 
I  might  have  never  guessed 
What  wonder  evening  held  in  store — 
The  heaven  of  your  breast. 

I  might  have   mourned   the   barren  year 
And  found  the  days  too  long 
If  I  had  never  thrilled  to  hear 
The  music  of  your  song. 

I  might  have  walked  a  lonely  shore 
With  bitterness  for  wine 
If  love  had  never  found  my  door 
And  brought  your  lips  to  mine. 


C4 


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ifv%v\^y 


POEM  TO  BE  PINNED  IN  A  PURSE 

So   carefully   we    learn   ■frugality 
Who  need  to,   penny  saved  by  penny  earned, 
That  we've  forgotten,   or  have  never  learned. 
How    bracing    some    extravagance    con    be. 
You    may    renew   your   courage    with    ballet, 
I    may    be    happier   for   a    lovely    print 
That     I     could     ill     afford     for     many    a     day; 
You    may   walk   tall    and    confident    by   dint 
Of    some    enchanting    hot,    I,    of    the    drift 
Of    some    elusive    fragrance,    trailing    after — 
But  oh,    no   matter   what   it  takes   to    lift 
The     heart,     relight    the    faith,    or    sweeten 

laughter. 
No  matter  what  the  need  we  have  of  bread, 
Sometimes    let    us    buy    hyacinths,    instead. 

— Elaine  V.   Emons 


RAINY  DAY 

She  saved  them  for  a  rainy  day: 

A  crimson  satin  bow; 
Two  velvet  roses — somewhat  w^orn — 

"To  trim  a  hat,  you  know  .  .  ." 
A  few  bright  buttons  tucked  away; 

And  here  a  strand  or  two 
Of  crystal  beads — the  catch  was  gone- 

Somehow  they'd  see  her  through. 

She  never  had  much  time  to  think 

About  her  own  affairs. 
Who  always  lent  a  sturdy  hand 

To  other  people's  cares. 
Now  she  is  dead,  it  makes  me  cry 

To  hum  her  little  song. 
She  never  knew  most  people  thought 

It  rained  her  whole  life  long. 
—Harriet  Scott 


\1 


TO   A   GIRL   WEEPING 

You've  called  him  false  and  fickle; 

In  tearful  rage  you've  railed 
Against  your  fair  successor. 

But  come,  admit  you've  failed. 

I  know  your  rival's  triumph 

Is  harsh  as  April  frost, 
But  child,  love  can't  be  stolen; 

Love  only  can  be  lost. 

— Georgie  Starbuck  Galbraith 


BROOM    CLOSET 

You'll  see  baskets  and  nails. 

Curtain  rods,  mats. 
Five-gallon  pails. 

Ten-gallon  hats. 
Frayed  magazines. 
Parts  of  machines 
And  a  million  things  more. 
When  you  open  the  door  .  .  . 

In  fact,  you  can  safely  assume 
You'll  find  anything  there  but 
a  broom! 


WHIST  CLUB  ARISTOCRAT 

Wealthy,  old  Miss  Emily 
Is  the  milliner's  despair; 

She's  worn  the  same  old  style  for 
Yea-s — perched  on  her  cher- 
ished hair. 

Velvet  toque  for  wintertime 
With  crocheted  grapes  upon  it; 

Cabbage  rose  sunk  in  maline 
Is  June's  aspiring  bonnet. 

Tiered  concoctions  rivaling 
Bakery   specials   a-la-mode; 

Delectable,   covered-dish 

Affai-s,  crimped  and  wreathed 
like  Spode. 

Veiled  and  crowned  Miss  Emily 
Thinks  modern  hats  are 
"funny — " 
(I'll  bet  if  she  could  wear  one 
She'd  part  with  half  her 
money!) 

Holen  D.nrbv  Bcrninc 


K  VDIO  MIRROR  WILL  PAY  FIFTY  DOLLARS 

for  the  best  original  poem  sent  in  each  month  by  a  reader. 
ri\e  dollars  will  be  paid  for  each  other  original  poem  used 
on  Between  the  Bookends  pages  in  Radio  Mirror.  Limit 
poems  to  30  lines,  address  to  Ted  Malone,  Radio  Mirror, 
205  E.  42,  N.  Y.  17,  N.  Y.  When  postage  is  enclosed, 
e\  cry  effort  will  be  made  to  return  unused  manuscripts. 
1  his  is  not  a  contest,  but  an  offer  to  purchase  poetry  for 
our  Bookends  pages. 


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Haven't   you   often   longed 


THE  PROBLEM  submitted  to  readers  for 
answering  last  month  was:  What  consid- 
erations do  you  think  are  most  important 
to  a  widow,  with  two  young  children,  who  is 
contemplating  a  second  marriage.  The  read- 
er who,  in  the  opinion  of  Radio  Mirror's 
editors,  submitted  the  most  interesting  and 
comprehensive  answer  to  that  question  is 
Mrs.  Francis  O.  Bassett  of  1822  Seventh  Ave- 
nue, Troy,  New  Yorlc.  A  check  for  $25.00  has 
been  mailed  to  Mrs.  Bassett.  Here  is  her 
prize-winning  answer: 

"The  mother  must  be  sure  she  truly  loves 
the  man,  and  likes  his  way  of  dealing  with 
her  children.  She  must  be  sure  the  children 
do  not  resent  him;  they  must  respect  and  en- 
joy their  new  father-to-be,  and  adjust  to  the 
fact  that  he  will  take  the  place  of  their  own 
father,  especially  if  they  remember  that  fath- 
er. The  man  must  feel  equal  to  the  financial 
responsibility  of  a  ready-made  family  and 
genuinely  willing  to  work  to  make  the  chil- 
dren fond  of  him.  He  must  also  be  willing  to 
spare  time  for  the  children  as  well  as  for  the 
the  wife." 

And  now,  here  are  the  problems  which  I 
have  chosen,  because  of  their  interest  and 
general  appeal,  to  answer  this  month: 

BEING  ATTRACTIVE 

Dear  Joan  Davis: 

I  admire  your  way  of  solving  problems  that 
confront  you.  In  this  letter  I  am  seeking  help 
with  a  problem  in  my  marriage,  and  that  is: 
How  can  I  attract  my  husband  so  that  he  will 
be  more  affectionate  toward  me?  Also,  how 
may  I  act  so  that  he'll  think  I'm  the  most 
wonderful  person  in  the  world?  We  have 
been  married  five  years.  We  truly  love  each 
other,  but  I  would  like  my  husband  to  be 
more  affectionate  and  take  me  out  more 
often. 

Edna  W. 

Dear  Edna  W: 

Did  you  ever  stop  to  think  of  this?  Your 
husband  must  think  that  you  are  the  most 
wonderful  person  in  the  world,  or  he  wouldn't 
have  married  you!  So  I  wouldn't,  as  long  as 
you  are  happy  with  him  and  he  with  you, 
worry  about  that  for  a  minute.    As  for  his 


^  ^     -5^ 


Hr  $ 


for  a  sympathetic  counselor?    Bring  your  problems  to  Joan  Davis 


being  more  affectionate,  taking  you  out  more 
often — try  to  see  his  side  of  the  picture,  as 
well.  A  man  who  has  worked  hard  all  day 
doesn't  feel  too  much  like  going  out  in  the 
evening.  Why  don't  you  have  a  little  talk 
with  him,  and  make  arrangements  for  a  regu- 
lar evening  out,  once  or  twice  a  week?  Ex- 
plain to  him  that  you're  cooped  up  in  the 
house  all  day,  that  you  need  some  fun  and 
diversion — I'm  sure  he'll  agree  with  you.  As 
for  being  affectionate — I'm  sure,  my  dear, 
from  the  tone  of  your  letter  that  your  hus- 
band does  feel  very  affectionate  toward  you. 
But  some  people  are  just  naturally  more 
demonstrative  than  others;  some  people  seem 
to  be  almost  incapable  of  displaying  their 
emotions.  Have  you  tried  to  draw  out  his  af- 
fection by  a  display  of  it  on  your  part?  If 
you  want  to  be  attractive  to  him — be  attrac- 
tive— always  neatly  dressed,  waiting  for  him 
when  he  comes  home  at  night,  and  as  neatly 
dressed  across  from  the  breakfast  table  next 
morning.  Are  you  as  careful  of  your  appear- 
ance now  as  you  were  when  he  fell  in  love 
with  you,  five  years  ago?  If  not,  there's  room 
for  improvement.  But  believe  me,  Edna, 
you're  a  lucky  girl  to  have  a  husband  as  nice 
as  yours  sounds — don't  brood  over  trouble 
which  only  seems  to  be  trouble  to  you  be- 
cause your  marriage  is  running  smoothly — 
because  you  really  haven't  any  troubles  at 
all! 

Joan  Davis 

"I  LOVE  THEM  MORE  THAN  ANYTHING!" 

Dear  Joan  Davis: 

I  wish  with  all  my  heart  I  could  be  as  happy 
as  you!  I  have  been  married  eight  years  to  a 
wonderful  husband,  and  have  two  fine  chil- 
dren, a  boy,  eight,  and  a  girl,  four.  I  love 
them  and  my  husband  very  much,  but  for  the 
last  four  years  I  have  been  sick  with  heart 
trouble.  I  know  you  can't  help  me  with  that 
— only  my  doctor  can.  But  my  husband 
thinks  I  don't  love  him  and  the  children  any 
more,  because  I  do  feel  ill  so  often  and  some- 
times I  don't  even  feel  like  talking  to  them. 
I  just  want  to  be  alone  and  don't  want  any- 
one around. 

My  husband  works  very  hard  on  a  farm  and 
doesn't  earn  much  money.  With  the  children 
to  feed  and  clothe   {Continued  on  page  106) 


Each  month  Joan  Davis  will  answer  your  ques- 
tions on  any  problems  concerning  marriage, 
except  problems  of  health  or  law.  No  letters 
can  be  answered  personally.  Joan  will  choose 
from  these  letters  each  month  a  problem 
which  she  will  ask  you,  the  readers,  to  answer. 


RADIO  MIRROR  WILL  PAY  .$25.00 

to  the  person  whose  problem 
letter  is  chosen  and 

ANOTHER  $25.00  WILL  BE  PAID 

to  the  person  submitting  the  best  answer  to 
that  problem  in  the  opinion  of  the  editors, 
whose  decision  will  be  final.  No  letters  will 
he  returned.  Address  Joan  Davis,  Radio 
Mirror  Magazine,  205  East  42nd  Street,  New 
York  17,  N.  Y.  Prize  answers,  with  the  name 
of  the  winner,  will  be  printed  each  month. 
Winner  of  the  prize  for  the  month's  best 
problem  will  be  notified  by  mail,  as  those  who 
submit  problems  usually  prefer  not  to  have 
their  names  used  in  the  magazine. 

Here  is  this  month's  problem: 


A  widow  has  lived  with  her  son  for  some  time. 
Note  the  son  is  to  be  married,  and  the  widow 
does  not  wish  to  live  with  her  son  and  new 
daughter-in-law.  She  is  not  able  to  do  any 
sort  of  hard  work.  She  says,  "I  do  think 
marriages  are  better  if  the  young  people  can 
start  out  by  themselves.  What  can  I  do?" 
What  is  your  answer  to  this  problem? 


67 


p 


63 


All  Times  Below  Are  Eastern  Time 
For  Correct  CENTRAL  STANDARD  TIME,  Subtract  One  Hour 


A.IV1. 

NSC 

Mas 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 

Earl  Wild 

Carolina  Calling 

9:00 
9:13 
9:30 
9:45 

jtory  to  Order 
jach  Aria  Group 

Tone  Tapestries 

Chamber  Music 
Society 

Sunday  Morning 
Concert  Hall 

News 

E.  Power  Biggs 

Trinity  Choir  of 
St.  Paul's  Chapel 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 
10:45 

Mational  Radio 

Pulpit 
Organ  Recital 

Richard  Crooks 

Radio  Bible  Class 
Voice  of  Prophecy 

Message  of  Israel 
Southernalres 

Church  of  the  Air 
Church  of  the  Air 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

News  Highlights 
Solitaire  Time 

Christian  Reform 

Church 
Reviewing  Stand 

Fine  Arts  Quartette 
Hour  of  Faith 

Bill  Costello 

The  News  Makers 

Salt  Lake  Taoernacle 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 
12:30 
12:45 

Eternal  Light 

ifVings  Over  Jordan 
Lutheran  Hour 

Piano  Playhouse 

Invitation  to  Learning 
People's  Platform 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 

1:45 

America  United 
Chicago  Round  Table 

William  L.  Shirer 
John  8.  Kennedy 
American  Radio 

Warblers 
Songs  By  Great 

Singers 

American  Almanac 
National  Vespers 

Joseph  C.  Harsch 
Elmo  Roper 
Tell  It  Again 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

NBC  University 
Theater 

Mutual  Opera 

Concert 
Bill  Dunningham 
Veteran's  Information 

This  Week  Around 

The  World 
Mr.  President 

Drama 

Longine  Sym- 

phonette 
You  Are  There 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

One  Man's  Family 

Ernie  Lee  Show 
Juvenile  Jury 

Harrison  Wood 
Betty  Clark  Sings 
Dance  Music 

N  Y.  Philharmonic 
Symphony 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

The  Quiz  Kids 

News 
Living-1949 

House  of  Mystery 
True  Detective 

The  Future  of 

America 
Metroiolitan  Opera 

Auditions 

Skyway  to  the  Stars 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

Jane  Pickens  Show 
Robert  Merrill 

The  Shadow 
Quick  As  A  Flash 

Quiet  Please 

Festival  of  Song 
Strike  It  Rich 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

The  Catholic  Hour 

Ozzie  Nelson,  Harriet 
Hilliard 

ftoy  Rogers 
Nick  Carter 

Orew  Pearson 
Don  Gardner 
Greatest  Story  Ever 
Told 

Family  Hour  of  Stars 
Spotlight  Revue 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Horace  Heidt 

Alice  Faye  and  Phil 
Harris 

Adv.  of  the  Falcon 
Mayor  of  the  Town 

Go  For  the  House 

Carnegie  Hall 
Musicale 

The  Jack  Benny 

Show 
Amos  'n'  Andy 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Fred  Allen 
NBC  Theater 

A.  L.  Alexander 
Memos  For  Music 

Stop  the  Music 

Sam  Spade 
Life  With  Luigi 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Manhattan  Merry- 

Go-Round 
American  Album 

Under  Arrest 

Jimmie  Fidler 
Twin  Views  of  News 

Walter  Winchell 
Uouellj  Parsons 
Theatre  Guild  on 
the  Air 

Electric  Theatre 

with  Helen  Hayes 
Our  Miss  Brooks 

10:00 
10:30 

Take  It  or  Leave  It 
Who  Said  That? 

Secret  Missions 
Don  Wright  Chorus 

Jimmie  Fidler    • 

Lum  'n'  Abner 

It  Pays  to  be 

Ignorant 

MARYLEE  ROBll— graduated  from 
reading  commercials  to  playing  Mar- 
jorie  on  NBC's  Great  Gildersleeve. 


r 


I 


JOHN  BROWN— looks  less  like  an 
actor  than  anyone  else  in  the  business; 
he  is  often  mistaken  for  a  gate-crasher 
in  Hollywood's  radio  city.  Born  in 
England,  reared  in  Australia,  John  got 
into  radio  through  the  Mig'ity  A'!en 
Art  Players  in  Hollywood.  When  Allen 
moved  his  show  to  New  York,  John 
stayed  behind;  joined  the  Life  of  Riiey 
cast — is  Digger  O'Dell. 


^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

Local  Programs 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  New 

York 
Clevelandaires 

Editor's  Diary 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Bob  Poole  Show 

3reakfast  Club 

3BS  News  of  America 
Jarnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
The  Brighter  Day 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  In  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Settv  Crocker  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 

Eleanor  and  Anna 
Roosevelt 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 

11:30 

11:45 

We  Love  and  Learn 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Victor  Lindlahr 

Gahrie!  Heatter's 

Mailbag 
Lannv  Ross 

Jane  Jordan 

At  Home  With  the 

Kirkwoods 
Ted  Malone 

Cia'en  Drake 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00. 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smit/1  Soeaks 
Kate  Smith  Sings 

Luncheon  at  Sardi's 

/velcome  Travelers 
Maggi  McNeills 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

Boston  Symphony 

Robert  McCormick 
Jack  Kilty 

Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Bill  Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 

Dorothy  Dix 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 
The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 

Today's  Children 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  For  A  Day 
Golden  Hope  Chest 

Skfst.  in  Hollywood 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
What  Make  You 
Tick? 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Show 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
House  Party 

David  Harum 
Hilltop  House 
Your  Lucky  Strike 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Misc.  Programs 
Johnson  Family 
Misc.  Programs 
Two  Ton  Baker 

Kay  Kyser 
Ethel  and  Albert 

Hint  Hunt 
Robert  Q.  Lewis 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Rill 
-rent  Pane  Farrell 

Superman 

Caot.  Midnight 
Tom  Mix 

Challenge  of  the 

Yukon 
Jack  Armstrong 

Treasury  Bandstand 

The  Chicaqoans 
Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
8:15 
6:30 
6:45 

Jonn  MacVane 
Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

£ric  Sevareid 
"You  and " 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 

H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Dinner  Date 

News 

Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
The  Lone  Ranger 

Seulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Cavalcade  of 

America 
Voice  of  Firestone 

Straight  Arrow 
Sherlock  Holmes 

The  Railroad  Hour 
Henry  Taylor 

Inner  Sanctum 
Talent  Scouts 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 

9:55 

Telephone  Hour 
Dr.  1.  Q. 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Fishing  and  Hunting 

Club 
Bill  Henry 

Stars  in  the  Night 

Lux  Radio  Theatre 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Contented  Program 

American  Forum  of 

the  Air 
Dance  Orch. 

Arthur  Gaeth 
Earl  Godwin 
On  Trial 

My  Friend  Irma 
The  Bob  Hawk  Show 

r 


1 


LURENE  TUlTLE=-who  plays  Effie, 
Sam  Spade's  secretary,  every  Sunday  at 
8:00  P.M.  EST,  CBS,  can  rightfully  be 
called  the  first  lady  of  radio,  having 
appeared  on  every  major  dramatic 
show  emanating  from  Hollywood.  Ra- 
dio producers  call  her  the  Rock  of 
Gibraltar  because  she  lends  so  much 
support  to  her  leading  men.  Recently, 
she  made  her  screen  debut  in  "Heaven 
Only  Knows." 


^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H 

A.M. 

NBC 

IVIBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

Local  Programs 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 
Clevelandaires 

Editor's  Diary 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Bob  Poole  Show 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10.15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Road  of  Life 

The  Brighter  Day 

Cecil  Brown 

Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 

Eleanor  and  Anna 
Roosevelt 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 

11:30 

11:45 

We  Love  And  Learn 
Jacl(  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

Gabriel  IHeatter's 

Mailbag 
Lanny  Ross 

Jane  Jordan 

At  Home  With  the 

Kirkwoods 
Ted  Malone 

Galen  Drake 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:00 

Do  You  Remember 

8:45 

News 

Local  Programs 

9:00 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 

Editor's  Diary 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 

9:15 

Tell  Your  Neighbors 

Barnyard  Follies 

9:30 

Clevelandaires 

Bob  Poole  Show 

9:45 

10:00 

Fred  Waring 

Cecil  Brown 

My  True  Sfory 

Music  For  You 

10:15 

Faith  in  Our  Time 

10:30 

Road  of  Life 

Say  It  With  Music 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 

Arthur  Godfrey 

10:45 

The  Brighter  Day 

Club  Time 

11:00 

Passing  Parade 

Jane  Jordan 

11:15 

We  Love  And  Learn 

Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

At  Home  With  the 
Kirkwoods 

11:30 

Jack  Berch 

Gabriel  Heatter's 
Mailbag 

Ted  Malone 

Grand  Slam 

11:45 

Lora  Lawton 

Lanny  Ross 

Galen  Drake 

Rosemary 

AFTERNOON  PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Kate  Smith  Sings 

Luncheon  At  Sardi's 

Welcome  Travelers 
Maggi  McNeills 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

Art  Van  Damme 

Quartet 
Robert  McCormick 
Jack  Kilty 

Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Bill  Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 

Dorothy  Dix 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 
The  Guiding  L8ght 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 

Today's  Children 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  For  A  Day 
Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
What  Makes  You 
Tick? 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Show 
Dixie  Barn  Dance 

Gang 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
House  Party 

David  Harum 
Hilltop  House 
Your  Lucky  Strike 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Misc.  Programs 
Johnson  Family 
Misc.  Programs 
Two  Ton  Baker 

Kay  Kyser 
Ethel  and  Albert 

Hint  Hunt 
Robert  Q.  Lewis 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Paae  Farrell 

Straight  Arrow 

Capt.  Midnight 
Tom  Mix 

The  Green  Hornet 
Sky  King 

Treasury  Bandstand 

The  Chicagoans 
Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00    John  MacVane 

Eric  Sevareid 

6:15 

Sketches  in  Melody 

"You  and " 

6:30 

Local  Programs 

6:45 

Sunoco  News 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 

Chesterfield  Club 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Headline  Edition 

Beulah 

7:15 

News  of  the  World 

Dinner  Date 

Elmer  Davis 

Jack  Smith  Show 

7:30 

The  Smoothies 

News 

Counter  Spy 

Club  15 

7:45 

H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Inside  of  Sports 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 

This  Is  Your  Life 

George  O'Hanlan 

Youth  Asks  The 

Mystery  Theatre 

Ralph  Edwards 

Show 

Government 

8:15 

Earl  Godwin 

8:30 

Alan  Young  Show 

Official  Detective 

America's  Town 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  North 

8:55 

Hy  Gardner 

Meeting  of  the  Air 

9:00 

Bob  Hope  Show 

Gabriel  Heatter 

We,  The  People 

9:15 

Radio  Newsreel 

9:30 

Fibber  McGee 

Air  Force  Hour 

Erwin  D.  Canham 

Morey  Amsterdam 

9:45 

Molly 

Detroit  Symphony 

Show 

9:55 

Bill  Henry 

Orch. 

10:00 

Big  Town 

Korn's-A-Krackin' 

It's  in  the  Family 

Hit  The  Jackpot 

10:15 

10:30 

People  Are  Funny 

Dance  Orchestra 

6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 


7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 


8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 


9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:55 


AFTERNOON  PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 

Kate  Smith  Sings 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

Luncheon  At  Sardi's 

Maggi  McNeills 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

Luncheon  With  Lopez 

Cedric  Foster 

Bill  Baukhage 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Happy  Gang 

Nancy  Craig 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Jack  Kilty 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Dorothy  Dix 

The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 

Double  or  Nothing 

Queen  For  A  Day 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Today's  Children 

Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

What  Makes  You 
Tick? 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

David  Harum 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

Show 

Hilltop  House 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Ozark  Valley  Folks 

House  Party 

Your  Lucky  Strike 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Misc.  Programs 

Kay  Kyser 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

The  Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Ethel  and  Albert 

Robert  Q.  Lewis 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Two  Ton  Baker 

5:00 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Superman 

Challenge  of  the 

Treasury  Bandstand 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

Yukon 

5:30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Capt.  Midnight 

Jack  Armstrong 

The  Chicagoans 

5:45 

Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


10:00 
10:15 
10:30 


John  MacVane 
Sketches  in  Melody 


Sunoco  News 


Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
The  Smoothies 
H.  V.  Kaltenborn 


Blondie 

Great  Gildersleeve 


Duffy's  Tavern 

Mr.  District  Attorney 


The  Big  Story 
Curtain  Time 


Local  Programs 


Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Dinner  Date 

News 

Inside  of  Sports 


Can  You  Top  This 
High  Adventure 


Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Family  Theater 
Bill  Henry 


Comedy  Play- 
house 
Dance  Orch. 


Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Lone  Ranger 


Original  Amateur 
Hour,  Ted  Macks, 
M.C. 


Milton  Berle  Show 
Groucho  Marx  Show 


Bing  Crosby 
Meredith  Wilson 


Eric  Sevareid 
"You  and ' 


Lowell  Thomas 


Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

Mr.  Chameleon 

Dr.  Christian 


Your  Song  and  Mine 

Harvest  of  Stars 
with  James  Melton 


Beat  The  Clock 
Capitol  Cloak  Room 


t 


ROBERT  TROUT— is  the  quotemas- 
ter  on  NBC's  lively  Who  Said  That? 
(Sun.,  10:30  P.M.  EST).  Born  in  North 
Carolina,  Bob  began  his  radio  career 
as  a  news  writer  in  Washington  in  1931 
and  got  his  first  break  in  newscasting 
when  he  was  rushed  to  the  mike  to 
pinch  hit  for  a  missing  announcer. 
Since  then  his  radio  reporting  has  taken 
him  over  2.50,000  miles  through  48  states 
and  20  foreign  countries. 


R 
M 

69 


A.M. 

NBC 

ivies 

ABC 

CSS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

Local  Programs 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 
Clevelandaires 

Editor's  Diary 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Bob  Poole  Show 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
The  Brighter  Day 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  tfWith  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Dorothy  Kilgallen 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 

11:30 

11:45 

We  Love  and  Learn 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

Gabriel  Heatter's 

Mailbag 
Lanny  Ross 

Jane  Jordan 

At  Home  With  the 

Kirkwoods 
Ted  Malone 

Galen  Drake 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


vi:oa 

12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Kate  Smith  Sings 

Luncheon  at  Sardi's 

Welcome  Travelers 
Maggi  McNeills 

Wendy  warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

Luncheon  With  Lopez 

Robert  McCormick 
Jack  Kilty 

Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Bill  Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 

Dorothy  Dix 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 
The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 

Today's  Children 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  For  A  Day 
Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
What  Makes  You 
Tick? 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Show 
Dixie  Barn  Dance 

Gang 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
House  Party 

David  Harum 
Hilltop  House 
Your  Lucky  Strike 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Misc.  Programs 
Johnson  Family 
Misc.  Programs 
Two  Ton  Baker 

Kay  Kyser 
Ethel  and  Albert 

Hint  Hunt 
Robert  Q.  Lewis 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Straight  Arrow 

Capt.  Midnight 
Tom  Mix 

The  Green  Hornet 
Sky  King 

Treasury  Bandstand 

The  Chicagoans 
Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

Sketches  in  Melody 
Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
"You  and " 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
Art  Van  Damme 
Quintet 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 
Dinner  Date 
News 
Inside  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Counter  Spy 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Aldrich  Family 
Burns  and  Allen 

Western  Hit  Revue 

Abbott  and  Costello 

Our  Job  is  Man- 
hattan 

The  F.B.I.  In  Peace 

and  War 
Mr.  Keen 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
8:45 

Al  Jolson  Show 
Dorothy  Lamour 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Mysterious  Traveler 
Bill  Henry 

Personal  Autograph 
Jo  Stafford  Show 

Suspense 

Crime  Photographer 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Screen  Guild  Theatre 
Fred  Waring  Show 

Dance  Orch. 

Child's  World 

Hallmark  Playhouse 
First  Nighter 

1 


MEREDITH  WILLSON  —  became  a 
flutist  because  there  were  too  many 
pianists  in  his  hometown.  He  played 
and  studied  under  Sousa,  was  a  member 
of  the  N.  Y.  Philharmonic,  has  been  a 
musical  director  for  NBC,  and  now 
directs  his  unique  show,  Wednesdays  at 
10:30  P.M.  EST,  ABC.  And  he  has 
found  time  to  compose  two  symphonies 
and  write  a  book  called  "And  There  I 
Stood  With  My  Piccolo." 


■ 

H^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^HH| 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

Local  Programs 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 
Clevelandaires 

Editor's  Diary 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Bob  Poole  Show 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
The  Brighter  Day 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
The  Listening  Post 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 

11:30 

11:45 

We  Love  and  Learn 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

Gabriel  Heatter's 

Mailbag 
Lanny  Ross 

JaneJordan 

At  Home  With  the 

Kirkwoods 
Ted  Malone 

Galen  Drake 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Echoes  From  the 

Tropics 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Kate  Smith  Sings 

Luncheon  At  Sardi's 

Welcome  Travelers 
Maggie  McNeills 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

U.  S.  Marine  Band 

Robert  McCormick 
Jack  Kilty 

Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Bill  Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 

Dorothy  Dix 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 

Today's  Children 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  For  A  Day 
Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
What  Makes  You 
Tick? 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Show 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Ladles  Be  Seated 
House  Party 

David  Harum 
Hilltop  House 
Your  Lucky  Strike 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Misc.  Programs 
Johnson  Family 
Misc.  Programs 
Two  Ton  Baker 

Kay  Kyser 
Ethel  and  Albert 

Hint  Hunt 
Robert  Q.  Lewis 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Superman 

Capt.  Midnight 
Tom  Mix 

Challenge  of  the 

Yukon 
Jack  Armstrong 

Treasury  Bandstand 

The  Chicagoans 
Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


70 


H 


dSi 


,h<i!^V. 


BARBARA  FULLER  — is  the  petite 
young  actress  from  Nahant,  Mass.,  who 
plays  the  role  of  Claudia  in  NBC's  One 
Man's  Family  and  who  yearns  to  be  a 
tragedienne.  She  developed  a  taite  for 
emotional  roles  when  she  made  her 
debut,  at  the  age  of  9,  in  a  part  calling 
for  sobs  and  uncontrolled  weeping. 
But,  much  to  her  disappointment,  she 
has  never  played  such  roles  since. 


h' 


6:001 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

News 

Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
"You  and " 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 

H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Dinner  Date 

News 

Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
EInier  Davis 
Lone  Ranger 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Cities  Service  Band 

Of  America 
Jimmy  Durante 

Show 

Great  Scenes  From 

Great  Plays 
Yours  For  A  Song 

The  Fat  Man 
This  Is  Your  FBI 

Jack  Carson  Show 
My  Favorite  Husband 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Eddie  Cantor  Show 
Red  Skelton  Show 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Enchanted  Hour 

Break  the  Bank 
The  Sheriff 

Ford  Theatre 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Life  of  Riley 
Sports 

Meet  the  Press 
Dance  Orch. 

Boxing  Bouts 

Philio  Morris  Play- 
house 

H.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Mind  Your  Manners 
Coffee  in  Washington 

Paul  Neilson,  News 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Shoppers  Special 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

Garden  Gate 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 
10:45 

Mary  Lee  Taylor 
Archie  Andrews 

Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Jerry  and  Skye 
Albert  Warner 

Concert  of  Amer- 

can  Jazz 
Big  and  Little  Club 
Saturday  Strings 

Red  Barber's  Club- 

House 
Romance 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

Meet  the  Meel<s 
Smilin'  Ed  McConnell 

Hormel  Girls  Corps 
Magic  Rhythm 

Abbott  and  Costello 
Whafs  My  Name? 

Let's  Pretend 
Junior  Miss 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Arthur  Barriault 

Smoky  Mt.  Hayrlde 

Junior  Junction 

Theatre  of  Today 

12:15 

Public  Affair 

12:30 

Luncheon  With  Lopez 

American  Farmer 

Grand  Central 

12:45 

Station 

1:00 

Nat'l  Farm  Home 

Campus  Salute 

Maggie  McNeills, 

County  Fair 

1:15 

Herb  Sheldon 

1:30 

R.F.D.  America 

Symphonies  For 

U.  S.  Navy  Hour 

Give  and  Take 

1:45 

Youth 

2:00 

Musicana 

Metropolitan  Opera 

Stars  Over  Holly- 

2:15 

wood 

2:30 

Edward  Tomlinson 

Macalaster  College 

2:45 

Report  From  Europe 

Choir 

3:00 

Pioneers  of  Music 

Poole's  Paradise 

3:15 

3:30 

Sports  Parade 

Local  Programs 

3:45 

4:00 

Your  Health  Today 

4:15 

Echoes  From  the 
Tropics 

4:30 

Adventures  of  Frank 

Charlie  Slocum 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

4:45 

Merriweii 

First  Church  of 
Christ  Science 

5:00 

The  Lassie  Show 

Russ  Hodges  Quiz 

Chuck  Foster's 

5:15 

Wormwood  Forest 

True  or  False 

Dance  Music 

Make  Way  For 

5:45 

Dr.  1.  Q.  Jr. 

Youth 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

Peter  Roberts 
Religion  in  the  News 
NBC  Symphony 

Music 

Bands  For  Bonds 

Speaking  of  Songs 
Jack  Beall 

News  From  Wash- 
ington 

Memo  From  Lake 
Success 

Saturday  Sports 
Review 

Larry  Lesueur 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Vic  Damone,  Hollace 
Shaw 

Hawaii  Calls 

Robert  Hurliegh 
News 

Treasury  Bond  Show 

Camel  Carvan  with 
Vaughn  Monroe 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Hollywood  Star 
Theatre 

Truth  or  Conse- 
quences 

Twenty  Questions 
Take  a  Number 

Starring  Kay  Starr 
Famous  Jury  Trials 

Gene  Autry  Show 

Adventures  of  Philip 
Barlowe 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Your  Hit  Parade 
Judy  Canova  Show 

Life  Begins  at  80 

Little  Herman 
Drama 

Gang  Busters 
Tales  of  Fatima 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Day  in  the  Life  of 

Dennis  Day 
Grande  Ole  Opry 

Theatre  of  the  Air 

Musical  Etching 
Hayloft  Hoedown 

Sing  it  Again 

National  Guard  Mili- 
tary Ball 

W^^^-'^^-if^yi?^:' 


i 


"/■y?.^^/'. 


■iy^r:- 


CHARME  ALLEN— went  into  the  the- 
atrical profession  despite  parental  op- 
position. She  played  in  stock  for  a 
while,  then  married  actor  Joseph  Allen. 
They  went  to  Buffalo  for  their  honey- 
moon but  stayed  there  fifteen  years. 
Charme  entered  radio  in  its  infant 
stage,  reading  poetry,  helping  with  the 
sound  effects,  and  playing  scores  of 
roles.  She  now  plays  Polly  in  CBS's 
David  Harum. 


QUIZ  CmiOGUE 


IVIotes  to  Keep  Your  Radio  IVIirror 

Quiz  Catalogue  Up  to  Date 


One  good  thing  about  CBS's  quiz  show  with  a  heart, 
Strike  It  Rich  (Sundays  5:30  to  6  P.M.,  EST),  is  that 
folks  all  around  the  country  can  serve  as  contestants 
even  if  they  don't  own  a  phone.  The  question  that's 
asked  is  ...  do  you  need  money?  And,  who,  except 
Arthur  Godfrey  and  Rockefeller,  doesn't? 

However,  affable  and  stoutish  m.c.  Todd  Russell 
and  his  fast-talking  producer,  Walt  Framer,  must  get 
an  interesting  and  purposeful  reason  from  a  listener 
as  to  why  he  wants  to  Strike  It  Rich. 

The  contestants  are  picked  from  the  mailbags  and 
a  staff  of  researchers  searches  out  the  more  provoca- 
tive candidates.  Todd  and  Walt  then  invite  them  to 
appear  on  the  show. 

Every  Sunday  about  twenty  of  the  best  applicants 
show  up  at  CBS  Playhouse  No.  3  and  tell  their  story 
in  person.  Show-wise  Framer  picks  out  the  best  con- 
trasting contestants,  rehearses  them  in  their  little 
stories  and  then  they're  on  their  own. 

In  the  year  and  a  half  that  Strike  It  Rich  has  been 
on  the  air,  over  $100,000  has  been  given — in  cash. 
Most  any  one  player  can  win  is  $800. 

The  questions  posed  on  the  show  are  average  and 
broken  down  into  five  changing  categories.  Each 
player  starts  out  with  $25.  He  can  risk  anywhere 
from  $5  to  his  entire  capital  on  each  question. 

Smartest  thing  is  always  to  hold  back  a  minimum 
amount  because  if  you  plunge  all  and  miss  the  ques- 
tion you  are  bankrupt  and  out  of  the  game. 

Plenty  of  folks  have  good  reasons  for  wanting  to 
win  the  money  the  sponsor  puts  up.  Like  the  Brook- 
lyn girl  who  wanted  to  get  money  to  take  dramatic 
and  diction  lessons  because  her  longshoremen  broth- 
ers said  she  "talked  like  a  joik."  Or  the  steelworker 
whose  wife  was  expecting  quadruplets. 

Many  times  a  contestant  gets  more  money  from  un- 
expected quarters.  Sailor  Jackie  Mendoza  had  a  six- 
year-old  son  who  had  been  born  with  a  club  foot.  A 
famous  Florida  surgeon  promised  he  could  cure  the 
boy.  Jackie  won  $800  on  Strike  It  Rich,  picked  up  an- 
other $800  when  a  Hollywood  listener  matched  the 
award.  Then  the  Florida  hospital  gave  its  services 
free.  Just  recently  the  boy  came  to  the  broadcast 
and  walked  for  the  first  time  without  crutches. 

Some  contestants  are  nicked  from  the  studio  audi- 
ence by  lucky  ticket  stubs,  but  writing  a  good  letter 
is  still  the  best  way  for  you  to  tell  Todd  Russell  why 
vou  want  to  Strike  It  Rich. 


QUIZ  mun 


Bert  Parks,  Stop  the  Music  m.c.  is  infanticipating 
with  the  little  telephone  due  in  April  .  .  .  Incidentally, 
a  Maryland  railroad  worker  won  the  show's  all  time 
high  jackpot  last  month,  $30,500  .  .  .  And  a  jockey's 
wife  won  one  of  the  biggest  Break  the  Bank  jackpots 
with  $9,000  cash  .  .  .  The  FCC  edict  on  telephone 
shows  expected  any  minute  .  .  .  Borden's  County  Fair 
has  switched  to  Wednesdays  at  9  P.M.,  EST  on  CBS 
.  .  .  Recently  this  show  had  as  its  guests  the  winners  of 
the  three  biggest  jackpots  on  other  giveaway  shows. 
All  said  they  would  never  want  to  go  through  it 
again  .  .  .  CBS  auditioning  a  new  audience  participa- 
tion show  called  Earn  Your  Apples,  the  contestants 
will  all  be  school  teachers.  Prize,  a  trip  to  anywhere 
in  the  world. 


71 


FAMILY  COUNSELOR 


\m  INCOM 


Sylvia  F.  Porter,  financial  expert,  gave  Terry  Burton  and  lis- 
teners some  penetrating  advioe  on  when,  and  how,  to  budget. 


OH!  TO  KNOW  financial  security  and 
peace  of  mind.  But  how  could  we? 
Stan's  department  store  was  falling 
apart  at  the  seams  and  we  had  no  funds  to 
buy  the  new  Spring  lines.  Mother  Burton's 
prolonged  visit  meant  another  mouth  to 
feed  and  Baby  Wendy  was  proving  to  be  a 
joy  .  .  .  but  an  added  expense.  As  if  that 
weren't  enough,  the  sky-rocketing  prices 
were  burning  big  holes  in  my  purse.  Was 
there  any  way  of  trying  to  make  ends  meet? 

And  then  something  happened.  I  heard 
about  a  book  called:  How  To  Live  Within 
Your  Income  .  .  .  and  what  a  wonderful  book 
it  is.  Its  co-author,  Sylvia  F.  Porter,  agreed 
to  visit  the  Burtons  as  Family  Counselor 
and  this  is  what  she  told  our  listeners. 

"You'll  have  a  difficult  time  finding  finan- 
cial peace  of  mind  with  a  budget  because 
there's  no  fun  in  living  within  a  statistical 
strait- jacket,  or  in  attempting  to  fit  your- 
self into  a  ready-to-wear  financial  suit  .  .  . 
regardless  of  your  individual  wants  and 
desires.  But — a  money  manager  will  work 
wonders."  "A  money  manager?"  I  asked. 
"Yes,"  she  said,  "and  it's  something  the 
whole  family  can  work  on  together."  Miss 
Porter  explained  that  all  it  meant  was  keep- 
ing a  record  of  your  proposed  income  (earn- 
ings, returns  on  investments — and  even 
money  gifts)  and  not  just  planning  with  the 
cash  on  hand.  Your  expenses  are  listed  as 
they  occur  and  before  long  you'll  begin  to 
see  the  big  expenses  as  well  as  the  nibblers 
and  find  out  just  where  you  can  begin  to 
cut  down,  substitute — and  juggle  your 
funds. 

"You  know,  Terry,"  she  said,  "the  art  of 
living  within  your  income  really  means  get- 
ting the  most  satisfaction  out  of  what  you 
have  to  spend,  while  the  science  of  living 
within  your  income  lies  in  knowing  how  to 
spend  what  you  have  so  it  brings  you  this 
satisfaction." 

Miss  Porter  then  gave  our  listeners  some 
helpful  points  to  follow. 

1.  Get  what  you  really  want  for  your 
money  through  wise  buying.  And  this 
means  knowing  values. 

2.  Remember  that  your  leisure  time  can 
produce  funds  as  well  as  fun.  Ask  yourself 
— what  can  I  make  that  other  people  will 
buy — or  perhaps  you  have  a  service  to  sell. 

3.  Minimize  your  tax  payments,  many 
tax  payers  overpay  .  .  .  know  the  deductions 
to  which  you're  entitled  and  be  sure  to  use 
the  right  forms. 

4.  Carefully  planned  investments  in  life 
insurance  and  United  States  Government 
Bonds  will  pay  fine  dividends. 

Miss  Porter  concluded  with  this  thought 
by  saying:  "Remember — just  as  a  fine  set  of 
paint  brushes  doesn't  make  a  fine  artist,  so  a 
seemingly  good  income  doesn't  make  a  good 
financial  life."  And  added:  "the  happy  fam- 
ily is  that  which  can  use  its  income  as  a 
means  to  a  full,  rewarding  life  .  .  .  for  know- 
ing the  tools  and  how  to  use  them  is  the 
science  of  living  within  your  income." 

On  The  Family  Counselor  broadcasts,  we 
want  to  discuss  problems  which  are  of  in- 
terest to  our  listeners.  What  would  you 
like  discussed  by  one  of  our  Family  Coun- 
selors? Won't  you  send  your  suggestions  to 
me,  care  of  Radio  Mirror? 


R 
M 

72 


By    TERRY    BURTON 


'Wednesday  is  Family  Counselor  day  on  The  Second  Mrs.  Burton,  but  the 
program  is  heard  every  Monday  through  Friday    at  2  P.M.  EST,  on  CBS. 


ckM^ 


NOW— in  1  Beauty  Special 
Accept 

Pond's  delightful  lanolin-ri«h 
Wry  Skin  Cream 

Given  to- you 

with  purchase  of  7iH  jar  of 
Pond's  wonderful  Cold  Cream 

Pond's  times  this  wonderful  tim-cream 
offer  to  come  just  when  your  face  is  beg-  -""^ 

ging  for  some  special  springtime  pamper- 
ing to  make  it  prettier.  Bight  notv  you  can  J 
get  two  of  Pond's  loveliest  creams  to  ^ 
work  together  for  yoa  —  and  get  Imth  for 
the  price  of  the  Cold  Cream  alone. 

Mrs.  John  A.  Roosevelt  says,  "Two  of 
the  most  important  creams  1  kno>\  to 
keep  skin  immaculate  and  soft  are  Pond's 
Cold  Cream  and  Dry  Skin  Cream." 

Don't  wait!  Women  are  smart  about 
bargains  in  beauty.  And  this  bargain  is 
their/«iorf?e  Ponfl's  combination.  Hurry, 
get  your  Pond's  2-cream  special,  today. 


See  your  lovelier  facel  Immaculate!  Soft!  Rosy! 

So  much  that  is  YOU  speaks  for  yon 
in  YOUR  FACE 


TUMmhsA^ 


Does  your  face  say  the  happy, 
confident  things  about  you  that  yoii 
want  it  to  say?  It  can — but  it  needs 
help.  Always  at  bedtime  (for  day 
cleansings,  too)  give  it  this  reward- 
ing "Outside-Inside"  Face  Treat- 
ment with  Pond's  Cold  Cream: 

Hot  Stimulation — splash  your  face  with 
hot  water. 

Cream  Cleanse — swirl  on  Pond's  Cold 
Cream  to  soften  and  sweep  dirt,  make- 
up from  pore  openings.  Tissue  oiF.  ^ 


Cream  Rinse — swirl  on  more  Pond's  to 
rinse  off  last  traces  of  dirt.  Tissue  off. 

Cold  Stimulation — give  your  face  a  tonic 
cold  water  splash. 

•  •  • 

And  for  special  softening,  use 
lanolin-rich  Pond's  Dry  Skin  Cream 
generously  each  night  after  cleans- 
ing. Wipe  off  lightly  so  a  soft  film  is 
left  to  help  your  skin  all  night.  Use 
just  a  touch  of  cream  under  your 
make-up  for  exira  day-softening,  too. 


you  sSet  both  tbese  wonderful  creams  for  the  price  of  the  Cold  Cream  alone! 
J^or  a  tlmited.  time  onlyT  Stop  for  them  todnyl 


R 
M 

73 


HT/P 


trying  to  break  mine.  So  I  thumbed 
my  nose  at  the  Great  Bleak  Way  and 
went  to  Texas.  The  Houston  Chron- 
icle suffered  to  let  me  'sell  advertising. 
On  the  side  I  was  a  disc  jockey.  Then 
the  Air  Corps  stepped  in.  I  discovered 
I  couldn't  kill  myself.  When  that  was 
all  over  I  was  back  home  in  Milwaukee 
and  broke. 

Funny  thing  about  being  stone  cold 
busted.  If  you  have  a  little  money  you 
relax  and  wait  for  the  breaks.  But  if 
you  don't  have  the  price  of  tomorrow's 
breakfast  you  really  start  to  move.  I 
got  on  the  interurban  train  for  Chicago 
with  no  idea  about  what  I'd  do.  By  the 
time  the  Howard  Street  station  was 
called  I  was  half  asleep. 

HOWARD  STREET?  Why  that  was 
me!  I  jumped  up  and  rushed  off  the 
train.  There  I  stood  with  my  entire  as- 
sets— an  eager  look  and  a  knife  edge 
press  in  my  pants.  A  few  minutes  later 
I  walked  into  an  advertising  agency  and 
asked  to  see  the  business  manager.  I 
came  out,  dazed  with  the  realization 
that  I'd  talked  myself  into  $75  a  week 
selling  radio  time.  There  was  some  side 
money,  too;"  writing  jokes  for  Danny 
Thomas.  Stu  Dawson  sent  some  of  my 
stuff  over  to  another  advertising  agency 
and  then  Jack  Benny  took  me  on  as  a 
staff  writer,  which  brought  me  to  Hol- 
lywood. 

Ah,  Hollywood,  lovely  spa  by  the 
Blue  Pacific.  How  peaceful  and  quiet. 
All  I  could  hear  was  falling  pedestrians 
and  dropped  options.  This  was  the  place 
for  Cy  Howard  to  stay  and  one  day — he 
hoped — pack  away  more  money  than 
Lassie  or  Darryl  Zanuck. 

There  is  always  a  fateful  day.  It 
came  to  me  when  I  was  cutting  through 
the  Beverly  Hills  hotel  lobby  on  my  way 
to  a  swimming  pool  located  near  a  beau- 
tiful blonde.  I  was  detoured  by  a  man 
named  Maxwell  Anderson  who  said  to 
me,  "Are  you  an  actor?"  and  then 
took  me  at  my  word  when  I  said  yes. 

A  few  hours  after  that  I  found  myself 
saying  to  Jack  Benny,  "I  gotta  do  a 
Broadway  show." 

"That's  fine,  Cy,"  Benny  agreed. 
"Everybody  has  to.  I'd  like  to  read  the 
script  one  of  these  years  if  you  ever  get 
around  to  writing  it." 

"I  don't  mean  that.  I'm  going  to  act 
in  a  show." 

A  sympathetic  look  shaded  the  great 
comedian's  eyes.  He  put  a  fatherly 
hand  on  my  shoulder.  "It  happens  to 
the  best  of  us,  my  boy.  Maybe  if  you 
take  a  little  trip  to  Palm  Springs  for  a 
rest,  you  won't  have  to  see  a  psychi- 
atrist. Take  all  the  time  you  want. 
I'll  keep  you  on  the  payroll,  but  get  the 
acting  germ  out  of  your  corpuscles." 

I  finally  convinced  him  that  what  I 
had  was  a  job,  not  just  a  yen.  I  told 
him  that  the  play  was  Maxwell  Ander- 
son's "Storm  Operation." 

Mr.  Benny  leaned  like  the  Tower  of 
Pisa.  He  looked  at  me  as  though  he 
detected  a  resemblance  to  Cary  Grant. 
Then  he  exclaimed,  "Get  out  of  here, 
you  ham.  Good  luck  and  Heaven  bless 
you." 

Would  you  believe  it?  When  I  came 
up  out  of  the  subway,  back  in  New  York, 
Broadway  was  still  there,  shoving  peo- 
ple around.  Mrs.  O'Reilly  was  doing 
the  same  thing  with  her  tenants.  1 
"  went  up  to  73rd  Street  just  to  make 
M  sure.  As  I  walked  by  I  was  pursued  by 
a  flood  of  memories  and  the  faint  aroma 
of  garlic.    I  said  to  myself,  "Some  day 


The  Blonde  I  Prefer 

(Continued  jrom  page  61) 

you  will  write  a  play  to  immortalize 
Mrs.  O'Reilly  and  her  happy  patrons." 

One  play,  one  radio  show  and  one 
year  later,  "some  day"  came — or  began 
to  get  under  way  at  least.  Once  again 
I'd  fallen  in  with  a  godfather  who  was 
no  relative  to  me.  This  was  Bill  Paley, 
who  took  me  on  to  create  new  shows 
for  CBS.  I  stood  up  before  Bill  like  a 
man  who  knew  what  he  was  doing  and 
delivered  an  ultimatum  to  both  of  us, 
to  wit:  "The  comedy  of  life  is  in  Mrs. 
O'Reilly's  boarding  house  and  a  delica- 
tessen on  6th  Avenue.  You  can't  go 
among  the  people  in  thirteen  weeks.  I'll 
need  a  year  because  I  like  to  go  to  the 
bank  regular." 

For  two  weeks  nothing  happened. 
Then  one  evening  when  I'd  made  a 
comedian  of  myself  at  a  party  my  wife 
said  to  me,  "You  are  Phil  Silvers  with- 
out an  act." 

That  made  me  sore.  I  didn't  talk  to 
her  for  two  days,  which  gave  me  time 
to  think  up  a  radio  show  called  My 
Friend  Irma,  incorporating  all  those 
people  I'd  met  in  Mrs.  O'Reilly's  board- 
ing house,  Mrs.  O'Reilly  herself,  and 
a  lot  of  characters   I'd   encountered. 

How  did  I  really  find  Irma  herself? 
I  could  make  up  a  good  story  about  it, 


COMING  NEXT  MONTH 

Nancy  Craig  demonstrates  how  she  trans- 
fers to  practical  use  in  her  own  home  those 
delightful  ideas  her  listeners  hear  each  day, 
in   Come  and  Visit  Nancy  Craig  .  .  . 

•  •      • 

Jack  Smith's  wife  tells  her  own  story  of  the 
"important  little  things"  that  make  her  hus- 
band just  about  perfect  in  her  eyes,  and 
won  him  an  award  as  "The  Ideal  American 
Husband."  My  Husband  Is  Ideal,  by  Vicki 
Smith  ... 

•  *     • 

Both — and  many  more  as  interesting  stories 
— in 

MAY 

RADIO  AND  TELEVISION 

MIRROR  Magazine 

On  sale  Wednesday,   April    I  I 


but  why  not  tell  the  truth?  In  my  time, 
I've  gone  around  with  a  lot  of  girls.  I 
made  a  list  of  them,  but  decided  I 
couldn't  use  'em.  They  all  had  a  bad 
connotation.  They  were  too  lovely,  too 
silly,  too  homely,  too  selfish,  too  some- 
thing. I  went  through  a  lot  of  names- 
Sally,  Ruth,  Helen,  Nelma,  Barbara— 
a  list  nine  yards  long  before  I  came  to 
Irma.  Now  there  was  a  name!  Irma 
could  be  anything  you  wanted  her  to  be. 
I  wanted  her  to  be  in  Minnesota,  so  she 
had  to  have  a  last  name  to  go  with  the 
state.  I  remembered  looking  in  a  Min- 
neapolis telephone  book  once,  and  all  I 
could  find  were  Petersons,  Olsons, 
Johnsons  and  more  Petersons. 

So  there  she  was,  in  name  only — one 
Irma  Peterson. 

Now,  about  the  other  girl  I  wanted  to 


use — the  clipped  and  brittle,  capable 
and  American  one,  the  feminine  coum 
terpart  of  Tom  Jones.  Jane's  a  good, 
dependable  name.  So's  Stacey.  So  there 
she  was — Jane  Stacey. 

Then  off  to  the  West  Coast  I  went, 
armed  with  a  script  and  a  briefcase  full 
of  ideas — but  there  was  no  band  wait-, 
ing  to  meet  me. 

When  I  arrived  in  Hollywood  to  set 
up  shop  with  Irma  I  had  to  find  her.  I 
considered  hundreds  of  people  who 
didn't  know  what  they  were  applying 
for.  I  needed  an  Irma  who  wasn't  as 
stupid  as  she  sounded,  but  who'd  be 
out  of  her  class  when  thrown  in  with 
Jane.  Jane  who'd  always  know  what  she 
was  doing  and  enjoy  having  a  friend 
like  Irma  who'd  polish  up  her  ego.  The 
whole  cast  had  to  be  people  who,  stand-* 
ing  by  themselves,  could  be  called  quite 
normal,  but  when  thrown  together  at 
Mrs.  O'Reilly's  boarding  house  would 
become  a  comedy  concert. 

See  what  I  mean?  There's  Al.  Irma 
knows  he's  not  so  much,  but  she  loves 
him.  And  she's  right.  Al's  a  good 
fellow,  but  he's  influenced  by  Joe  who's 
a  big  crook.  And  Professor  Kropotkin 
who  never  gets  anywhere — but  in  dif- 
ferent circumstances  he  might. 

It  took  a  year  and  a  half  to  put  all 
this  together.  One  night  I  went  to  see 
Ken  Murray's  Blackouts.  I  had  an  idea 
about  Marie  Wilson,  the  leading  lady, 
and  I  confirmed  it  by  going  backstage 
to  meet  her.  She  had  all  the  sweetness 
and  charm  my  Irma  needed.  Also  she 
seemed  like  the  Ph.D.  of  Dumb  Dolls. 

I  explained  Irma  to  her. 

"Oh,"  Marie  exclaimed.  "I  couldn't 
do  a  character  like  that.  I  tried  radio 
once.  I  can't  read  lines.  Somebody'd 
have  to  double  for  my  dialogue." 

There  was  a  long  parade  of  would- 
be  Jane  Staceys.  I  heard  about  Cathy 
Lewis  and  called  her  up.  She  said, 
"I'm  very  busy.  I'll  give  you  exactly 
five  minutes  of  my  time.  -  And  in  the 
end  you'll  take  someone  else." 

THAT  did  it.  Cathy's  aggressiveness 
and  basic  sincerity  hit  the  character 
right  on  the  nose.  She  is  one  of  the 
greatest  talents  I've  ever  known.  When 
we  learned  at  this  season's  beginning 
that  Cathy  couldn't  go  on,  even  after 
having  worked  the  dress  rehearsal,  I 
was  horrified.  She  just  didn't  have  the 
stamina  following  her  illness  of  the 
summer  before.    • 

There  were  hours  of  nightmarish 
auditions  trying  to  perform  a  miracle. 
We  couldn't  come  up  with  another 
Cathy,  but  Joan  Banks  seemed  closest 
to  her  definition  of  the  role.  With  less; 
than  an  hour's  rehearsal,  Joan  went  oni 
and  has  delivered  an  outstanding  jobi 
ever  since,  although  by  the  time  yous 
read  this  Cathy  may  again  be  Jane. 

Professor  Kropotkin?  That  was  an-, 
other  tough  one.  I  was  nutty  about  th^ 
character  and  wanted  to  play  him  my- 
self, which  was  why  I  was  so  hard- 
boiled  about  finding  the  right  man.  One 
day  I  was  rushing  through  the  lobbyj 
at  CBS  when  I  spotted  a  great  actor  by 
the  name  of  Hans  Conried.  He  was 
wearing  a  long,  flowing  tie  and  looked 
so  preoccupied  that  I  swear  he  walked 
through  the  front  door  without  open- 
ing it. 

"Hey,"  I  exclaimed.  "Do  you  drink 
tea  out  of  a  glass  with  the  sugar  in 
your  mouth?" 

He  looked  at  me  as  though  he'd  be 
infinitely  happy  (Continued  on  page  76) 


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COLUMBUS  15,  OHIO 


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75 


(Continued  from  page  74) 
if  I  crawled  back  into  the  woodwork. 
Then   he   spoke  in  rumbling,   resonant 
tones. 

"It  is  none  of  your  business,  Mr. 
Horowitz,"  he  said,  deliberately  lousing 
up  my  name.  "But  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
yes,  I  do  drink  tea  out  of  a  glass  with 
sugar  in  my  mouth."  That  made  two 
of  us,  and  I  knew  we  would  enjoy  in- 
sulting each  other. 

Then  came  John  Brown  for  Al.  I 
seriously  suspect  that  John,  one  of 
radio's  original  iron  horses,  makes 
more  money  than  I  do,  he  plays  so 
many  characters  in  various  shows.  An- 
other of  the  war  horses  is  Alan  Reid, 
who  plays  Mr.  Clyde.  You  know, 
Marie  isn't  just  in  "good  company." 
She's  with  the  greatest,  including 
Donald  Woods  as  Richard  Rhinelander. 

As  for  Gloria  Gordon,  what  can  a 
mere  producer  say  about  her  work? 
That  reminds  me  that  at  one  time  some- 
one suggested  that  to  save  time  we  take 
away  her  credit  on  the  show.  "Take 
away  her  credit?"  I  howled.  "Look, 
aside  from  the  fact  that  she  is  sensa- 
tional, she  owns  six  houses  and  she's 
always  late  for  rehearsal  because  she 
has  to  collect  the  rent.  Why,  I  suspect 
that  she  owns  most  of  Sunset  Boule- 
vard. Take  away  her  credit  and  maybe 
CBS  has  to  start  looking  for  a  new 
building!" 

Speaking  of  credit,  I  hate  to  pick  up 
my  fee  for  directing  these  people.  In 
case  you  don't  know  it,  a  good  director 
is  simply  a  fellow  who  has  the  sense  to 
put  a  gang  of  performers  like  this  to- 
gether. 

That's  why  I  have  such  a  calm  dis- 
position. People  go  away  from  rehear- 
sals for  My  Friend  Irma  thinking  I'm 
berserk.  One  reporter  got  so  mad  he 
wanted  to  punch  me  in  the  nose. 

I'd  been  rehearsing  one  scene  over 
and  over.  My  temperament  overshot 
the  safety  mark  when  Marie  Wilson 
giggled. 

"Shut  up!"  I  roared.  "You're  a  miser- 
able actress.  You've  got  no  talent.  You 
do  everything  wrong,  and  on  top  of  that 
you  are  insolent!" 

There  was  a  slight  pause.  Marie 
looked  up  at  the  booth.  "Thank  you, 
Mr.  Howard,"  she  said  silkily.  "I  ac- 
cept your  apology." 

I  was  told  later  that  the  reporter  went 
out  of  there  declaring  he'd  wait  for  me 
in  the  alley.  He  should  have  waited  un- 
til after  the  rehearsal  when  Marie  came 
up  to  me  and  inquired  anxiously,  "Cy 
— are  you  feeling  all  right?  Sure  you're 
not  sick?  You  only  yelled  at  me  for 
ten  minutes  today." 

It's  hard  to  explain  why  I  do  those 
things.  I  have  an  habitual  attitude 
when  I  walk  in  on  a  rehearsal.  The 
whole  cast  is  sitting  around  a  table 
reading  their  lines.  Before  I  can  hear 
what  they  say  I  yell,  "Stop!  Do  it 
over — it's  all  wrong!"  It's  self-defense 
because  if  I  treated  my  staff  with  the 
respect  to  which  they  are  entitled, 
they'd  think  I  was  crazy,  crawling  in 
on  my  hands  and  knees  all  the  time. 
Conseauently  it  is  entirely  possible 
that  I'll  be  murdered  some  day  during 
rehearsal. 

There's  the  matter  of  music. 

That  genius  of  melody,  Lud  Gluskin, 
turned  to  me  on  one  occasion  and  asked, 
"Cy,  are  you  hearing  enough  of  the 
viola?" 

Violas  I  don't  know  from.  "I  wouldn't 
recognize  one  with  the  label  on  it,"  I 
admitted  furiously. 
''  We  went  on  from  there.  A  few  mo- 
w  ments  later  something  sounded  wrong. 
"Look  here,  Gluskin,"  I  bellowed.  "How 
many  times  do  I  have  to  tell  you  I  don't 


want  so  much  of  that  pringail.  I  realize 
you  have  a  beetle  browed  opinion  of 
my  musical  knowledge,  but  if  you  can't 
swing  in  with  more  klismeyer,  go  on 
out  and  lose  yourself.  I'd  rather  work 
with  a  hurdy  gurdy." 

Mr.  Gluskin  bowed  from  the  waist. 
Mentally  he  assigned  me  to  the  lower 
reaches  that  all  musicians  reserve  for 
those  who  can't  tell  an  obbligato  from 
a  reprise,  whatever  that  is. 

People  assume  that  I  am  a  creative 
nut.  Privately,  I  insist  that  I  studi- 
ously avoid  being  hemmed  in  by 
routine  and  disciplined  emotion.  One 
day  I  walked  into  the  show  without 
screaming  about  something.  The  whole 
mood  dropped  down  a  foot. 

Confidentially,  I  must  admit  that  a 
portion  of  my  work  is  done  by  my 
airedale  dog,  Mr.  Clyde.  What  por- 
tion I'll  never  admit.  Do  you  think  I'd 
want  NBC  to  hire  him  away  from  me? 
In  addition  to  loaning  his  name  to  a 
character  in  the  program  (Mr.  Clyde  is 
Irma's  boss),  my  Mr.  Clyde  has  won 
more  blue  ribbons  as  a  dog  than  I  ever 
will   critical   acclaim   as   a   producer. 

Not  too  long  ago  there  was  an  Irma 
in  my  life.  A  lovely  girl.  We'd  gone 
together  for  quite  awhile  and  liked  each 
other  so  much  we  didn't  have  the  nerve 
to  come  right  out  and  admit  that  we'd 
begun  to  bore  each  other.  The  romance 
was  exhausted  but  it  kept  breathing  on 
the  backs  of  our  necks.  Clyde  fixed 
that.  When  she  stopped  by  rehearsal, 
he  jumped  up  and  put  his  dirty  paws 
all  over  her  new  white  dress. 

This  Irma  had  been  waiting  for  just 
such  an  opening  and  so  had  I.  "You 
horrible  dog,  you!"  she  exclaimed. 

"Look  here,  woman,"  I  yelled.  "You 
can't  talk  about  my  dog  like  that!  Get 
out  of  my  life!" 

"With  pleasure,"  she  snapped,  on  her 
way  to  the  door. 

You  can  believe  it  or  not,  but  driving 
home  Clyde  winked  at  me. 

That's  really  why  I  used  his  name 
for  the  character  of  Irma's  boss  in  the 
show.    He  likes  to  be  in  on  the  act. 

There  are  other  things  you  should 
know  about  My  Friend  Irma.  How  I 
suffer,  for  instance.  Take  the  way  I 
tangle  with  Hans  Conreid.  Usually 
I  get  away  with  reading  all  the  char- 
acter lines  the  way  they  should  be 
read,  but  my  ambition  is  to  play  Profes- 
sor Kropotkin  on  the  air.  This  is  the 
terrible  cross  that  Hans  has  to  bear. 
When  I  get  to  needling  him,  he  suffers. 
Recently  he  slammed  down  his  script. 

"If  you  can  play  this  part  better  than 
I  can,"  he  demanded,  "why  don't  you 
do  it?" 


"What,"  I  returned  in  injured  voice, 
"and  ruin  your  reputation  in  thirty 
seconds?" 

I  should  try  to  follow  Hans  Conreid? 
I  should  fall  over  a  corpse.  That's  a 
great  man! 

They  say  that  actors  are  like  children. 
That's  silly.  You  tell  a  child  where 
you're  going  to  be  a  couple  of  times 
and  he'll  find  you  like  a  bird  dog.  That's 
why  I  start  rehearsals  a  half  hour  early. 
Marie  always  goes  to  the  wrong  studio. 
Unless  I'm  careful,  she'll  wind  up  one 
of  these  days  playing  stooge  to  the 
Thin  Man. 

She  drives  me  mad.  During  the  last 
political  campaign  we  were  preempted 
by  a  political  speech.  "We  get  a  vaca- 
tion," I  told  Marie.  "Senator  Taft's 
coming  on." 

"Senator  Taft?"  she  asked.  "Why, 
Mr.  Howard.  I  thought  you  told  me 
we'd  never  have  a  guest  star!" 

Sometimes  all  of  these  wonderful 
people  detest  me.  Hans  hates  me  with 
an  incurable  rage — for  giving  him  the 
job.  John  Brown  will  someday  put 
poison  in  the  rehearsal  coffee  because 
I'm  always  taking  him  away  from  his 
poker  game  with  the  musicians.  No 
wonder  he  makes  so  much  money.  I 
hope  he  gets  the  wrong  cup!  And 
Gloria  Gordon.  I  turned  down  eight 
Mrs.  O'Reillys  before  I  picked  her.  Yet 
I  am  a  worm  under  her  feet.  If  she 
didn't  have  to  work  so  hard  she'd  have 
been  out  buying  five  more  apartment 
houses  and  be  hiring  me  to  collect  the 
rent. 

Do  you  think  that's  bad? 

All  right.  My  Friend  Irma  is  now 
consistently  among  the  first  five  shows, 
by  Hooperating.  "rhat's  nice  company 
up  there  with  Jack  Benny,  Bob  Hope, 
Fibber  McGee  and  Molly  and  Lux 
Radio  Theater — and  not  a  big  star  in  the 
cast.  Then  Irma  leads  me  to  Luigi,  and 
Irma  herself  goes  into  movies.  I  said  I 
hate  women.  Look  what  she's  done 
to  me. 

But  you  must  grant  me  one  thing.  I 
have  a  tremendous  pride  in  Irma.  She 
was  created  and  written  by  me.  After 
that,  and  to  their  everlasting  credit,  is 
the  work  of  Parke  Levy,  who  with  his 
writing  staff  of  Stanley  Adams  and 
Richard  McLean,  took  over  the  script 
after  the  fifth  show.  This,  with  the  in- 
spired work  of  a  fine  production  staff, 
has  produced  a  show  of  which  radio  can 
be  proud.  Still,  all  this  would  be  noth- 
ing if  you,  the  listening  audience,  hadn't 
signified  your  love  for  My  Friend  Irma 
and  voted  her  and  her  friends  the  best 
comedy  story. 

May  you  never  lose  each  other! 


//» 


^^  ^^utcd  me  9te(4A  fc^  ^  i^e  ^ 


— So  writes  a  regular  listener  to  "MY  TRUE 
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of  these  complete  daily  dramas  that's  so  re- 
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Listen  to  radio's  greatest  morning  show, 
adapted  from  the  pages  of  True  Story  maga- 
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through  Friday. 

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77 


gabardine  shirt  and  frontier  whipcords, 
loafs  in  his  desk  chair.  Mary's  red  calico 
skirt  and  white  peasant  blouse  splash 
brightly  against  the  dark  upholstery 
of  the  couch. 

Easy  relaxation  pervades  the  room 
and    everyone    in    it. 

Before  you  know  it,  you're  chatting 
away,  asking  what  President  Truman 
said  as  he  autographed  his  picture,  and 
hearing  about  Bob  Hope's  encounter 
with  the  Quiz  Kids.  The  photographs 
on  the  walls  constitute  a  virtual  Who's 
Who  of  entertainment.  In  the  back 
of  your  head,  the  impression  grows  that 
you  sound  brighter,  wittier  than  you 
ever  have  in  your  life. 

About  the  time  you  think  you're 
being  a  Quiz  Kid  yourself,  it  dawns 
on  you  that's  exactly  what  is  happen- 
ing. That's  Joe  Kelly's  genius,  an  ability 
to  spark  other  people — kids  or  other- 
wise—into outdoing  themselves. 

THAT'S  what  has  made  him  so  bril- 
liantly successful  in  an  assignment 
that  had  stumped  plenty  of  men  with 
more  formal  education. 

Lou  Cowan  and  Walter  Wade  origi- 
nated the  Quiz  Kids  program  in  1940. 
Without  difficulty,  they  found  the  kids, 
but  they  had  trouble  discovering  the 
'  right  master  of  ceremonies. 

Finally,  Walter  Wade  thought  of  Joe 
Kelly,  then  under  contract  to  him 
for  National  Barn  Dance,  where  he  was 
doing  a  good  job  as  M.C. 

Kelly  was  reluctant,  but  as  a  favor 
to  Wade,  he  auditioned.  So  far  as  he 
was  concerned,  he  wasn't  eligible  for 
the  job.  For  him,  regular  schooling 
had  ended  with  the  third  grade  when 
he  went  on  stage  as  the  Irish  Nightin- 
gale. Subsequent  learning  had  been  the 
informal  variety  gleaned  by  touring  as 
star  boy  soprano  with  a  minstrel  show. 
He  had  no  desire  to  pit  his  wit  against 
kids   who   could   confuse   Einstein. 

Audition  completed,  he  left  for  a 
Canadian  vacation.  It  was  cut  short  by 
a  telegram  reading,  "Come  on  back. 
You're  the  Chief  Quizzer." 

Sensing  this  same  sincerity  the  kids 
felt,  the  radio  audience  has,  for  the  sec- 
ond consecutive  year,  chosen  him  to 
receive  Radio  Mirror's  award  as  the 
nation's  favorite  quizmaster. 

Joe  Kelly's  den  gives  evidence  of  how 
much  work  he  does  to  prepare  for  his 
program  and  provides  a  graphic  doc- 
umentary to  the  Kelly  living  as  well 
as  to  the  Kelly  work.  Pictures  and 
gadgets  are  useful  as  a  prompter's 
book  in  telling  the   story. 

Starting  point  is  the  photograph  of 
Kelly's  Klowns,  the  dance  band  that  got 
Joe  back  into  show  business  after  his 
forced  retirement  at  fourteen,  when  his 
voice  changed.  One  day  he  was  a  star; 
the  next,  he  was  an  office  boy.  He 
learned  to  play  piano  by  watching  dime 
store  song  pluggers,  and  as  soon  as  he 
could  fake  a  tune,  organized  a  band 
and  started  hunting  for  engagements. 

Photos  of  Mary,  looking  like  an 
earlier  Dorothy  Lamour,  illustrate  the 
next  chapter.  Forsaking  the  band,  Joe 
became  an  actor  in  a  touring  stock  com- 
pany where  Mary  had  graduated  from 
a  secretary's  job  to  become  one  of  the 
youngest  advance  agents  on  record. 

Joe  is  proud  of  those  pictures.  "I 
«  married  my  boss,"  he  grins.  "She  was 
HI  prettier  than  the  leading  lady.  It  was 
at  Sault  Saint  Marie,  Ontario,  St.  Pat- 
rick's day,  1923.  Snowdrifts  were  eight 
78 


Quiz  Kids'  Kelly 

(Continued  from  page  45) 

and  a  half  feet  high  and  the  ther- 
mometer was  hitting  bottom.  Before 
the  service,  I  had  to  help  build  the 
fire  to   warm  the  church." 

Baby  pictures  of  Joe  Jr.  date  from 
the  time  the  young  Kellys  tried  to  settle 
down  in  Michigan.  They  lived  first  in 
Benton  Harbor,  then  in  Coldwater,  and 
finally,  in  Battle  Creek.  Joe  had  a 
variety  of  jobs,  ranging  from  selling 
pianos  to  managing  a  clothing  store. 
No  venture  was  very  successful.  Joe 
and  Mary  belonged  in  show  business. 

Kelly's  Klown's,  second  edition,  gave 
them  their  break.  Joe  prevailed  on  the 
manager  of  the  new  radio  station, 
WELL,  to  put  the  band  on  the  air. 
The  venture  brought  both  bookings 
and  more  air  time.  Joe  sold  the  show. 
Eventually,  he  became  an  announcer. 

Mary  points  to  a  framed  map.  "Here, 
near  Watervliet,  Michigan,  is  where  we 
have  our  summer  place.  We've  fixed  it 
like  a  ranch,  with  Navajo  rugs  and 
other  western  things  we've  found.  We 
go  out  in  May  and  don't  come  back  until 
October.  We're  comfortable  in  frontier 
clothes  and  we  have  a  great  time.  That's 
where  we  really  live." 

Joe  goes  into  character,  flourishing 
a  six-shooter  which  turns  out  to  be  a 
cigarette  lighter.  He  has  nearly  fifty 
lighters,  many  of  them  souvenirs  of 
Quiz  trips. 

"Mary  and  I  shop  exactly  opposite 
ways,"  he  confides.  "She  reads  the  ads, 
then  phones.  I'm  a  window  shopper. 
Soon  as  I  get  into  a  new  town,  I  revert 
to  the  vaudeville  habit  of  scouting  the 
main  stem.  I  look  at  all  the  windows, 
decide,  then  next  day  go  back  to  buy.  I 
go  too  crazy  in  New  York.  Then  I  can't 
make  up  my  mind.  But  that's  nothing 
to  what  happens  when  I  get  into  a 
western  trading  post.  Then  I  want 
everything." 

"And  yet,"  Mary  puts  in,  "his  interest 
in  the  cow  country  hasn't  made  him 
a  steak  enthusiast.  He's  still  a  sandwich- 
type  man.  He  out-dagwoods  Dagwood." 

To  justify  this  ad,  Joe  leads  the  way 
to  the  gleaming  kitchen,  sets  the  stage 
for  a  production. 

At  that  point,  Mary  whisks  you  out. 
"Come  see  the  rest  of  the  house,"  she 
suggests.  "Joe  goes  temperamental.  He 
never  fusses  before  a  show,  but  sand- 
wiches are  different.  He  wants  to.  be 
alone    when    he's    creating." 

Opening  a  door,  she  says,  "Here's  the 
room  that  really  suits  me." 

WHITE  woodwork  contrasts  with  deep 
green-blue  walls.  The  plum-colored 
carpet  adds  warmth.  Across  an  entire 
wall,  draw  curtains  present  a  con- 
tinuous expanse  of  yellow  chintz.  Sil- 
ver gleams  on  the  mahogany  table. 

Everything  important  in  the  Kelly 
household  has  a  story.  From  a  cabinet, 
Mary  lifts  a  cherished  treasure.  "The 
Quiz  Kids  gave  us  this  on  our  twenty- 
fifth   wedding    anniversary." 

Engraved  on  the  face  of  the  tray  is 
the  first  question  from  the  first  show: 
"What  would  you  carry  home  if  you 
bought  an  antimacassar,  a  dinghy,  a 
sarong,  and  an  apteryx?"  Well— what 
would  you? 

Moving  along  to  the  living  room,  she 
tells  you  she  likes  to  keep  house,  but 
doesn't  care  much  about  cooking.  With 
the  aid  of  Mrs.  Robert  McNamara,  hired 
seventeen  years  ago  as  a  cleaning 
woman,  but  now  designated  by  Mary 
as  "my  Chicago  mother,"  she  keeps  the 


place    in     coffee-and-apple-pie     order. 

She's  an  inspired  home-maker, 
though,  and  an  avid  collector.  Her 
best-beloved  possessions  are  Royal 
Doulton  figurines  which  bracket  the 
fireplace.  "I  like  them  better  than 
Dresden,"  she  says.  "Growing  up  in 
Canada,  I  always  yearned  to  have  one, 
but  couldn't  afford  it.  Collecting  them 
has  been  a  childhood  dream  come  true." 

She  planned  the  apartment  herself. 
Because  she  hates  to  shop,  she  has  often 
asked  a  professional  decorator  to  do  the 
preliminary  scouting,  but  final  selection 
and  arrangements  have  been  hers.  And 
the  effect  is  unique.  Mary's  rooms  are 
planned  as  settings  for  people,  rather 
than  to  display  furniture.  They're  har- 
monious and  attractive  as  a  background, 
but  never  overwhelm  you. 

It  is  good  theater  without  ever  being 
theatrical. 

THE  Quiz  Kids  have  their  own  special 
spot.  That's  the  rumpus  room  in  the 
basement,  scene  of  the  annual  Christ- 
mas party,  and  "borrowed"  on  other 
occasions  to  entertain  the  radio  and 
stage  stars  who  head  for  the  Kellys'  to 
have  fun. 

Talk  to  these  friends  and  you'll  hear 
one  phrase  repeated  over  and  over. 
"We  always  have  a  magnificent  time. 
So  good  a  time,  in  fact,  we  don't  have 
sense  enough  to  leave.  Visit  the  Kellys 
and  you  just  never  go  home."  It's 
testimony  that  with  Mary  and  Joe,  good 
theater  also  proves  to  be  good  hos- 
pitality. 

From  the  kitchen  comes  a  shout, 
"Three  decker  coming  up." 

You  hasten  back  to  the  den.  The  pro- 
duction number  justifies  its  advance 
publicity.  It  takes  a  blueprint  rather 
than  a  recipe  to  chart  a  Joe  Kelly  sand- 
wich. Here's  the  way  he  described  the 
process: 

On  the  foundation  slice  of  fresh  bread, 
smoothly  spread  creamed  butter.  Next, 
set  in  place  quarter-inch  slices  of  ham. 
Spam  or  what  have  you.  Top  with 
mustard  and  spread  over  it  a  thin  layer 
of  Worcestershire  sauce.  Add  a  slice 
of  lettuce,  cutting  through  the  head 
rather  than  peeling  off  a  leaf.  Rounds 
of  sweet  pickle  come  next.  Spread  with 
mayonnaise. 

Fit  the  second  slice  of  bread  onto  the 
structure.  Spread  with  butter  and  may- 
onnaise. Place  Cheddar,  tangy  Old 
English  or  smoked  cheese  on  top. 
Spread  with  Worcestershire,  then  may- 
onnaise. (Hold  it  firmly.  It's  getting 
topheavy  by  this  time.)  Cut  a  slice 
from  the  biggest,  sweetest  Bermuda 
onion  you  can  find.  That's  the  climax. 
Anchor  with  the  third  slice  of  bread. 

Trim  off  the  crusts  with  a  very  sharp 
knife  and  cut  the  sandwich  into  fours 
before  serving.  This  is  important,  for 
anyone  who  attempts  to  break  it  into 
dainty  morsels  ruins  the  masterpiece. 
Spike  olives  with  toothpicks,  and  use 
these  to  fasten  each  section.  Serve 
with  cold  milk.         , 

Joe  watches  anxiously  as  you  take 
that  first  cautious  bite.  You're  a  little 
leery  of  it,  especially  that  onion. 

There's  a  hushed  pause  while  you 
get  the  first  bite  down.  Suddenly  you 
beam.  It's  a  perfectly  balanced  blend 
of  fiavors.  Onion  and  all,  it  tastes  just 
wonderful. 

"Thought  you'd  like  it,"  says  Joe 
with  satisfaction  "Joe  Jr.  and  his  friends 
always  did.    I'd  fix  up  a  flock  of  sand- 


wiches,  wrap  them  in  waxed  paper, 
and  leave  them  in  the  refrigerator.  The 
kids  would  come  piling  in  after  a 
basketball  game  or  dance  and  just 
gobble  them."  With  relish,  he  takes 
a  bite.  When  he  can  talk  again,  he  adds, 
"I've  got  an  ambition.  When  I  retire 
from  radio,  I'm  going  to  open  a  chain 
of  sandwich  shops." 

Retirement,  however,  appears  to  be  a 
long  way  off.  Quiz  Kids  continues  to 
draw  one  of  radio's  largest  audiences, 
and  additional  shows  constantly  are 
being  offered  him. 

Beyond  that,  Joe  has  some  coaching 
to  do.  Joe  Jr.  is  now  learning  his  radio 
at  WELL,  the  station  where  Joe  himself 
started.  When  he  acquires  enough 
microphone  know-how  to  move  to  the 
networks,  Joe  III  will  be  coming  up. 
He  cooed  and  squalled  with  poise  at 
his  mike  debut  during  the  Christmas 
party.  There's  an  unconfirmed  rumor 
the  Kellys  substitute  radio  circuits  for 
nervous    systems. 

Joe  flips  the  switch  of  the  tele- 
vision set.  You're  soon  into  a  techni- 
cal discussion  of  zoomar  lenses, 
lighting,    etc. 

Quiz  Kids  is  one  of  the  few  shows 

adaptable    to    simultaneous    radio    and 

TV  broadcast,   and  Joe  looks  forward 

to  the  time  the  audience  can  see  the 

kids  wave  their  hands  as  well  as  hear 

their  eager  shouts,  "I  know,  Mr.  Kelly." 

A  new  program   comes   on   and   Joe 

recognizes    its    origin.    "That's    an    old 

vaudeville   act.   Here,    I'll   show   you." 

You   pelt   after   him   along   the   hall 

I  to  the  living  room. 

I       Joe    sits   down    at   the    piano,    turns 

I  minstrel  man  again.  Mary  takes  up  the 

song.    They  go  into  a  duet  that's  their 

own  take-off  on  a  familiar  number. 

JOE  tells  a  story.  He  acts  it  out,  using 
that  well-planned  open  space.  You 
see  why  his  living  room  has  to  be  un- 
cluttered. 

He  bounces  back  to  the  piano,  goes 
into  the  Quiz  Kids  song  he  wrote :  * 
J       Why  did  London  Bridge  fall  down? 
I       Is  it  true  Jack  broke  his  crown? 
Just  ask  the  Quiz  Kids, 
They    know    all    the    answers. 
Was    Simple    Simon    really    dumb? 
How  big  was  Little  Tom  Thumb? 
The  Quiz  Kids,  those  whiz  kids, 
Just  ask  them  and  they'll  tell  you. 
Could  poor  Mother  Hubbard  afford  a 

cupboard? 
Can  a  cow  jump  over  the  moon? 
Who  found  the  sheep   lost  by  little 

Bo  Peep? 
Did    the    dish    run    away    with    the 

spoon? 
Was  old  King  Cole  such  a  merry  old 
soul? 
J       Who  were  Eenie,  Meenie,  Minie,  Mo? 
'       Just  ask  the  Quiz  Kids 

They're  sure  to  know. 

i       From  that,  he  swings  into  Irish  songs, 

I   and  even  though  you  know  you  can't 

sing,  you're  soon  making  like  Melchior, 

practically    drowning    out    Mary    and 

Joe.    It's  traditional  that  every  Kelly 

guest  winds  up  at  the  piano,  convinced 

he  is  possessed  of  undiscovered  talent. 

j       A    sidewise    glance    at    your    watch 

j   shocks  you.     You  had  no  idea  it  was 

(  that  late. 

j  You've  kept  the  record  intact.  Like 
'  all  the  rest,  you've  stayed  far  beyond 
I  a  reasonable  time.  And  also  like  all  the 
;,   rest,  you  have  enjoyed  every  moment 

of  it. 
j  Going  out  into  the  crisp  air,  you 
I  conclude  you  need  to  borrow  a  phrase 
\  from  the  circus.  For  the  greatest  show 
I  on  earth,  visit  Mary  and  Joe  Kelly. 
'Copyright  Famous  Music  Corp. 


I 


.  .  .  and  naturally,  when  he  came  home  from  a  long  trip, 
Mrs.  T.S.  was  very  happy — until  she  unpacked  his  bag. 

The  clean  white  shirts  he  took  away  always  came  back  with 

a  "mourning  band"  of  railroad  dust  ground  into  the  collars  and  cuffs. 

And  the  job  of  getting  those  shirts  white  again  was  not  only 

a  test  of  wifely  devotion — it  was  very  hard  on  the  shirts. 

The  happy  ending  to  this  story  came  the  first  time  Mrs.  T.S.  tried 
Fels-Naptha  Soap  Chips.  To  use  her  own  words,  "I  never  had 
any  white  shirts  come  out  any  whiter — and  no  rubbing!" 


P. S.— Golden  Fels-Naptha  Soap  gives  you 
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cleaner,  whiter  washes  in  less  time, 
with  less  hard,  tiring  work. 
Look  for  the  Fels-Naptha  Bar  or 
Fels-Naptha  Soap  Chips  next 
time  you're  out  shopping. 


MADE  IN  PHIL 

BY  PELS  &  ca 


GOLDEN  BAR  OR  GOLDEN  CHIPS 


Fels-Naptha  Soap 


BANISHES  "TATTLE-TALE  GRAY" 


R 
M 

79 


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ADDRESS 

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STATE 

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"Thanks  for  Listening" 

(Continued  from  page  25) 

changed  a  great  deal  since  I  first  went 
on  the  air.  That  was  on  May  1,  1931, 
eighteen  crowded  years  ago.  I  sang  on 
a  sustaining  program  over  CBS,  in  a 
small  studio  with  an  eight-piece  com- 
bination to  accompany  me,  and  I  was 
paid  fifty  dollars  a  week  for  five  fifteen- 
minute  programs.  A  studio  audience 
was  unknown  in  those  days — no,  that's 
not  quite  right.  Rudy  Vallee's  variety 
hour  had  a  studio  audience,  but  it  was 
separated  from  the  performers  by  a 
sheet  of  plate  glass,  so  there  was  no 
danger  of  its  laughter  or  applause  go- 
ing out  over  the  air! 

There  was  an  easy  comradeship  about 
radio  in  those  days  that's  missing,  some- 
how, from  the  broadcasting  machine  of 
today.  We  were  building  something, 
and  we  knew  it.  Sometimes  we  dis- 
agreed among  ourselves,  but  it  was  al-, 
ways  because  each  of  us  was  eager  toj 
create — and  always  there  were  the  par- 
ties, the  jokes,  the  informal  after- 
broadcast  get-togethers,  to  prove  that 
the  disagreement  didn't  cut  very  deep. , 

I  REMEMBER  a  night  when  I  intro- 
I  duced  one  of  your  a  ward- winners! 
for  the  first  time  on  the  air  as  a  solo  per-  ' 
former.  It  was  when  I  left  my  seven- 
o'clock  sustaining  spot  on  CBS  to  take 
my  first  commercial.  The  young  man 
whom  CBS  had  chosen  to  take  my  place 
was  virtually  unknown,  and  it  was  de- 
cided that  on  my  last  program  I  should 
introduce  him  to  the  listeners  and  ask 
him  to  sing  a  song  for  them.  I  don't 
think  Bing  Crosby — he  of  the  magnifi- 
cent poise — will  mind  at  this  late  date  if 
I  tell  you  that  as  we  stood  at  the  micro- 
phone that  evening,  he  was  one  of  the 
most  frightened  young  men  I  ever  saw. 
After  all,  he  had  a  good  reason — besides 
being  unknown,  he  was  suffering  from 
a  bad  case  of  laryngitis. 

But  perhaps  it  is  better  not  to  be  nos- 
talgic. Although  I  said  a  paragraph  or 
so  ago  that  radio  has  changed  since  I 
entered  it,  in  the  most  important  re- 
spect of  all  it  hasn't  changed  a  bit. 

Radio  is  still  a  personal  contact  be- 
tween someone  standing  or  sitting  at  a 
microphone  and  someone  sitting  near  a 
tuned-in  receiver.  Television,  as  it 
grows,  will  be  just  that  too,  only  in  its 
case  a  camera  is  added  to  the  micro- 
phone. Those  two  words,  personal  con- 
tact, are  the  mystery  and  the  glory  of 
radio  and  its  bouncing  new  brother, 
television.  We,  the  entertainers,  come 
into  your  homes.  (That  is,  if  you  in- 
vite us.)  We  are  a  part  of  your  daily 
lives — more  so  than  we  could  be  on  any 
other  medium,  the  movies  or  the  stage. 

That  personal  tie  is  still  as  strong  as 
it  ever  was.  How  can  I  doubt  it,  when 
I  read  the  thousands  of  letters  that 
come  to  me  every  week — friendly, 
chatty  letters  about  household  and 
neighborhood  events,  about  son  John's 
new  baby,  the  family  next  door,  Dad's 
illness  or  his  happy  recovery?  You  send 
me  a  new  recipe  for  apple  dump- 
lings. "Just  try  it,"  you  say.  "I  know 
you'll    like    it." 

I've  never  seen  your  faces,  but  you 
are  all  my  friends.  You  know  I'll  like 
the  apple  dumplings,  because — with  the 
certainty  of  old  friendship — you  know 
what  I  like. 

So  you  can  see  why,  besides  being 
proud  and  grateful,  I  am  also  humble, 
because  I  want  to  go  on  deserving  your 
precious  friendship. 

Thanks  for  reading! 


"I  Call  Him  Keighley" 

(Continued  from  page  37) 

the  camera  at  nine.    You  know,  darling, 
an  actress  really  works." 

My  director  husband,  who  could 
arise  at  eight  and  be  on  the  set  on  time, 
hunched  his  shoulders  and  turned  over. 
"Back  to  bed,"  he  ordered.  "Five-thirty 
rising  is  not  for  my  wife." 
"Whatever  you  say,"  I  sighed. 
That  scene  took  place  nine  years  ago. 
It  had  a  sequel.  On  an  occasion  only 
last  summer.  Bill  found  it  necessary  to 
make  a  flying  trip  to  New  York,  so  I 
followed  my  usual  routine  of  getting 
the  tickets,  packing,  calling  for  him  at 
the  studio,  and  accompanying  him  on 
the  journey.  We  were  in  the  air  over 
Phoenix  when  Bill  turned  to  me  casu- 
ally and  observed,  "Oh,  yes!  I  forgot  to 
tell  you  .  .  .  RKO  wanted  you  for  a  part 
in  the  next  Shirley  Temple  picture, 
"What  Every  Yoiang  Bride  Should 
Know.'  But  if  you  had  done  that  you 
couldn't  have  come  on  this  trip." 

Missing  a  trip  with  Keighley,  let's 
face  it,  would  be  my  idea  of  a  minor 
catastrophe.  I  would  give  up  the  best 
part  ever  written  if  it  interfered  with 
one  of  Bill's  numerous  careers. 

I      Bill's  is  the  most  agile  intellect  I've 

t  ever   encountered.     I  have  more  than 

'  my  opinion  to  offer  on  that- — I  think  his 
background  shows  it.    He  started  out  as 

1  an  actor,  and  was  successful  on  the 
stage  in  both  New  York  and  London. 

'  While  in  Hollywood  on  vacation,  he 
directed    several    productions    for    the 

I  Old  Curran  and  Belasco  theaters.  Then 
he  signed  with  Warner  Brothers  as  a 

'  movie  dialogue  director — his  first  brush 
with  films — became  a  co-director,  and 
ultimately  was  given  full  directorial 
charge  of  a  picture  called  "Easy  to 
Love,"  in  which  were  Adolph  Menjou, 

'  Mary  Astor,  Edward  Everett  Horton  .  .  . 
and  Genevieve  Tobin.  (That  was  1934. 
In  1938,  we  were  married.) 

I 

BILL   had   quite   a   number   of   screen 
successes  behind  him  when  he  came 
to  the  Lux  Radio  Theatre  in  1945,  after 
I  his  war  service.     In  fact,  many  of  the 
stars  he  directs  on  the  Radio  Theatre  he 
,  has   directed  in  films.     But  that's   far 
i  from  saying  that  he  uses  the  same  tech- 
niques in  his  radio  direction  as  he  does 
for  movies.    On  the  contrary — the  dif- 
ference   is    just    what    he    likes.      He 
finds  it  stimulating.    It  makes  for  more 
of   that   mental   agility   I   was   talking 
j  about. 

I      Take  for  example,  his  hobbies.  Most 
'  men  have  one  hobby;  Keighley  always 
1  has   several   afloat   at   the   same   time. 
j  When  he  became  interested  in  paint- 
ings, he  bought  every  art  encyclopedia, 
every  art  collector's  manual,  and  every 
book  of  art  criticism  he  could  find.  He 
steeped  himself  in  color  until  I  expected 
him    to    wear    a    rainbow    'round    his 
.-shoulder. 

Bill  loves  art  talk  and  artist's  talk, 
and  so  do  I.  He  and  a  group  of  our 
friends  involve  themselves  in  long  his- 
torical art  discussions  which  carry  far, 
far  into  the  night.  A  few  nights  aso, 
for  instance.  Bill  was  rustling  through 
a  copy  of  Bacon's  Atlas  for  1929  to  find 
an  answer  to  a  riddle  that  had  arisen  at 
two  o'clock  in  the  morning! 

At  first,  when  my  women  friends  be- 
gan to  hear  about  Bill's  art  hobby,  sev- 
eral of  them  said  in  dismay,  "However 
will  you  fit  a  collection  into  your  deco- 
rating scheme?" 

I  hadn't  given  it  a  thought  because 
Keighley  is  a  man  of  quite  good  taste. 
Also,  we're  fortunate  in  having  large. 


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of  creamy,  smooth  Fresh  we  will  send  you. 

Test  it.  Write  to  Fresh,  Chrysler  Building,  New  York,  for  your  free  jar. 

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R 
M 

81 


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City Zone.  . .  .State 


high-ceilinged  rooms.  With  a  color 
scheme  keyed  to  greys  and  muted  grey- 
greens,  there  isn't  anything  to  clash 
with  the  paintings  that  line  our  walls. 
The  truth  is  that  his  selection  of  paint- 
ings has  made  every  single  room  come 
alive.  It  never  occurred  to  me  to  ques- 
tion his  plans,  because  I  was  certain 
they  would  work  out  well.  He's  that 
sort  of  person.    He  manages  situations. 

I  learned  exactly  how  well  he  man- 
aged situations  when  we  were  on  our 
round-the-world  honeymoon.  We  were 
married  on  September  19,  1938,  and 
went  immediately  to  San  Francisco. 
From  there  we  went  to  Honolulu,  then 
to  Japan,  China,  Saigon,  Bangkok, 
Singapore,  Java,  Bali,  India,  Egypt, 
Italy,  up  through  Europe,  and  then 
home. 

During  that  trip.  Bill  took  pictures, 
pictures,  pictures.  Whenever  I  missed 
him  from  my  side  when  we  had  been 
studying  some  spectacular  view,  I  had 
only  to  glance  at  a  nearby  ledge  where 
he  would  be  hanging  precariously  by 
his  shoelaces  in  order  to  get  the  best 
possible  angle  shot.  Not  only  did  he 
make  a  photographic  record  in  color 
of  our  entire  trip  but  he  also  made  copi- 
ous notes.  When  it  was  inconvenient  to 
make  jottings  on  the  spot,  he  would 
wait  until  we  returned  to  our  hotel  in 
the  evening,  then  he  would  write  down 
collected  facts  about  stores,  streets, 
dwellings;  about  native  customs,  na- 
tive dress,   even  characteristic  sounds. 

THIS  has  been  of  enormous  help  in 
his  radio  work.  A  story  can  be  set  in 
almost  any  part  of  the  world,  yet  Bill 
will  be  able  to  suggest  authentic  de- 
tails which  should  be  worked  into  a 
script  to  give  it  validity  and  color. 

This  devotion  to  research  might  have 
proved  embarrassing  if  Bill  hadn't  been 
the  sort  of  resourceful  tactician  he  is. 
When  we  were  in  Japan,  we  promptly 
encountered  the  old-time  Japanese 
aversion  to  having  a  foreigner  around 
equipped  with  a  camera.  It  was  for- 
bidden for  anyone  to  take  a  picture 
which  included  anything  which  might 
remotely  concern  national  defense. 

Between  Tokyo  and  Yokohama  is 
the  Daibutsu  Shrine  with  its  massive 
Buddha,  Kamakura,  the  largest  in 
Japan.  Naturally,  Bill  wanted  to  in- 
clude it  in  our  newsreels.  When  we 
reached  the  shrine  we  found  that  not 
only  did  it  border  a  body  of  water — 
which  made  it  a  forbidden  subject — 
but  it  was  surrounded  by  sailors. 

My  husband  busied  himself  with  sev- 
eral official-looking  gentlemen.  I 
couldn't  hear  the  conversation,  but  it 
seemed  to  proceed  with  mutual  com- 
pliments and  an  air  of  cordiality.  The 
next  thing  I  knew,  my  diplomat  was 
taking  extensive  footage  of  the  hand- 
some object. 

He  has  never  told  me  how  he  blarnied 
the  official,  who  must  have  known  that 
relations  between  our  two  nations  were 
more  than  a  little  strained,  into  per- 
mitting him  to  take  his  pictures. 

In  our  household,  my  husband  is 
occasionally  called  "Invincible"  because 
of  another  of  his  triumphs  on  our  trip. 
No  matter  where  we  went,  he  ate  the 
native  foods  and  suffered  no  ill  effects. 
He  ate  sukiyaki  in  Japan,  dripping 
pressed  duck  in  China,  and  boiled  bird 
nests  in  Bangkok.  Most  of  the  time  I 
could  nibble  along  with  him. 

But  when  we  reached  Siam,  I  had  to 
resign.  Keighley  fell  in  love  with  a 
fruit  known  as  the  durian.  This  affair 
is  a  mielon-shaped  fruit  with  a  thick 
skin  which  is  peeled  back  to  disclose  a 
pinkish  flesh  similar  in  consistency  to 
a  banana.     In  a  picture,   this   agricul- 


tural product  has  charm,  but  no  picture 
has  a  sense  of  smell.  The  durian  smells 
like  limburger  smothered  in  rotten 
eggs 

My  husband,  holding  his  nose,  could 
eat  the  durian  and  enjoy  it.  I  couldn't 
even  watch  the  process.  I  think  you 
can   work  too   hard   for   an   education. 

This  is  a  sentiment  with  which  my 
husband  does  not  agree.  He  refuses  to 
miss  anything.  When  we  were  in 
Tokyo,  we  saw  portions  of  five  plays  in 
one  night,  and  Bill  went  backstage  in 
order  to  meet  the  entire  cast  of  each 
play.  When  we  were  in  Shanghai  we 
visited  four  playhouses  in  one  night, 
and  also  met  the  casts. 

He  likes  people  of  all  ages,  from  birth 
to  Methuselah.  He  likes  them  all 
shades,  sizes,  and  states  of  cleanliness. 
I  have  seen  him  shake  hands  with  a 
leper,  which  I  think  is  tops  in  brotherly 
love. 

I  don't  think  he  has  ever  met  a  hu- 
man being  whom  he  didn't  like  at  once. 
Sometimes  his  faith  has  been  abused 
and  his  trust  betrayed,  but  even  then  he 
has  given  his  fellow  man  the  benefit  of 
every  possible  doubt.  In  short,  Mr. 
William  Keighley  accepts  human  na- 
ture as  he  finds  it,  and  refuses  to  rule 
out  anyone  for  a  mistake,  intentional 
or  accidental. 

But  my  husband  doesn't  limit  his  in- 
terest to  human  beings.  At  the  other 
end  of  the  scale,  he  also  likes  worms. 
I  think  he  has  around  nine  billion 
earthworms  quartered  here  and  there 
around  our  -  garden.  Bill  says  that  I 
exaggerate  every  story  I  tell,  so  I  sup- 
pose I  should  be  conservative  and  admit 
that  he  only  has  eight  billion. 

Earthworms,  I  have  learned  from 
Farmer  Keighley,  are  sort  of  minute, 
round-bladed  plows.  They  eat  their 
own  weight  in  dirt,  twice  a  day.  This 
aerates  the  soil,  which  is  very  good 
for  plants  of  all  types.  All  of  which 
brings  up  the  fact  that  my  husband  is 
an  ardent  gardener. 

Between  pictures  and  when  he  is  not 
busy  with  his  chores  for  the  Lux  Radio 
Theatre,  he  may  be  found  in  disrepu- 
table levis,  an  earthy  blue  shirt  and  a 
tattered  old  sweater,  coaxing  some 
shrub,  tree,  or  flower  into  more  aban- 
doned bloom.  On  our  hilltop  he  grows 
nearly  a  hundred  different  varieties  of 
flowers,  along  with  an  assortment  of 
such  trees  as  lemon,  orange,  coral, 
monkey,  cork,  peach,  and  tangerine. 
He  also  nurtures  sixteen  avocado  trees, 
which  is  my  idea  of  a  good  joke. 

KEIGHLEY  loathes  avocados.  He 
raises  the  trees  only  because  they 
challenge  the  ingenuity  of  any  garden- 
er with  their  reluctance  to  produce 
really  fine  fruit. 

I  would  not  have  anyone  think  that 
this  concentration  on  gardening  sug- 
gests a  cloddish  or  lackadaisical  form  of 
mind.  There  is  no  one  as  full  of  drive 
and  humor  as  Bill,  once  he  is  stripped 
of  his  canvas  gloves  and  his  trowel. 

During  the  war,  for  instance,  he 
joined  the  Army  Air  Force  and  was 
given  a  major's  commission  (later  he 
was  retired  as  a  colonel)  and  an  as- 
signment to  develop  the  Force's  com- 
bat photographic  units.  I  knew  in 
general  that  we  were  going  to  give  up 
our  California  home  temporarily  and 
live  in  Washington,  but  I  knew  very 
little  about  what  Bill  would  have  to  do 
to  qualify  for  all  his  responsibilities  un- 
til—one morning— I  received  one  of 
those  non-committal  little  cards  sent 
out  by  the  War  Department. 

It  notified  me  that  my  husband  was 
physically  able  to  fly  at  altitudes  rang- 
ing up  to  thirty  ti^'"'=:and  feet. 


I  dropped  the  notification  from 
nerveless  fingers,  and  it  fell-  on  a  news- 
paper beside  an  item  which  told  of  the 
collapse  of  a  series  of  football  players 
when  subjected  to  conditions  which 
simulated  flying  at  an  altitude  of  twelve 
thousand  feet. 

The  boys  blacked  out;  my  husband, 
who,  durmg  the  first  World  War  was 
working  with  Lewis  Stone  and  Henry 
Stephenson  in  "Inside  the  Lines"  and 
with  John  Barrymore  in  "Richard  III,'" 
was  able  to  fiy  at  thirty  thousand  feet 
and  feel  just  fine. 

I  am  a  little  smug  about  this. 

I  am  sternly  forbidden,  in  our  house- 
hold, to  utter  one  single  word  about  my 
husband's  war  record.  It  was  a  good 
one;  I  am  determined  to  report  that 
General  Arnold  himself  said  that  Bill 
took  the  Air  Corps  Photographic  Unit 
when  it  didn't  have  a  Brownie  and  de- 
veloped it  into  an  outfit  superior  even 
to  the  highly  equipped  and  briskly 
trained  German  units. 

HIS  mother  lives  with  us  now,  but 
during  the  war  he  would  telephone 
her  at  her  Hollywood  hotel  suite  when- 
ever he  hit  town,  and  give  her  one  of 
his  impersonation  routines.  At  one  time 
he  announced  that  he  was  the  desk 
clerk  (mimicking  the  man  perfectly) 
and  that  there  had  been  complaints 
about  Mrs.  Keighley  having  a  gentle- 
man caller  in  her  suite.  You  can  imag- 
ine the  indignation  which  this  caused. 
Mrs.  Keighley  asked  the  clerk  to  come 
upstairs  at  once  for  conference.  When 
she  opened  the  door.  .  .  .  Ah,  great  re- 
union! 

"The  next  time  I  will  not  be  fooled," 
she  said. 

The  next  time  an  "Italian  plumber" 
asked  her  to  fill  her  tub  with  water  be- 
cause the  pipes  were  to  be  drained  for 
two  days.  Bill  nearly  joined  the  Navy 
when  his  mother  learned  the  truth 
about  that  one. 

No  one  should  draw  the  conclusion 
that  Bill  is  not  a  great  sentimentalist, 
because  he  is.  For  our  first  anniversary 
he  gave  me  a  solid  gold  bowknot  set 
with  small  diamonds. 

For  our  tenth  anniversary  he  added 
a  second  gold  bowknot  to  the  set.  He 
slipped  the  clip  out  of  its  strongbox, 
unknown  to  me,  had  it  copied,  and  re- 
turned it  to  the  safe  before  I  missed  it. 
When,  on  our  anniversary  morning,  I 
opened  the  velvet  jeweler's  box  and 
discovered  that  the  two  knots  could 
be  attached  to  form  one  resplendent 
brooch,  I  was  overwhelmed  with  tears. 

We  plan  to  spend  the  summer  of 
1949  in  France,  so  my  farsighted  hus- 
band has  already  started  our  prepara- 
tions: another  of  my  Christmas  gifts 
was  a  huge  brown  calfskin  purse.  It 
i  is  about  eighteen  inches  in  diameter, 
^  and  it  is  fitted  with  a  kingsize  coin 
purse,  a  passport  holder,  and  a  series  of 
zippered  compartments. 

Not  only  has  he  taken  steps  to  pre- 
pare me  for  the  trip,  he  also  has  begun 
a  refresher  course,  for  two  hours  each 
day,  in  French. 

When  one  of  our  friends  asked  if  I 
were  studying  with  him,  Bill  answered 
with  a  chuckle,  "Genevieve  doesn't 
need  to  speak  the  language  more  flu- 
ently than  she  learned  to  do  when  she 
was  a  youngster  in  school  in  Paris.  She 
has  always  used  her  hands  and  her 
eyes  to  get  anything  she  wanted." 

I  know  that  modesty  should  fore- 
stall my  repeating  this  praise,  but 
every  married  woman  who  reads  this 
will  know  how  much  the  teasing  ten- 
derness of  a  husband  can  mean.  Par- 
ticularly when  that  husband  is  as  fas- 
cinating as  Mr.  William  Keighley. 


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5.  Same  shampoo  Richard  Hudnut 
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luxury  treatments! 


R 

M 

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R 

M 

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THE  TELEPHONE  skits  on  CBS's  Jack 
Benny  Program,  in  which  two  saucy- 
voiceci  "hello  girls"  keep  cutting  in 
on  conversations,  are  some  of  the  choic- 
est bits  on  the  Waukegan  Wit's  show. 

The  operators  are  played  by  Sara 
Berner  and  Bea  Benadaret,  two  of 
radio's  top  character  actresses. 

Sara  Berner's  theatrical  career  be- 
gan as  a  baby  sitter  for  her  brother  in 
Tulsa,  Okla.  Brother  liked  westerns, 
she  loved  the  drama.  So,  having  de- 
posited her  young  relative  in  the  local 
"Ride  'Em,  Cowboy"  movie  house,  she 
was  off  to  the  Orpheum  Theatre  where 
she  sat  enthralled  through  a  silent  pic- 
ture and  several  vaudeville  acts. 

She  was  fascinated  by  the  leading 
ladies,  the  comediennes  and  even  the 
dowagers.  She  studied  their  facial  ex- 
pressions, mannerisms  and  their  various 
methods  of  acting.  When  the  bill  was 
over,  she'd  repair  to  the  ladies'  lounge 
where  she  entertained  the  attendant 
(and  scared  the  other  customers)  with 
an  amateur  version  of  what  she'd  just 
seen  and  heard. 

Thus  was  evolved  Sara  the  Mimic, 
who  today  delights  radio  audiences  with 
her  roles  of  Jack  Benny's  airwave  girl- 
friend, Gladys  Zybisco,  as  well  as 
Mable  Fiapsaddle,  the  Brooklyn-voiced 
telephone  operator. 

One  of  four  children,  Sara  was  born 
in  Albany,  N.  Y,  Her  father,  an  auc- 
tioneer, moved  his  family  to  Tulsa, 
where  Sara  attended  both  grade  school 
and  high  school.  Naturally,  she  took 
part  in  the  school  plays  but  her  first 
real  dramatic  effort  took  place  just  fol- 
lowing graduation,  when  she  was  given 
the  role  of  Mrs.  Cohen  in  the  initial 
amateur  presentation  of  "Abie's  Irish 
Rose."  She  remembers  proudly  that  the 
players  grossed  $1,000  from  a  three- 
night  stand. 

Soon  after.  Father  Herdan  moved  his 
family  east  again,  this  time  to  Philadel- 
phia. Sara  went  to  work  as  a  salesgirl 
in  Wanamaker's  department  store, 
where  life  was  bearable  only  when  she 
had  time  to  mimic  the  customers. 

One  day  she  picked  the  wrong  mo- 
ment— and  customer — to  mimic.  An 
elderly  Main  Line  dowager  whom  Sara 
thought  had  left  was  one  of  the  inter- 
ested viewers  of  a  shredding  imper- 
sonation of  herself.  That  night,  as  Sara 
walked  by  the  statue  of  John  Wana- 
maker  for  the  last  time,  she  promised 


herself  that  someday  she  would  return, 
not  as  a  salesgirl  but  as  one  of  the 
customers. 

She  had  not  lost  her  theatrical  ambi- 
tions. She  spent  all  her  spare  time  at 
Columbia's  station  WCAU.  Counting 
the  experience  more  valuable  than  the 
few  dollars  to  a  budding  amateur,  Sara 
played  running  parts,  impromptu  roles, 
last  minute  substitutes,  anything  and 
everything. 

"In  those  early  radio  days,"  says 
Sara,  "we  thought  nothing  of  doing 
umpteen  shows  a  day,  switching  from 
one  dialect  co  another  at  a  moment's 
notice.  It  was  wonderful  experience 
and  I  finally  wound  up  with  my  own 
fifteen  minute  show,  written  by  Arthur 
Q.  Bryan.  At  that  time  Jan  Savitt  was 
staff  conductor  for  WCAU." 

Later,  Sara  headed  for  New  York  to 
be  closer  to  the  growing  hub  of  radio. 
Getting  a  salesgirl  job  in  a  millinery 
shop  on  Broadway,  she  continued  her 
rounds  in  an  attempt  to  break  into 
radio  as  a  professional.  Never  one  to 
miss  an  opportunity,  she  entered  her 
name  for  the  Major  Bowes  amateur 
show.  Her  appearance  flooded  the 
Major  with  phone  calls,  and  so  tremen- 
dous was  her  debut  that  the  following 
morning  she  joined  the  Bowes  Number 
One  theatre  troupe.  Several  years  of 
cross-country  touring  gave  Sara  the 
polish  and  assurance  she  needed.  Then 
she  went  back  to  radio,  where  she's 
been  ever  since. 

Five  feet,  three  inches  tall,  weighing 
a  scant  115  pounds,  Sara  has  reddish- 
brown  hair  and  brown  eyes  asparkle 
with  energy.  During  the  war,  she  es- 
tablished a  record  of  more  than  1100 
camp  shows,  innumerable  canteen  ap- 
pearances, an  entertainment  stint  on 
the  aircraft  carrier  Saratoga  for  the 
Navy  and  junkets  to  entertain  the 
Armed  Forces  at  desert  camps  where  it 
was  140  degrees  in  the  shade. 

Besides  her  roles  on  the  Jack  Benny 
program,  Sara  also  has  been  heard  on 
the  Amos  'n'  Andy  show.  Her  voice  has 
been  heard  in  five  Academy  Award- 
winning  cartoons,  including  "Red  Hot 
Riding  Hood,"  "Mother  Goose  Goes 
Hollywood"  and  others.  She  also  has 
done  the  cartoon  voices  of  "Little 
Jasper." 

Her  squeaky-voiced  role  of  the  ani- 
mated mouse  with  Gene  Kelly  in  "An- 
chors Aweigh"  helped  add  "Look  at 
me,  I'm  dancing!"  to  American  jargon. 


listen  to 


VIC  DAMONE 

voted  by  the  country's  disc  jockeys  as 
"The  Most  Promising  Singer  Of  1949." 
Every  Saturday  Night, 
•  7:30  EST,  NBC  Stations 


Read:   Vic  Damone's  own  true  story  in  April       ^' 

I  lillll^   W  I  wll  I     magazine  on  ncAVSstands  March  16. 


The  Wever  Way 

(Continued  from  page  41) 

Koko  tries  to  bark  a  word  in  edgewise 
as  Pam  points  to  a  scraped  shin  suffered 
in  a  spill  while  biking  home  from 
school  and  Pat  starts  demonstrating  a 
tricky  new  tap  step  she  learned  that 
afternoon  in  dancing  class.  The  hulla- 
baloo subsides  only  after  Carla  inter- 
venes with  a  few  firmly-voiced  en- 
treaties .  .  .  whereupon  she  manages 
to  get  in  a  word  or  two  about  the  day's 
events  on  the  domestic  front. 

"It  is  Carla  who  runs  the  house  to 
perfection — and  without  a  maid,"  Ned 
acknowledges,  adding,  "I  met  Carla  at 
a  cocktail  party  and  never  suspected 
that  beneath  all  that  glamor  lurked  the 
soul  of  an  efficiency-expert.  She's  more 
than  a  hausfrau.    She's  a  homemaker." 

MRS.  WEVER'S  homemaking  is  not  of 
the  push-button,  daily-memo-to- 
the-staff-of-servants  sort.  Aided  only 
by  her  mother,  who  lives  with  them, 
Carla  is  her  own  maid.  She  does  the  in- 
evitable Monday  laundry,  shops,  plans 
and  cooks  the  meals,  cleans  house. 

Even  so,  Ned  might  almost  accurately 
'refer  to  her  as  a  "hausfrau"— on  the 
basis  of  national  origin,  anyway.  She 
hails  from  the  city  of  Frankfurt-Am- 
Main,  Germany,  but  she  has  been  a 
resident  of  this  country  since  the  early 
1930s.  When  Ned  met  her,  Carla  had 
been  living  in  New  York  three  years. 
Nowadays,  only  a  delightful  accent 
hints  at  her  German  background. 

The  Wever  home  is  an  eye-pleasing 
succession  of  seven  lovely  rooms,  each 
done  in  a  different  pastel  color.  "Every- 
thing you  see  here — the  furniture  ar- 
rangement, the  draperies,  the  color 
scheme,  everything  I  have  designed 
myself,"  Carla  will  tell  a  new  visitor 
and,  with  justifiable  pride,  she  adds, 
"Even  the  wallpaper  in  our  guest  room 
I  have  put  up  myself." 

Once  a  week,  Carla  swaps  her  home- 
making  for  glamor.  Once  a  week  she 
gets  dressed  in  her  chic  best,  says  fare- 
well to  the  house,  to  Pat,  to  Pam  and 
her  mother,  and  takes  the  four-some- 
thing to  New  York.  Arriving  there,  she 
cabs  it  straight  to  the  Stork  Club,  the 
Wevers'  favorite  rendezvous.  Not  many 
minutes  later,  Ned,  just  finished  with 
his  broadcast,  walks  in  and  together 
they  sip  a  cocktail  or  two.  Then  dine 
I.  .  .  and  then  they  take  in  a  musical  or 
I  a  play.  The  arrangement  provides  a 
nicely  balanced  mode  of  life  for  those 
I  two  very  urbane  people. 
1  Ned  is  one  of  those  rare  characters  in 
/the  entertainment  world— a  native  New 
Yorker.  After  completing  his  grammar 
grades  in  Manhattan,  Ned  attended 
prep  school  at  Pawling,  New  York.  He 
figured  actively  in  dramatics  ...  a  bit 
I  more  actively  than  his  father  wished. 

Wever  senior  was  a  prominent  New 
York  attorney.  Quite  understandably, 
he  wanted  Ned  to  follow  him  in  the 
legal  profession.  To  Ned's  way  of  think- 
ing, though,  the  sock-and-buskin  was 
infinitely  more  fascinating.  Ned  effec- 
tively pleaded  his  case,  whereupon 
his  father  asked,  "If  you  want  to  go  on 
the  stage  that  badly,  why  bother  with 
any  further  education?" 

With  persuasive  eloquence,  Ned 
pointed  out  that  a  career  on  the  stage 
called  for  the  same  degree  of  intellec- 
tual preparation  and  training  as  did  a 
career  in  the  courts.  Ned  won  a  favor- 
able decision,  was  enrolled  at  Princeton. 

During  most  of  his  four  years  there, 
he  was  a  member  of  the  editorial  staff 
of  the  Daily  Princetonian  ...  on  the  edi- 


Beautif  uly  Heavenly  Lips 

For  You 
WITHOUT  LIPSTICK 


m  .  .  And  These  Newly  Luscious  Colors 
Can't  Come  Off  on  Anything 

Bid  "good-bye"  to  lipstick  and  see  your  lips  more  beautiful  than  ever  before. 
See  them  decked  in  a  clear,  rich  color  of  your  choice— a  color  more  alive 
than  lipstick  colors,  because— no  grease.  Yes,  Liquid  Liptone  contains  no 
grease— no  wax— no  paste.  Just  pure,  vibrant  color.  Truly,  Liquid  Liptone 
brings  your  lips  color-beauty  that  is  almost  too  attractive! 

Makes  the  Sweetest  Kiss 
Because  It  Leaves  No  Mark  on  Him 

Think  of  it!  Not  even  a  tiny  bit  of  your  Liquid  Liptone  leaves  your  lips  for 
his— or  for  a  napkin  or  tea-cup.  It  stays  true  to  your  lips  alone  and  one  make-up 
with  Liquid  Liptone  usually  suffices  for  an  entire  day  or  evening. 

Feels    Marvelous    On    Your    Lips  —  They    Stay   Soft    and    Smooth 

In  fact,  you  can't  feel  Liquid  Liptone  at  all.  Nor  can  you  taste  it.  And  all  it 
does  to  your  lips  is  protect  them  against  wind  and  chap.  They  stay  naturally 
soft  and  smooth. 

PLEASE  TRY  SEVERAL  SHADES 
AT  MY  INVITATION 

Once  you  experience  the  greater  beauty  of  greaseless  color  and 
the  confidence  of  knowing  that  your  lip  make-up  will  stay  on 
no  matter  what  your  lips  touch— I  am  sure  you  will  thank  me 
for  making  this  offer.  Mark  the  coupon  for  the  shades  you  want. 
(Each  trial  hottle  is  a  week's  supply.)  Enclose  12^  for  each 
shade  to  cover  postage  and  packing.  Sincerely, 

Princess  Pat 

liquid  liptone 

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Miss 
Mrs_ 


D  Medium — Noturol  true  red. 

D  Gypsy — Vibrant  deep  red. 

n  Regal — Glamorous  burgundy. 

D  Searlel — Flaming  red. 

D  Orchid — Exotic  pink. 

D  Clear — Colorless. 

n  CHEEKTONE— "Magic"  natural  color.     City_ 


Street. 


--Zone. 


85 


^auT»  ^2i3e  is  vpu^  foKuTie-.^but  t^out*  feure's  ftrtun^ 


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inlaid  with  the  two 
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longer!  Such  beautiful 
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wonderful  dream!  I 
hope  it  comes  true! 


R 

m 
86 


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\ 


loriat  Doara  oi  i'ne  I'lger,  the  humorous 
monthly  ...  an  editor  and  contributor 
to  Princeton's  Nassau  Literary  Maga- 
zine ...  a  working  member  of  the 
Princeton  Press  Club,  through  which  he 
functioned  as  campus  correspondent  to 
New  York  metropolitan  newspapers. 

And,  as  if  all  that  pencil-pushing 
didn't  occupy  enough  of  his  time,  Ned 
was  active  with  Princeton's  Triangle 
Club,  famous  for  its  presentation  of 
original  musical  comedies.  Identified 
with  Triangle  productions  during  each 
of  his  four  years  at  college,  he  acted 
in  principal  roles,  became  its  president 
and,  in  his  senior  year,  wrote  the  book, 
lyrics,  music,  acted  in  and  directed 
its  "They  Never  Come  Back."  i 

"The  fact  is,  I'd  turned  professional  I 
even  before  I  finished  with  my  thesping  ■ 
at  Princeton,"  says  Ned.  "In  between  my 
sophomore  and  junior  years,  I  did  sum- 
mer stock  with  the  Stuart  Walker  Com- 
pany in  Indianapolis.  That  took  the 
curse  off  my  amateur  training  when 
I  began  making  the  rounds  after  grad- 
uation." 


EVIDENTLY,  the  Triangle  Club-Stuart 
Walker  experience  was  just  the  right 
blend  of  collegiate-professional  train- 
ing. At  any  rate,  they  combined  to 
insure  Ned's  immediate  acceptance  on 
Broadway.  Only  months  after  com- 
pleting college,  producers  of  "The  Fan" 
cast  him  in  a  key  role.  Subsequently, 
he  played  important  roles  in  Broadway 
plays  with  Paul  Kelly,  Grace  George, 
Melvyn  Douglas  and  other  stage  no- 
tables. He  clicked  brilliantly  in  the 
Scott  Fitzgerald-Owen  Davis  version  of 
"The  Great  Gatsby."  In  fact,  the  per- 
formance of  young  Edward  H.  Wever 
(for  his  full  name  always  appeared  in 
the  programs)  was  almost  always 
singled  out  for  special  praise. 

Having  gained  acceptance  along  Shu- 
bert  Alley,  Ned  sought  recognition  on 
Tin  Pan  Alley.  Mindful  of  his  senior 
year  Triangle  Club  triumph,  Ned  began 
to  utilize  the  remainder  of  his  very 
valuable  training  at  Princeton.  He 
turned  his  pen  to  writing  song  lyrics. 

In  due  time,  he  held  membership  in 
the  American  Society  of  Composers, 
Authors  and  Publishers  (ultimate  goal 
of  any  tunesmith)  with  such  popular 
songs  as  "Spellbound,"  "I  Can't  Resist 
You,"  "Trouble  In  Paradise,"  "Trust  In 
Me"  and  others.  Ned  flashed  off  a  brace 
of  special  lyrics  for  Billy  Rose's  "Crazy 
Quilt"  revue.  One  of  them,  "I  Wanna 
Do  a  Number  With  The  Boys,"  sung 
by  Fanny  Brice,   was  a  show-stopper. 

At  one  end  of  the  large  living  room 
in  the  house  on  Random  Road,  there  are 
a  small  desk  and  a  spinet  piano  and  a 
considerable  part  of  Ned's  spare  time 
is  spent  at  them,  developing  ideas  for 
the  lyrics  of  tomorrow's  hit  tunes. 

Like  most  prominent  actors,  Ned 
is  frequently  the  target  for  the  inevi- 
table  "How  can  I  break  into   radio?" 

"Frankly,  I  don't  know  the  formula, 
if  there  is  any  such  thing,"  he  says.  "I 
got  in  by  the  merest  fluke.  One  day,  in 
the  early  thirties,  I  had  business  at 
Chamberlain  Brown's  office.  After  leav- 
ing him,  I  chanced  to  turn  east  instead 
of  west  on  45th  Street.  Because  of  that, 
I  ran  into  Allyn  Marsh,  a  fellow  Prince- 
ton alumnus  who  was  then  a  sales  exec- 
utive for  Columbia  Broadcasting  Sys- 
tem. We  exchanged  the  usual  greeting 
and  chatter  and,  although  I  had  a  stage 
commitment  at  the  time,  I  remarked, 
'I  understand  you  use  actors  in  radio.' 

"Allyn  evidently  took  that  as  a  bid 
for  work.  A  week  later,  he  sent  me  a 
letter  of  introduction,  a  sort  of  open- 
sesame  to  the  CBS  production  people  , 
An  audition  was  arranged.  I  stood  at  the 


microphone  while  a  director,  giving  me 
a  few  instructions,  put  a  script  in  my 
hand.  Then  he  started  walking  away. 
I  followed,  thinking  that  was  the  proper 
thing  to  do.  He  waved  me  back,  saying, 
'No,  Mr.  Wever.  I  listen  to  you  inside 
that  control  room.  You  stand  at  that 
mike  and  talk.' 

"I  went  back  to  the  microphone  and 
had  my  first  look  at  the  script.  It  was 
written  for  two  parts,  Joe  and  Mary. 
'Read  both  parts,  won't  you,  Mr. 
Wever?'  said  the  director.  I  read  Joe's 
lines  and,  so  help  me,  I  read  Mary's 
lines.  The  whole  thing  took  a  merciful 
three  minutes.  The  director  came  out  of 
hiding,  walked  up  to  me  and  said,  'Not 
bad,  Mr.  Wever.  Can  you  start  work 
Thursday?'  And  that's  how  I  got  into 
radio." 

Mere  fluke,  magic  formula  or  what- 
ever it  might  be  called,  that  "Joe"  and 
"Mary"  audition  resulted  in  establish- 
ing Ned  Wever's  voice  as  one  of  the 
most  popular  and  familiar  in  dramatic 
air  fare.  He  has  played  the  title  roles 
in  Bulldog  Drummond  and  Dick  Tracy. 
For  years,  he's  been  leading  man  not 
only  in  Young  Widder  Brown  but  also 
in  Lora  Lawton,  Angel  Of  Mercy,  Man- 
hattan Mother  and  Valiant  Lady.  He 
has  played  regular  parts  in  Perry 
Mason  and  Big  Sister.  He  has  been 
called  upon  to  fill  key  roles  in  major 
programs  like  Mr.  Keen,  Tracer  of  Lost 
Persons,  Mystery  Theatre,  My  True 
Story  and  Cavalcade  Of  America.  He 
has  played  leads  opposite  such  ac- 
tresses as  Margalo  Gilmore,  Ruth  Chat- 
terton,  Irene  Rich  and  Helen  Hayes. 

He  has  done  leading  roles  in  about 
thirty  playlets  for  NBC  television  ex- 
periments. At  present,  in  association 
with  a  group  of  video  producers,  Ned  is 
awaiting  developments  that  will  launch 
him  in  an  important  dramatic  series. 

He  believes  television  won't  be  as 
rough  a  road  to  success  for  the  individ- 
ual actor  as  radio  has  been.  It's  much 
harder,  he  feels,  to  make  a  name  in  an 
unidentifiable  medium  like  radio.  The 
audience  gets  only  half  of  the  actor's 
personality,  he  maintains,  and  the  actor 
cannot  canitalize  on  one  hundred  per- 
cent of  what  he  has  to  offer. 

BUT  how  about  the  medium  in  which 
he  has  just  earned  the  Radio  Mirror 
Award  for  "best  actor"?  How  about 
daytime  serials,  otherwise  known  as  .  .  . 

"I  bristle  when  I  read  and  hear  gags 
about  'soap  operas',"  Ned  Wever  de- 
clares. "Not  because  I'm  sensitive  about 
playing  in  them.  Quite  the  contrary,  I 
regard  it  as  a  privilege.  But  those  gags 
reflect  a  lot  of  shallow  thinking.  More 
and  more,  people  are  showing  a  ten- 
dency to  make  and  accept  unfair  gen- 
eralizations. All  labor  is  communist. 
All  vegetarians  are  crackpots.  All 
Catholics  are  this.  All  Jews  are  that. 
No,  I  regard  that  kind  of  'label-it-and- 
damn-it'  thinking  as  downright  dan- 
gerous, both  socially  and  culturally. 

"Of  course  some  daytime  dramas  are 
mediocre,  but  not  necessarily  all  of 
them.  It's  true  that  some  night-time 
radio  is  excellent,  but  not  necessarily 
all  of  it.  How  can  you  generalize?  I 
maintain  that,  by  and  large,  'Young 
Widder  Brown'  is  as  well-written  as 
any  drama  on  the  air.  As  Doctor  Lor- 
ing,  I've  had  scenes  in  it  that  I'd  be 
pleased  to  play  on  Broadway.  Let's  be 
discriminating.  Let's  judge  radio  pro- 
grarns  on  their  merits." 

His  vigorous  defense  hardly  seems 
necessary,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  such 
a  large  number  of  discriminating  lis- 
teners have  passed  favorable  judgment 
— not'  onlv  on  daytime  serials  but  also 
on  Ned  Wever's  acting  in  them. 


New  York  —  Gorgeous  Pat  Barnard  always 
looks  "just  right."  "Noxzema  is  part  of  my 
regular  beauty  routine,"  says  Pat.  "It's  cer- 
tainly helped  improve  my  complexion." 


Vaneoover_"Noxzema  has  helped  my  skin 
so  much,"  says  charming  Bette  Morphett,  "that 
it's  now  my  regular  night  cream,  hand  cream, 
and  powder  base." 


Montreal  -"My  skin  was  so  dry  and  flaky  I 
couldn't  use  powder,"  says  lovely  Pat  Hesel- 
ton.  "But  since  using  Noxzema  as  my  powder 
base,  rough,  dry  skin  is  no  longer  a  problem." 


Washington  — Mrs.  Betty  Bridges  first  used 
Noxzema  for  sunburn.  Now  it's  her  all-purpose 
cream.  "I  use  it  every  night  to  help  keep  my 
skin  looking  smooth,  free  from  blemishes." 


Do  you  kno^  their  startling 

NEW  BEAUTY  SECRET? 


If  You  Have  Some  Little  Thing 
Wrong  With  Your  Skin-Read  On! 

•  Recently  we've  been  calling  on  scores 
of  women  asking  about  their  beauty 
problems.  Here  are  the  views  of  four 
typical  women  who  are  using  a  new 
idea  in  heauty— Medicated  Skin  Care. 

New  Beauty  Routine 

Now  there  is  a  simple  home  treatment 
developed  by  a  doctor.  181  women  from 
all  walks  of  life  took  part  in  a  skin  im- 
provement test  supervised  by  3  noted 
skin  specialists.  Each  woman  had  some 
little  thing  wrong  with  her  skin. 

Based  On  Scientific  Testing 

Each  woman  followed  faithfully  Nox- 
zema's  new  4-Step  Medicated  Beauty 
Routine  developed  by  a  skin  specialist. 
At  7-day  intervals,  their  skin  was  exam- 
ined through  a  magnifying  lens.  Here 
are  the  astonishing  results :  Of  all  these 
women,  4  out  of  5  showed  softer, 
smoother,  lovelier-looking  skin  in  just 
two  weeks! 


If  you  want  an  aid  to  a  lovelier-look- 
ing skin,  if  you  suffer  from  rough,  dry 
skin,  externally-caused  blemishes,  chap- 
ping or  other  similar  skin  troubles  — 
get  acquainted  with  this  startling  new 
beauty  secret  now. 

4-Step  Beauty  Routine  ! 

1.  Morning— bathe  face  with 
warm  water,  apply  Noxzema 
with  a  wet  cloth  and  "cream- 
wash''  your  face. 

2.  Apply  Noxzema  as  a  powder  base. 

3.  Before  retiring,  repeat  morning 
cleansing. 

4.  Massage  Noxzema  lighdy  into  your 
face  ...  a  little  extra  over  blemishes. 

Used  By  Millions 

Try  it.  Start  using  Noxzema  regularly, 
morning  and  night.  See  why  over 
25,000,000  jars  are  sold  yearly.  See  if 
you  aren't  amazed  at  the  astonishing 
way  it  can  help  your  skin.  At  all  drug 
and  cosmetic  counters,  40«!  60^,  $1.00 
plus  tax. 


R 

M 

87 


ee»tle«f» 


6i«l*, 


Let  Nestle  Colorinse  give  your 
hair  sparkling,  natural-looking  color  and 
highlights.  Not  a  permanent  dye  or  a 
bleach.  Nestle  Colorinse  washes  out 
completely  with  shampooing.  Delicately 
scented,  easy  and  absolutely  safe  to  use. 

COLORINSE 


The  Most  Important  Things 

{Continmd  from  page  63) 


LOOK  FOR  NESTLE  COLORINSE  . . . 

in  your   favorite  variety  store  during 
National  Brands  Week,  March  4-12,1949 

NntM*  originators  of  -ermanontwovlm-  WorWw.CoiMI. 


at  the  kite  string  then  and  during  the 
opening  week  in  New  York,  he  worked 
hard  to  make  his  band  a  hit.  At  the  end 
of  seven  days,  the  theater  had  lost  $30,- 
000. 

"We're  going  to  have  to  let  you  go," 
the  manager  said. 

"Give  us  a  decent  chance,"  Horace 
urged. 

"Sorry.    You're  through." 

Horace  remembered  the  papers  he 
had  signed  only  a  few  days  before. 

"You  can't  fire  us,"  he  told  the  man- 
ager.   "We've  got  a  year's  contract." 

The  manager  shrugged  and  said,  "In 
the  contract  is  a  clause  that  says  the 
agreement  may  be  broken  by  an  act  of 
God."  He  smiled  without  joy.  "When 
we  lose  $30,000  in  one  week,  that's  an 
act  of  God." 

WHY  had  he  flopped?  Horace  got  off 
by  himself  to  analyze  the  band  busi- 
ness and  immediately  realized  that  the 
only  successful  orchestras  were  those 
with  a  radio  reputation.  So  he  took  his 
outfit  back  to  the  West  Coast  and  con- 
centrated on  developing  a  good  radio 
show. 

"And  I  was  up  bright  and  early  every 
morning  knocking  on  doors,"  he  will 
tell  you.  "Every  time  a  big  executive 
came  to  town,  I  met  him  and  gave  him 
the  pitch." 

There  were  many  polite  rejections 
and  auditions  that  missed  the  mark. 
For  many  months,  he  and  his  band 
worked  around  the  clock,  rehearsing 
during  the  day  and  playing  jobs  at 
night.  Before  he  got  his  first  network 
show,  he  had  experienced  the  heart- 
breaks most  people  know  in  show  busi- 
ness. 

But  his  kite  was  flying  high  and 
handsome  when  he  met  his  wife  Ada- 
line.  She  was  teaching  English  at  a 
Long  Island  school  and  he  was  playing 
at  the  Biltmore  Hotel  in  Manhattan. 
Their  meeting  came  about  in  an  acci- 
dental, romantic,  and  a  pretty  convinc- 
ing case  of  love  at  first  sight.  From  the 
first  moment  Horace  felt  she  was  the 
woman  he  wanted  to  marry.  But  to  win 
her  required  the  same  perseverance  he 
put  into  his  band. 

Adaline,  although  a  fine  violinist,  was 
a  stranger  to  show  business.  Her  home 
was  in  upstate  New  York.  Her  father 
was  a  violinist  and  composer.  During 
two  years  of  courtship,  Horace  made 
fast  friends  with  her  father.  He  ar- 
ranged to  have  some  of  his  waltzes  pub- 
lished and  broadcast  over  the  air.  Many 
evenings  were  spent  in  the  living  room 
with  Adaline  while  her  father  gave 
them  violin  recitals.  After  the  wedding, 
Adaline  learned  the  extent  of  Horace's 
sacrifice  and  discomfort. 

"I'm  not  a  hard  man  to  get  along 
with,"  he  said.  "But  I  can't  stand  the 
fiddle.  You'll  have  to  give  it  up  com- 
pletely." 

They  were  married  in  December  and 
it  turned  out  to  be  a  lucky  month.  Their 
children,  when  they  came,  were  Decem- 
ber-born. 

Two-year-old  Slugger,  christened 
Horace  Jr.,  travels  with  them  and  gets 
his  kicks  out  of  the  Youth  Opportunity 
concerts.  He  currently  makes  unsched- 
uled appearances  with  the  band's  musi- 
cal toy  specialty. 

Jack  and  Jerry,  the  twins,  have  little 
inclination  to  be  performers.  They  are 
at  Culver  now,  trying  to  live  up  to  their 
father's  school  record. 

Their  only  girl,  Hildegarde  Harriet, 


has  started  school  in  Berkeley.  She 
was  named  after  a  nurse  and  the  Har- 
riet was  tagged  on  in  case  she  didn't 
turn  out  to  be  the  Hildegarde  type.  But 
she  did.  Her  heart  and  imagination 
have  been  tied  up  with  the  stage  since 
she  began  to  talk.  At  the  age  of  six, 
she  made  an  unexpected  debut. 

It  was  ten  minutes  before  curtain 
time  in  Indianapolis  when  Horace  heard 
the  audience  applauding  and  cheering. 
He  peeked  through  the  curtain  and 
there  was  Hildegarde  finishing  a  ballet 
and  taking  her  bows. 

Horace  grinned,  waiting  for  her  to 
come  off  the  stage.  Instead  Hildegarde 
walked  to  the  mike,  which  was  a  foot 
higher  than  her  head,  and  announced, 
"I  will  now  recite  a  poem." 

Horace  finally  got  her  off  the  stage. 

"You  know  you  shouldn't  be  out 
there,"  he  said  sternly. 

"But,  Daddy,"  Hildegarde  explained. 
"I  was  only  trying  to  warm  up  the 
audience  for  you." 

The  Heidts  have  taken  great  pains  to 
see  that  their  children  are  raised  prop- 
erly in  spite  of  the  demands  of  show 
business.  It  was  one  of  the  things  Hor- 
ace and  Adaline  discussed  before  mar- 
riage. One  other  thing  was  decided, 
this  by  Adaline. 

"My  philosophy  is  that  next  to  being 
in  love,  a  wife  must  respect  her  hus- 
band's work,"  she  will  tell  you.  "So  I 
decided  that  I  would  never  sit  by  the 
fireside  while  Horace  was  on  the  road." 

She's  lived  up  to  that.  Adaline  has 
never  missed  a  one-night  stand  whether 
it  meant  sleeping  in  a  bus  or  hotel  lob- 
by. She's  not  the  kind  of  wife  who 
plays  the  role  of  a  grandstand  observer. 
At  all  times,  she  has  been  right  down 
on  the  field  with  Horace,  helping  him 
carry  the  ball  and  buck  the  line.  And 
he  needed  her  help  in  1944,  when  he 
was  forced  into  retirement  from  the 
band  business. 

SOON  after  Pearl  Harbor,  Horace  be- 
gan to  tour  the  country  for  Bond 
rallies.  When  they  were  in  California, 
the  band  worked  in  a  war  plant  during 
the  day  and  entertained  at  night.  There 
was  no  let-up  for  several  years.  The 
24-hour  routine  was  exhausting.  Then 
his  voice  began  to  give  out.  His  throat 
got  worse  and  for  the  second  time 
in  Horace's  life,  a  doctor's  verdict 
changed  the  course  of  his  career. 

"You  have  a  hemorrhage  of  the  vocal 
chords,"  the  doctor  said. 

"What  does  that  mean?"  Adaline 
asked. 

"It  means  your  husband  will  have  to 
give  up  band  business  for  an  extended 
length  of  time." 

It  was  a  hard,  punishing  blow  that 
forced  him  to  reconsider  his  future.  He 
made  a  decision  he  couldn't  keep — to 
give  up  radio. 

"Do  you  think  I'll  be  good  at  any- 
thing else?"  he  asked  Adaline. 

"You'll  be  good  at  anything  you  put 
your  heart  in,"  she  reassured  him. 

So  Horace  went  into  real  estate.  He 
bought  a  hotel  in  Palm  Springs  and  a 
restaurant  and  the  Trianon  Ballroom  in 
Los  Angeles  and  another  place  in  Las 
Vegas.  By  any  business  standards  his 
ventures  were  very  successful,  but  it 
didn't  take  him  long  to  realize  he'd  left 
his  heart  with  the  footlights. 

"Is  it  the  dance  business  you  miss  to 
much?"  Adaline  would  ask. 

"No,"  he'd  say  truthfully.  "I  don't 
think  so." 


But  when  he  reminisced,  he  talked 
most  often  about  Gordon  MacRae  or 
Frankie  Carle  or  Alvino  Rey  and  the 
King  Sisters — stars  he  had  discovered 
and  given  a  helping  hand.  Perhaps  he 
thought  so  much  of  them  because  he 
received  a  lot  of  letters  from  soldiers 
he'd  met  during  bond  tours.  They  were 
young  boys  and  girls  asking  how  they 
could  get  a  start  in  show  business. 

"There  ought  to  be  some  way  of  help- 
ing these  kids  with  talent,"  he  often 
told  Adaline. 

It  wasn't  till  1947  that  he  had  the  an- 
swer. Then  he  had  the  basic  idea  for 
the  Youth  Opportunity  concerts.  In- 
stead of  establishing  a  typical  amateur 
show  in  a  big  city,  he  would  tour  the 
entire  country  in  a  talent  hunt.  His 
network  broadcasts  would  originate 
from  whatever  city  or  whistle  stop  they 
were  working. 

In  1948,  with  the  bulldog  tenacity 
that  has  marked  his  career,  Horace's 
troupe  gave  20,000  auditions  in  a  50,- 
000  mile  tour  through  48  states.  They 
soon  learned  to  deal  with  more  than 
the  routine  problems  that  face  a  travel- 
ing unit.  Adaline  has  found  herself  do- 
ing more  work  than  most  of  the  people 
in  the  troupe.  In  addition  to  handling 
publicity  and  raising  their  children,  she 
is  chaperone  and  teacher  to  the  teen- 
age youngsters  who  travel  with  them. 
Most  of  the  kids  come  fresh  from  their 
homes  into  the  show  and  it's  quite  na- 
tural that  the  parents  first  want  a  good 
look  at  the  Heidts.  Adaline  accepts  re- 
sponsibility for  their  health,  education 
and  general  welfare.  She  has  had  as 
many  as  sixteen  youngsters  to  care  for; 
one  boy  only  three  years  old,  Ernie 
Camerotta,  traveled  with  the  Heidts  for 
six  months. 

People  have  been  generous  in  their 
praise  of  the  Youth  Opportunity  pro- 
gram, have  gone  out  of  their  way  to 
honor  the  show. 

But  there  are  greater  compensations 
than  plaques  for  the  Heidts.  There  is 
the  thrill  of  taking  boys  and  girls  from 
the  obscurity  of  a  grocery  store  or 
stenographic  office  into  radio.  There  is 
the  satisfaction  of  seeing  them  become 
seasoned  performers.  There  is  a  sense 
of  achievement  in  hearing  huge  audi- 
ences applaud  these  youngsters. 

Today  Horace's  kite  is  flying  higher 
than  ever  and  he  has  achieved  the  most 
important  things  you  can  get  out  of 
life. 

"The  Youth  Opportunity  concerts 
have  given  me  more  satisfaction  and 
happiness  than  any  other  show,"  he 
will  tell  you. 

And  it's  funny  the  way  it  happened. 
He  got  the  idea  when  he'd  reached  a 
crisis  m  his  own  life.  He'd  solved  that 
by  turning  away  from  his  own  prob- 
lems to  think  of  others. 


There's    spine-tingling    excite- 
ment and  hair-raising  thrills  in 


TRUE 

DETECTIVE 

lUYSTERIES 


Tune  In 
This    Sunday 
Afternoon,   on    MBS 


Check  your  local   i)a|>pr  Inr  time. 


WoW  a  wife^  ^ke  modest/ 
can  wreck 


If  only  she'd  learn  here  scientific  truth  she  can  trust 
about  these  INTIMATE  PHYSICAL  FACTS! 


Often  a  young  wife  is  too  timid  or  Shy  to 
learn  these  intimate  physical  facts.  And 
because  of  this  her  husband  may  become 
sulky  and  resentful.  She  feels  her 
marriage  is  breaking  up — heading  for 
divorce.  Yet  she  finds  herself  helpless. 
It's  this  pitiful  young  woman  who 
definitely  needs  to  be  instructed  on 
how  important  vaginal  douching  often 
is  to  intimate  feminine  cleanliness, 
health,  charm  and  married  happiness — 
to  combat  one  of  woman's  most  offen- 
sive deodorant  problems.  And  what's 

EVEN  MORE  IMPORTANT — why  she 

should  always  use  zonite  in  her  douche. 
She  should  learn:   no  other  type 

LIQUID  ANTISEPTIC-GERMICIDE  OF  ALL 
THOSE  TESTED  FOR  THE  DOUCHE  IS  SO 
POWERFUL  YET  SO  SAFE  TO  TISSUES 
AS  ZONITE  ! 

Developed  By  World-Fomous 
Surgeon  and  Scientist 

What  better  assurance  could  you  want 


than  to  know  that  a  famous  Surgeon 
and  Scientist  developed  the  zonite 
principle — the  first  antiseptic-germicide 
principle  in  the  world  with  such  a 
powerful  germ-killing  and  deodorizing 
action  yet  absolutely  safe  to  delicate 
tissue  lining,  zonite  is  positively  non- 
poisonous,  non-irri  ating.  You  can  use 
zonite  as  directed  as  often  as  needed 
without  the  slightest  risk  of  injury. 

A  Modern  Miracle 

zonite  destroys  and  removes  odor- 
causing  waste  substances.  Helps  guard 
against  infection.  It's  so  powerfully 
effective — it  kills  every  germ  it  touches. 
You  know  it's  not  always  possible  to 
contact  all  the  germs  in  the  tract.  But 
you  can  feel  confident  that  zonite 
immediately  kills  every  reachable  germ 
and  keeps  them  from  multiplying. 
Scientific  douching  instructions  come 
with  every  bottle.  Any  drugstore. 


Zonge 


rcrn^ 


/vvenue.  New  


;s.  venue, 
HOORtSS- 


R 
M 

89 


What  do  you  do  when  your  cherab 
child  trails  cookie  crumbs  over  your 
newly  cleaned  rug?    Spank?   No  .  .  . 

Just  whistle  .  .  .  and  get  out  your 
Bissell  Carpet  Sweeper.  See  how  that 
new  "Bisco-matic"*  Brush  Action  gets 
the  dirt,  at  a  touch!  No  need  to  bear 
down . . . 


This  miracle  brush  adjusts  itself  auto- 
matically to  any  rug  nap,  thick  or  thin. 
Sweeps  clean  under  beds  and  chairs, 
with  the  handle  held  low ! 

Save  your  vacuum  for  occasional 
cleaning,  and  whisk  through  quick 
everyday  clean-ups  with  your  "Bisco- 
matic"  Bissell®! 


Exceptional  values.  "Bisco-matic"  Bissellswith 
"Sta-up"  Handle  and  easy  "Flip-O"  Empty  as 
low  as  $6.45.  Other  models  for  even  less.  Illus- 
trated: the  "Vanity"  at  $8.45. 


R 
M 

90 


Bissell 
Sweepers 

The  Bissell  Carpet  Sweeper  Co. 
Grand  Rapids  2,  Michigan 


*Refl:    O    S    Pat.  Off.  BJsneirB  pat- 
ented fall  Bprfne  controlled  brush 


Wendy  and  the  Widow 

•    (Continued  from  page  47) 


not  only  young  and  beautiful  but  a 
radio  actress  too. 

"Then  she  became  a  star.  And  then 
she  became  a  mother — twice — and  kept 
right  on  working  and  ran  her  home 
beautifully.  But  the  important  thing  is 
this — she  was  always  right  there  beside 
her  husband,  and  as  he  became  a  leader 
in  the  community  she  became  a  com- 
munity leader  too,  in  the  women's 
groups.  She  made  a  howling  success  of 
everything  she  handled.  So  it's  only 
natural  she  should  be  highly  respected. 
But,"  with  a  philosophical  grin,  "with 
all  that  on  the  ball,  to  be  well-liked  and 
loved  too — " 

And  that  is  the  crux  of  this  story: 
that  Florence  Freeman  is  as  much  a 
community  leader  in  her  own  setting 
as  Ellen  Brown  is  in  hers  and  Wendy 
Warren  in  hers. 

All  three  women  are  strong  charac- 
ters to  whom  people  turn  for  strength 
in  time  of  stress.  All  three  have  cour- 
age, sympathy  and  love  for  others.  All 
three  are  deeply  religious. 

Florence  says  these  similarities  help 
her  interpretation  of  the  roles. 

"ftH,  I  could  play  a  bad  woman  and 

U  give  a  creditable  performance,"  she 
laughs,  "but  to  my  husband's  ear,  for 
instance,  the  lack  of  authenticity  would 
be  recognizable." 

Of  the  Florence-Ellen-Wendy  trio 
Florence  is  the  luckiest — she  hasn't  the 
enemies  the  other  two  must  make  to 
keep  the  programs  going.  But  she  has 
always  become  just  as  "involved" — not 
in  radio  intrigue  but  in  large-scale 
projects  that  end  up  as  hard  work. 

The  war  years,  of  course,  were  hard- 
est. Along  with  "Widder  Brown"  five 
times  a  week  and  other  radio  jobs,  there 
were  many  benefit  appearances.  There 
was  the  Red  Cross. 

Nor  did  the  war  diminish  the  visits — 
in  joy  or  in  sorrow — that  a  clergyman's 
wife  makes  with  her  husband. 

But  this  is  no  family  in  which  service 
is  limited  to  war  years.  Neighborhood 
captaincies  in  Community  Chest  drives, 
benefit  readings  in  churches  and  syna- 
gogues, directing  plays  for  "young  mar- 
rieds"  and  sometimes  playing  the  lead 
because  a  "pro"  means  more  ticket  sales 
for  some  good  cause — all  this  goes  into 
community  service. 

Two  shows  a  day,  fifteen  minutes 
each,  sounds  like  an  easy  schedule — if 
you  say  it  fast.   But  listen  to  this. 

"Up  at  eight,  breakfast  with  the 
family,  out  of  the  house  by  nine-thirty, 
to  New  York  by  Hudson  Tubes  and 
subway,"  Florence  ticks  off.  "At  CBS, 
Madison  and  52nd,  by  ten-thirty  to  re- 
hearse steadily  till  twelve.  Show  from 
twelve  to  twelve-fifteen. 

"My  time  is  now  my  own  for  several 
hours  unless  I  lunch  with  writers, 
directors  or  publicity  people  or  must 
shop  for  the  house  or  the  children  or 
for  gifts  for  people.  I  receive  a  great 
many  gifts  fromi  fans,  but  I  give  gifts 
too,  to  my  friends  and  their  children — 
and  so  I  shop." 

Once  in  a  while,  for  relaxation,  she 
gets  a  massage  before  going  to  NBC  at 
Radio  City  for  the  Widder  Brown  re- 
hearsal— three-forty-five  to  four-forty- 
five.   Then  the  show  until  five. 

"I  used  to  go  with  my  husband  on  all 
his  calls  of  condolence  or  congratula- 
tions, but  now  I  can't  go  on  daytime 
calls,"  she  says  regretfully.  "So  I  write 
notes.  And  of  course  I  don't  want  to 
stay  away  from  a  funeral  or  a  wedding 


if  I  can  help  it.  These  are  my  friends. 
And  we  certainly  don't  intend  to  short- 
change the  children,"  she  continued. 
"So  it's  our  social  life  that  has  to  be 
sandwiched  in.  That's  better  than  sand- 
wiching the  kids." 

So  Mommy,  who  has  her  Master's 
Degree  in  English,  often  helps  with 
homework  after  dinner  before  every- 
body makes  a  dash  for  the  television 
set.  And  weekends  are  reserved  strictly 
for  family  and  fun.  Florence  will  take 
no  weekend  radio  call,  however  tempt- 
ing. 

Furthermore,  one  of  the  two  leisure 
days  is  goaled  to  something  glamorous 
the  family  can  do  as  a  foursome — a 
museum,  the  ballet,  a  Broadway  show. 
Both  girls  are  good  horseback  riders 
and  Mommy  drives  them  to  the  distant 
stables  many  fair  Sundays.  On  the 
other  hand,  both  parents  are  ardent 
golfers  and  the  little  girls  have  been, 
known  to  be  extremely  generous  about 
"letting"  them  play  on  a  Sunday. 

"They  even  go  into  a  huddle  with 
their  Daddy  sometimes  when  they  think 
I  look  peaked,"  Florence  relates,  "and 
come  up  with  a  prescription:  Mommy 
should  go  play  golf." 

It  was  the  horseback  riding  that 
brought  Princess,  the  family  Dalmatian, 
into  the  script. 

When  the  kids  "oohed"  and  "aaahed" 
over  some  new-born  Dalmatians  at  the 
riding  stables  and  wanted  one,  Daddy 
suggested,  "Why  not  find  a  good  pedi- 
greed Dalmatian  instead?  Some  day 
you  might  want  to  show  your  pet." 

So  all  four  set  out  hunting  and  found 
the  sprightly,  endearing  imp  with  one 
of  her  black  polka-dots  set  askew  on 
her  mouth  for  all  the  world  like  a  per- 
manent grin. 

The  girls  are  taking  their  new  re- 
sponsibility seriously,  all  the  way  to 
Pablum  and  cod-liver  oil,  and  reading 
the  newest  addition  to  the  family  li- 
brary: "How  to  Raise  a  Dog  in  the  City 
and  Suburbs,"  by  Dr.  James  Kinney 
of  the  Ellin  Prince  Speyer  Hospital  of 
New  York. 

AS  A  matter  of  fact,  Judy  is  one  who 
takes  a  good  many  things  seriously. 

And  Florence  says,  "She's  an  awfully 
good  sport.  She  tries  to  encourage 
others."  Her  mother  recalls  a  tale  from 
Judy's  nursery  school  days  when,  at 
three  and  a  half,  she  singlehandedly 
transformed  a  little  boy  from  a  poor 
eater  into  a  good  one.  It  was  simple. 
All  she  did  was  exclaim  to  the  teacher, 
"Oh  look,  Mrs.  Little,  look  at  David! 
He's  eaten  all  his  potatoes — almost." 
From  then  on  David  always  ran  to  Judy 
with  his  cleaned-up  plate  because  her 
praise  had  meant  so  much. 

Both  girls  swim,  dance  beautifully, 
play  the  piano  and  ice  skate — and  do 
everything  together.  Including  squab- 
bling— which  they  get  over  quickly, 
being  devoted  sisters.  They  attend  the 
same  private  school,  Bergen  School  for 
Girls,  not  far  from  their  home. 

"Deana  is  impulsive,  noisy  and  so 
funny,"  continues  this  analytical 
mother.  "She's  a  complete  extrovert 
and  can  entertain  herself  endlessly. 
Doesn't  need  other  people,  yet  enjoys 
them  when  she  has  them.  They  enjoy 
her,  too. 

"And  she's  so  quick  on  the  uptake — 
why,  I've  seen  her  poke  her  nose  into 
Judy's  studies,  waste  Judy's  good  time, 
pick  up  enough  information  to  get  by 
on    and   then    surprise    everyone    with 


her  astounding  collection  of  unrelated 
information." 

With  no  one  in  the  family  exactly 
slow-witted,  table  talk  moves  along  in 
a  sprightly  manner,  with  Deana  and 
her  father  providing  a  good  share  of  the 
laughter.  They're  the  teasers.  Meals 
aren't  the  serene,  low-voiced  interludes 
one  might  expect  in  this  well-ordered 
household,  for  earlier-dining  neigh- 
bors think  nothing  of  walking  in  and 
joining  the  conversation  during  coffee. 
There's  a  great  deal  of  treking  back 
and  forth  on  the  block  anyway,  and 
this  house  is  one  of  the  most  popular. 

"Our  house  and  furniture  take  a 
beating,"  Florence  explains.  "I  don't 
mean  the  children — they've  always  had 
a  playroom  and  have  had  too  many 
interests  to  consider  furniture-jumping 
a  pastime.  But  we  have  an  open  house 
for  friends,  parishioners,  everybody. 
We  use  our  house  hard.  We  want  it 
that  way.  You  can  always  replace  fur- 
niture, but  not  people." 

Florence  loves  curries  and  elaborate 
desserts  but  her  clothing  tastes  go  in 
reverse,  her  favorites  being  plain  suits 
or  severely  smart  frocks  relieved  by 
costume  jewelry.  She  is  not  happiest 
in  evening  clothes,  which  comes  as  a 
surorise  from  a  slim,  trim  woman. 

"I.  can't  help  it,"  she  pleads.  "I  just 
don't  like  decollete  gowns." 

WHAT  hats  she  has  are  fine  "going 
out"  affairs,  but  chiefly  she  wears 
head  kerchiefs,  even  to  New  York,  or 
lea^^'es  her  well-coiffed  hair  uncovered. 

She  is  extravagant  about  some  things, 
amusingly  economical  about  others.  At 
rehearsals  these  days  she  is  knitting 
covers  for  dress  hangers,  complaining 
that  new  hangers  are  "much  too  ex- 
pensive." 

Some  of  her  loveliest  possessions  are 
handmade  gifts  from  fans.  "A  Mrs. 
Ethel  Henderson  sent  me  exquisite 
sterling  spoons  when  she  and  her  hus- 
band retired  to  a  private  home  for 
elderly  people.  She  wrote  that  on 
breaking  up  her  home  she  wanted  me 
to  have  some  of  her  most  precious 
belongings.    I   treasure   those   spoons." 

From  California  come  boxes  of  native 
fruits  from  another  fan's  ranch.  From 
New  Hampshire,  frequent  letters  from 
an  admirer  who  began  corresponding 
in  her  maiden  days,  sent  a  card  every 
day  of  her  honeymoon  and  now  writes 
whenever  something  momentous  trans- 
pires in  her  married  life. 

And  from  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  come  let- 
ters from  a  young  blind  girl,  member 
of  a  society  of  blind  teen-agers  who 
often  get  together  to  listen  to  their 
favorite  radio  actress. 

How  does  one  get  to  be  the  favorite 
daytime  actress  of  millions  of  Amer- 
icans? Florence  will  tell  you  that  on 
the  one  hand  it  has  meant  hard,  hard 
work.  Yet  on  the  other  it  all  seemed 
to  start  with  dreamlike  ease. 

"I  always  wanted  to  act,"  she  told  me. 
"All  the  while  I  was  earning  my  B.A. 
at  Wells  College,  N.  Y.  State  College 
for  Teachers,  and  taking  my  M.A.  in 
English  at  Columbia — on  such  a  learned 
topic  as  'Discovering  the  German  In- 
fluence in  Galsworthy' — I  wanted  to 
act.  I  took  dramatic  and  stage  produc- 
tion courses  and  acted  in  college  plays." 

But  after  graduation  she  landed  not 
on  the  stage  but  in  a  Pearl  River,  N.  Y., 
school  teaching  English.  Not  for  long, 
though.  Came  a  young  clergyman  and 
marriage  in  1933. 

When  the  couple  moved  to  Brooklyn, 
and  New  York  with  its  producers  and 
theatrical  agencies  was  so  temptingly 
near,  she  succumbed,  learning  h'^r  way 


For  complete  Feminine 
Hygiene  rely  on  . . . 


A  Concentrated 
Germ-Killer 


ONE  NEGLECT  THAT 
CAN  BE  STRONGER 
THAN  LOVE... 

Chains  of  intimate  physical    . 
neglect  can  bind  wives  away 
from  /lusbancf's  love  . . . 

Too  often  .  .  .  too  frightfully  often  .  .  . 
the  romance  and  tenderness  of  mar- 
ried love  is  shattered  on  one  sad  neglect. 

This  neglect  makes  a  wife  unsure  of  her 
feminine  daintiness  .  .  .  slowly  but  surely 
succeeds  in  causing  trouble  between  her 
husband  and  herself. 

Far  too  many  wives  are  guilty  of  this 
neglect  .  .  .  fail  to  practice  the  complete, 
effective  feminine  hygiene  that  assures 
dainty  allure.  Yet  all  they  need  do  is  take 
regular  vaginal  douches  with  a  scientifically 
correct  preparation  such  as  "Lysol."  So 
easy  a  way  for  a  wife  to  banish  this  un- 
sureness  .  .  .  which  may  stand  in  the  way 
of  normal,  happy  love ! 

Germs  desiroyed  swiftly 

"Lysol"  has  amazing,  jsrorec?  power  to  kill 
germ-life  on  contact . .  .  truly  cleanses  the 
vaginal  canal  even  in  the  presence  of 
mucous  matter.  Thus  "Lysol"  acts  in  a 
way  that  makeshifts  like  soap,  salt  or  soda 
never  can. 

Appealing  daintiness  is  assured,  because 
the  very  source  of  objectionable  odors  is 
eliminated. 

Use  whenever  needed! 

Yet  gentle,  non-caustic  "Lysol"  will  not 
harm  delicate  tissue.  Simple  directions 
give  correct  douching  solution.  Many  doc- 
tors advise  their  patients  to  douche  regu- 
larly with  "Lysol"  brand  disinfectant,  just 
to  insure  daintiness  alone,  and  to  use  it  as 
often  as  they  need  it.  No  greasy  aftereffect. 

Three  times  as  many  women  use  "Lysol" 
for  intimate  feminine  hygiene  as  any 
other  liquid  preparation!  No  other  is  more 
reliable.  You,  too,  can  rely  on  "Lysol"  to 
help  protect  your  married  happiness  .  .  , 
keep  you  desirable ! 


NEW! 


.FEMININE  HYGIENE  FACTS! 


FREE!  New  booklet  of  information  by  repu- 
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Name . 


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R 

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wvaieh  for  it! 

^^medals  for 
HOLLYWOOD  STARS 


Ralph  Staub's  on-the-scene  newsreel  of  the  famous  Photo- 
play Gold   Medal  Award   Dinner   featuring  the   winners: 


INGRiD   BERGMAN 


Esther  Williams 


BiNG   CROSBY 


Jennifer  Jones 
Alan  E,add 


June  Allffson 
Rita  Hayworth  Gregory  Peeh 

Bob  Hope  Humphrey  Bogart 

and  other  screen  celebrities 


A  Colainbia|Pictare  Short 
Coming  This  Month  To  Yonr  Local  Theatre 

doMi^t  miss  it  I 


R 
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92 


around  the  metropolis — and  getting  no- 
where with  the  stage  urge. 

Her  new  sister-in-law  asked,  "Why 
not  try  radio?" 

"Oh  I'm  not  interested  in  radio,"  was 
the  quick  response. 

"Huh,"  said  the  in-law,  "bet  you 
couldn't  get  an  audition  if  you  tried." 
She  was  joking  but  Florence  took  it 
seriously. 

She  went  to  New  York,  to  WMCA. 
The  reception  girl  said,  "No  auditions." 
They  chatted  anyway,  a  chat  that  ended 
with  the  receptionist  getting  her  in  to 
see  the  head  of  dramatic  programs.  He 
gave  Florence  a  script  to  read,  asked 
her  to  wait,  disappeared  for  twenty 
minutes  and  returned  with  a  job  start- 
ing that  day  at  $50  a  week.  Leading 
lady  of  the  sustaining  dramatic  com- 
pany, no  less. 

"So  up  to  that  point  it  really  wasn't 
so  hard,"  she  relates  with  admirable 
understatement. 

AFTER  six  months  at  WMCA  the  new 
actress  reached  for  the  networks  and 
found  the  same  method  doesn't  always 
work  twice.  Her  husband  said,  "Buy  a 
copy  of  Variety." 

"What's  Variety?"  asked  the  actress. 

"Variety,"  patiently  explained  the 
clergyman,  "is  a  publication  devoted  to 
the  entertainment  world  in  all  its  as- 
pects— theater,  films,  radio,  and  so  on." 

They  bought  a  copy  of  Variety,  found 
the  names  of  some  advertising  agencies 
— one  on  the  west  side  and  many  on  the 
east  side. 

"I  will  go  to  the  west  side  one  first," 
said  the  practical  job  seeker,  "and  then 
take  a  cross-town  trolley  for  all  the 
east  side  ones." 

She  never  caught  the  trolley,  for  the 
west  side  agency  placed  her  with  NBC 
on  Madame  Sylvia  of  Hollywood.  That 
was  fourteen  years  ago  and  she's  been 
working  ever  since. 

At  rehearsals  the  star  is  indistin- 
guishable from  the  bit  actor. 

In  the  few  minutes'  break  sitting 
around  the  studio  table,  she  chats 
softly  with  the  others  in  the  cast, 
voices  down  while  the  director  irons 
out  problems  with  the  sound  man  or 
control  technician.  She  is  friendly  to 
everyone  and  her  directors  will  tell  you 
she  never,  never  gives  a  display  of 
temperament. 

"She's  got  temperament,  all  right," 
one  of  them  told  me.  "After  all,  she's 
an  actress — a  good  one.  But  she  keeps 
a  lid  on  it.   And  she  never  blows  up." 

A  favorite  story  around  one  studio 
illustrates  Florence's  quick  thinking 
and  control. 

Two  well-known  actresses  were  in 
the  cast  that  day.  The  show  was  on  the 
air.  Miss  A,  reading  a  resounding  dra- 
matic speech,  flipped  over  the  page  of 
her  script  to  go  on,  saw  the  page  was 
missing  and  turned  white. 

But  she  quickly  pulled  herself  to- 
gether, walked  around  the  microphone 
to  Miss  B's  side  and  began  reading  her 
part  from  that  script. 

Miss  B,  who  didn't  catch  on  to  the 
situation,  looked  worried  and  nervous 
and  walked  around  the  mike  to  the 
other  side.  Miss  A  began  to  follow  and 
Miss  B  to  edge  away  again. 

It  was  Florence  who  stopped  the 
game  of  tag.  She'd  sized  up  the  situa- 
tion in  a  flash.  Firmly  seizing  Miss  B 
by  the  arm  she  held  her  quiet  while 
Miss  A  read  all  the  lines  she  needed  for 
that  page. 

Florence  admits  the  story  is  true. 
But — and  this  is  typical  of  her  partic- 
ular kind  of  niceness — she  won't  tell 
you  who  Miss  A  or  Miss  B  is. 


The  Skelton  Saga 

(Continued  from  page  59) 

40-Beautiful  Girls-40,  competed  for  the 
job  of  mothering  him  as  women — ex- 
cept his  own  mother,  perhaps — always 
have  mothered  him. 

A  year  later  he  met  the  girl  who  was 
to  take  on  the  job  for  keeps,  Edna  Stil- 
well,  who  for  ten  years  was  his  wife, 
and  still  is  his  manager,  writer-produc- 
er of  his  radio  shows,  and  general 
Solver-of- All-Problems. 

The  gossips  buzzed  in  Hollywood  aft- 
er Edna  and  Red  were  divorced  in  1942, 
and — although  both  remarried  very 
soon — Edna  stayed  on  as  chief  of  the 
inner  circle  of  Red's  professional  life. 

The  gossips  didn't  bother  Red.  His 
ears  just  don't  hear  anything  unpleas- 
ant. Edna  heard  it  all  right,  but  she 
shrugged  it  off. 

LET  them  criticize,"  she  said.  "I'm  not 
going  to  leave  Red.  He's  all  the 
family  I  have." 

Edna  Stilwell's  childhood  had  been 
just  as  rugged  as  Red's.  Her  parents 
had  separated  when  she  was  six  months 
old,  and  her  mother — like  Red's — had  to 
work  hard,  long  hours  for  a  bare  living. 

When  she  met  Red  she  was  fifteen. 
He  was  seventeen,  and  they  were  mar- 
ried six  months  later  without  asking 
any  adult's  permission. 

"When  you've  been  working  since 
you  were  ten,  you're  old  enough  at  fif- 
teen to  know  your  own  mind,"  Edna 
says. 

Edna  was  a  contestant  in  a  walka- 
thon — her  first,  last,  and  -only  walka- 
thon.  Red  came  on  from  burlesque  to 
join  the  show  as  master  of  ceremonies. 
Edna  won  the  endurance  contest,  after 
walking  for  four  and  a  half  months. 
Red  says  his  job  was  comparatively 
easy.  All  he  had  to  do  was  be  funny 
for  seven  hours  a  day,  seven  days  a 
week. 

They  didn't  think  it  was  too  tough. 

"Hell,"  Red  says,  "that  was  1931,  re- 
member. We  were  working.  A  lot  of 
folks  weren't." 

But  it  takes  a  lot  of  material  to  keep 
people  laughing  for  four  and  a  half 
months,  and  the  contestants — to  say 
nothing  of  the  throngs  of  people  who 
kept  the  10,000  seat  auditorium  filled 
day  and  night  all  that  while — were 
pretty  impressed  with  this  unknown 
red-headed  sprout  who  could  do  it. 

Except  for  Edna,  they  admired  him 
without  qualification. 

She  opened  up  kindly.  "You  ought 
to  have  a  raise,"  she  told  him.  "The 
comic  is  the  mainstay  in  this  business. 
You  hold  the  show  together.  Also,  you 
need  better  material." 

Red  was  pleased,  both  with  the  praise 
and  with  the  prospect  of  getting  his 
hands  on  more  money.  He  never  had 
any  sense  about  money. 

"Why  don't  you  fix  it?"  he  said. 

"I  will,"  she  said.  And,  little  by  little, 
she  did.  Little  by  little,  Red  changed 
from  a  brash  burlesque  clown  with  a 
hat  full  of  bang-bang  jokes  to  the 
subtler  and  funnier  character  comedian 
he  is  today. 

Edna's  job  just  grew.  She  didn't  plan 
it  or  even  look  for  it. 

"He  couldn't  afford  to  hire  anybody," 
she  says.  "So  whatever  he  couldn't  or 
wouldn't  do  for  himself,  I  did!" 

Her  wife's  job  was  half  mother-job 
from  the  first.  She  loaned  him  the  $2 
to  pay  for  their  marriage  license. 

She  covered  the  agents'  offices  trying 
to   sell  Red  to  vaudeville,   cooked   his 


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favorite  fried  bread  and  stews  for  him 
on  a  two-plate  grill  they  kept  hidden 
in  the  bottom  bureau  drawer  in  their 
cheap  hotel  room. 

Although  he  was  a  big  hit  on  the 
walkathon  circuit,  Red  wasn't  satisfied. 
Vaudeville  was  the  big  thing  in  the 
early  Thirties  and  Red  from  the  begin- 
ning wanted  to  be  the  biggest  in  the 
biggest. 

When  an  offer  came  along  to  do  a 
show  in  Harwichport,  Massachusetts, 
Edna  said  he  had  to  take  it.  It  was  at 
least  closer  to  New  York,  hub  of  the 
vaudeville  world. 

They  spent  the  last  of  their  money 
for  an  old  broken  down  Packard,  bor- 
rowed Edna's  mother's  last  five  dollars 
and  hit  the  road. 

Harwichport  was  2,000  miles  away. 

They  got  as  far  as  St.  Louis  before 
the  five  dollars  dwindled  to  fifty  cents. 

"rUESS  we  have  to  grub  for  tinfoil," 
U  Red  said  cheerfully. 

"Come  again,"  said  Edna. 

"Pick  up  empty  cigarette  packs,"  Red 
ordered,  "and  save  the  tinfoil." 

They  worked  for  a  couple  of  hours 
and  grubbed  up  quite  a  lot. 

Then  Red  spent  the  fifty  cents  for  a 
few  bars  of  ivory  soap,  which,  in  the 
back  seat  of  the  Packard  they  sliced 
with  a  razor  blade  into  one  inch  cubes. 
Each  cube  they  wrapped  in  smoothed- 
out  tinfoil. 

"Voila,"  said  the  old  Medicine  Man, 
"fog  remover  for  your  eyeglasses." 

With  a  pocket  full  of  silver  cubes,  and 
a  spiel  remembered  from  the  "Miracle 
Remedy"  days.  Red  took  to  the  street 
corners,  and  sold  the  fog  remover  tab- 
lets for  fifty  cents  apiece.  Edna  col- 
lected the  money  and  kept  an  eye  out 
for  the  cops. 

They  slept  in  a  hotel  that  night,  and 
every  night  on  their  way  to  Harwich- 
port,  which  they  made  in  good  time  to 
keep  their  engagement. 

Red  doesn't  see  anything  unusual 
about  the  story. 

"I  never  had  anything,"  he  says.  "I 
never  got  anything  the  easy  way.  And 
everything  I  ever  did  get  was  gravy. 
I  didn't  mind  working  for  it.  I  thought 
everybody  had  to." 

Still  nobody  but  Edna — and  the 
legion  of  walkathon  fans — thought  that 
Red  had  the  stuff  for  the  big  time. 

As  master  of  ceremonies  for  the  en- 
durance contests,  Red  had  broken  all 
records.  His  show  played  for  a  solid 
year  in  three  spots  in  Camden,  New 
Jersey,  in  1933,  just  because  people 
were  willing  to  come  back  again  and 
again — at  10  below  zero,  at  10  o'clock 
at  night — to  laugh  at  Red. 

But  vaudeville  wanted  no  part  of 
him.  Edna  set  auditions  for  him, 'but 
the  big,  cold,  empty  theaters  with  no 
people  in  them  depressed  him,  and  he 
couldn't  as  he  puts  it,  "get  off  the 
ground." 

Their  good  friends  Jim  and  Marian 
Harkins,  former  big  timers  in  variety, 
were  "thrown  out  of  every  agency  in 
New  York  trying  to  sell  Red."  Red  and 
Edna,  in  the  meantime,  were  being 
thrown  out  of  their  room  at  the  Old 
Flanders  Hotel  on  46th  Street  in  default 
of  nine  dollars  rent. 

They  doubled  up  with  Marian  and 
Jim  that  night. 

Red  always  had  friends  like  that, 
battering  away  at  the  closed  gates  for 
him. 

Another  was  Eve  Ross,  who  was  in 
charge  of  the  Gae  Foster  chorus  lines 
at  the  Roxy  theatre  in  New  York. 

Eve  "knew  an  agent,"  but  Eve's 
agent,  like  so  many  others,  couldn't 
see  Red. 


But  Eve  would  not  be  put  off. 

"Let  me  take  him  up  to  the  Lido  Club 
in  Montreal,"  she  begged.  "I  know  he's 
got  it." 

Eve  won,  and  went  with  Red  and 
Edna  to  Montreal.  Opening  night  Red 
fell  flat  on  his  face.  The  manager 
wanted  to  toss  him  out.  But  Eve  had 
heard  him  when  he  was  good. 

"The  kid's  just  scared,"  she  said.  "Let 
him  stay  the  week  out  and  if  he  isn't  a 
hit,  I'll  pay  his  whole  week's  salary." 

Red  was  a  hit.  He  always  is  on  the 
second  bounce.  And  he  stayed  at  the 
Lido  for  months. 

That  was  the  beginning. 

Considering  the  fact  that  it  was  a 
nightclub,  his  success  was  startling. 
Red  doesn't  like  clubs,  and  as  a  rule 
they  don't  like  him.  He's  not  a  wise 
guy,  he  doesn't  know  how  to  insult  the 
customers — who  expect  it.  His  work  is 
largely  pantomime.  But  at  the  Lido, 
with  his  second  wind,  he  mopped  up. 

Harry  Angers,  booking  agent  for 
Loew's  Montreal,  caught  the  act  one 
night,  and  joined  the  Skelton  fan  club. 

He  spoke  to  Edna,  backstage. 

"I'd  like  to  book  the  kid  into  Loew's," 
he  said,  tentatively,  "if  he  has  any  free 
time." 

Free  time!  Red  didn't  have  anything 
else.    But  Edna  didn't  let  on. 

"We  have  a  booking  in  Atlantic  City 
after  the  Lido  run.  After  that,  we  could 
work  you  in." 

They  went  off  to  Atlantic  City  ex- 
pecting never  to  hear  from  the  little 
man  again.  But  a  few  days  later  a  con- 
tract arrived  with  railroad  tickets  back 
to  Montreal. 

Loew's  in  Montreal,  Shea's  in  Toron- 
to— Harry  Angers  booked  Red  into 
the  entire  Canadian  circuit.  He  played 
for  a  solid  year.  All  of  Canada  loved 
him,  and  everybody  in  the  United 
States — hearing  about  his  record-break- 
ing runs — began  to  wonder  about  this 
"unknown  Canadian  comic,"  who  was 
killing  the  people  up  there. 

So  Red  finally  crashed  American 
vaudeville — as   a   Canadian! 

First  American  stop  was  the  Capitol 
Theater  in  Washington,  for  Carter  Bar- 
ron and  John  Ford.  Later,  Red  trans- 
ferred around  the  corner  to  the  Earle 
Theater,  then  being  booked  by  Red's 
old  friend  Harry  Angers. 

RED,  overwhelmed  with  gratitude,  de- 
cided to  buy  Harry  a  car,  and  he 
and  Edna  went  shopping  for  it. 

They  wrapped  it  all  in  cellophane, 
draped  it  with  red  ribbons  and  had  it 
delivered  to  Harry's  office  door,  only 
to  discover  that  Harry  couldn't  drive. 

He  couldn't,  but  he  did,  and  in  quick 
succession  knocked  down  his  own  ga- 
rage door,  hit  a  tree  and  piled  up  six 
cars  in  traffic. 

"I  don't  know  whether  to  thank 
you,"  Harry's  wife  told  '  dna  on  the 
phone,   "or  sue  you." 

A  hit  in  Washington,  Red  proceeded 
in  style  to  Chicago  where — ^true  to  his 
own  erratic  traditions — he  "laid  the 
biggest   egg  in  vaudeville  history." 

Two  weeks  after  this  debacle  Red 
was  booked  into  the  Chicago  Palace. 
There,  also  true  to  tradition,  he  was  a 
sensation. 

Up,  down!  High.  Low!  And  never 
certain  that  the  next  performance 
wouldn't  be  a  frost. 

And  then  vaudeville  itself  began  to 
get  shaky.  A  thing  called  radio  was 
sticking  its  nose  into  show  business. 

As  though  Red  didn't  have  enough 
trouble. 

He  made  a  few  auditions,  with  the 
usual  frightening  results. 

Radio    could    go    hang.     Red    would 


y 


stick  to  vaudeville  until  its  last  breath. 
He  could  always  go  back  to  Montreal. 

He  didn't  know  that  he  had  yet 
another  friend  to  front  for  him. 

At  about  this  time — it  was  early  1937 
— Freeman  Keyes,  an  advertising  man 
in  Chicago  who  had  made  an  early  rep- 
utation in  radio  with  hillbilly  shows, 
was  looking  for  a  comedy  variety  show 
for  one  of  his  clients.  Something  fresh, 
different. 

He  took  his  headache  home  to  dinner 
with  him  one  night  and  his  wife — along 
with  two  aspirins — gave  him  some  ad- 
vice. 

"I  saw  a  red-headed  fellow  in  Chi- 
cago once,"  she  said,  "who  was  the  fun- 
niest person  I  ever  saw.  He  did  an  act 
dunking  doughnuts." 

Too  tired  to  explain  that  doughnut 
dunking  was  a  pretty  visual  operation 
for  radio,  Mr.  Keyes  contented  himself 
with  "What  was  his  name?" 

Mrs.  Keyes  didn't  remember. 

IIR.  KEYES  went  on  auditioning  aspir- 
iil  ing  comics,  and  his  headache  grew. 
And  at  home  the  barrage  of  propaganda 
proceeded  for  the  funny  man  with  red 
hair  who  dunked  doughnuts. 

Finally,  as  he  puts  it  "to  get  my  wife 
out  of  my  hair,"  Freeman  Keyes  called 
every  talent  agency  in  Chicago  to  ask 
if  by  any  chance  any  of  their  clients 
had  red  hair  and  dunked  doughnuts. 

Red  Skelton,  playing  a  vaudeville 
date  in  Indianapolis,  got  wind  of  stuff 
going  on  when  his  agents  in  Chicago 
called  on  Monday  to  say  they  were  fly- 
ing in,  and  his  agents  in  New  York 
popped  in  unexpectedly  the  same  day. 

This  was  the  big  break,  the  agents 
explained. 

AH  Red  had  to  do  was  run  over  to 
Cincinnati  and  audition  for  the  fellows 
who  sold  the  soap. 

Red,  who  can  be  a  contrary  little  boy, 
stomped  his  foot  and  said  "Uh-Uh." 

"No  more  auditions.  I've  done  audi- 
tions until  I'm  blue  in  the  face.  They're 
never  any  good." 

And  he  went  back  out  on  stage  and 
dunked  doughnuts. 

Edna  agreed.  "If  they  want  to  see 
him  work  they  can  pay  him  for  a  guest 
shot." 

The  poor  agents,  drooling  at  the 
thought  of  all  that  money  just  lying 
there,  had  to  go  back  to  Chicago  and 
tell  Freeman  Keyes  that  their  man 
Skelton  didn't  do  auditions. 

Keyes  raged. 

"Don't  you  think  the  guy's  a  little 
uppity,"  he  said,  "considering  he  needs 
the  work?" 

He  told  his  wife  who  gave  him  two 
more  aspirins. 

And  more  advice. 

"I  think  the  boy  is  right,"  she  said. 
"Why  shoiAldn't  he  be  paid  if  he  works? 
And,  besides,  he's  much  funnier  than 
the  others." 

So  Red  played  a  guest  shot  on  the 
Barn  Dance,  and  two  weeks  later  was 
signed  for  his  own  show. 

He  worked  for  a  year  for  Keyes — and 
Avalon  cigarettes — and  then  quit  in  a 
huff  because  the  raise  stipulated  in  his 
contract  was  not  forthcoming. 

"I  don't  care  what  you  do  to  me  if 
you  tell  me,"  Red  said,  "but  it  hurts 
if  you  don't  keep  your  word." 

A  year  later.  Red  and  Keyes — by  then 
abbreviated  to  "Boss" — kissed  and 
made  up,  and  have  been  a  radio  team 
since,  for  a  series  of  sponsors. 

Whoever  hires  Red  for  radio  must 
hire  Keyes'  agency — Red  is  loyal  to  his 
friends — and  nobody  but  Keyes  can 
give  Red  orders  from  the  sponsor. 
That's  in  the  contract.    And  Keyes  has 


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R 

IVI 

96 


Addrets_ 


kept  his  word.  There  even  is  a  clause 
in  the  contract  which  says  Red  can  quit 
if  he  isn't  happy. 

"I  wouldn't  try  to  work  with  Red  if 
he  were  in  a  pout,"  Keyes  explains. 
"There  are  easier  ways  of  earning  a 
dollar." 

But  there  hasn't  been  a  pout — about 
radio,  at  least — in  ten  years. 

In  Red's  film  career,  the  weather  has 
been  more  changeable. 

He  did  his  first  movie  in  1937,  playing 
the  camp  social  director  in  "Having 
Wonderful  Time,"  and  as  he  himself 
says  "was  so  bad  it  took  me  five  years 
to  get  back  in." 

In  1941,  he  signed  the  now  legendary 
seven  year  contract  with  MGM  where 
his  embroglios  with  the  big  shots  have 
made  trade  paper  headlines  every  other 
week  since  he  arrived  on  the  lot. 

METRO-GOLDWYN-MAYER,  more 
than  any  other  studio  in  Hollywood, 
is  boss-heavy.  And  at  Metro,  Red  has 
had  himself  a  circus  throwing  his 
weight  around. 

Edna  recalls  the  day  that  she  an- 
swered the  phone  to  hear  a  secretary's 
voice  proclaim,  "Mr.  Mayer  would  like 
to  speak  to  Mr.  Skelton." 

"Mr.  Skelton  doesn't  talk  on  the  tele- 
phone," she  said,  "but  he's  right  here. 
I  can  relay  a  message.  Or  if  Mr.  Mayer 
wants  to  see  Red,  he'll  drive  out  to  the 
studio,"  she  added. 

Face  to  face  across  the  desk,  the  Boss 
and  the  Bad  Boy  glowered  at  one 
another. 

"Don't  you  think  it's  a  little  early  for 
you  to  be  'going  Hollywood'?"  the  Boss 
asked. 

"I'm  not  going  Hollywood,"  Red 
snapped  back.  "But  I  don't  talk  on  the 
telephone.     That's  what  Edna  is  for." 

"What  did  you  do,"  Mr  Mayer  re- 
marked acidly,  "before  Edna  was 
around?" 

"Before  Edna  was  around,"  Red  re- 
plied, "nobody  called  me  up." 

Edna  had  been  around  for  a  long 
time,  taking  care  of  things  for  a  long 
time,  and  it  is  revealing  no  secret  to 
say  that  at  this  time  Red  was  taking 
his  marriage  pretty  casually. 

It  wasn't  much  fun  for  Edna,  as  a 
good  many  of  Red's  friends  noticed — 
particularly  Frank  Borzage  who  di- 
rected Red's  early  pictures. 

Edna  was  young,  too,  and  pretty,  but 
she  wasn't  having  any  flings  like  Red's. 

She  remembers  one  night  when  Red 
came  home  for  dinner  at  9:30,  bursting 
with  explanations. 

"I  ran  into  Uncle  Frank  and  Uncle 
Boo  at  the  club  and  they  wanted  to  sit 
around    and    hash,"    he    said.      (Uncle 


Frank  was  Mr.  Borzage,  and  Uncle  Boo 
is  Boo  Roos,  Red's  investment  man- 
ager.) 

"Well,"  said  Edna  quietly,  "you  go 
on  in  the  study  and  relax.  I'll  try  to  dig 
you  up  some  supper." 

Red  sauntered  into  the  study  to  find 
Uncle  Boo,  waiting  with  papers  for  Red 
to  sign.  He  had  been  there  for  four 
hours,  by  appointment. 

Edna  laughed,  but  you  can't  go  on 
laughing  forever,  and  in  1941  Edna  de- 
cided to  divorce  Junior,  let  him  have 
his  fling  with  no  strings  attached. 

Red  was  indignant. 

"What  you  gonna  tell  that  judge?"  he 
demanded,  "If  you  tell  him  that  I  made 
you  sick,  that  you  just  wasted  away,  if 
you  tell  him  anything  like  that  I'll — " 

What  Edna  finally  did  say  was,  "We 
just  didn't  get  along." 

"Didn't  get  along?"  the  judge  asked. 

Who   does?    was   implied. 

"Well,"  Edna  went  on,  "I  got  sick  of 
the  same  old  alibis." 

"Such  as?" 

"CJUCH  as  the  night  he  came  home  at 

13  3  A.M.  and  said  'I'm  sorry  to  be 
late,  but  I've  been  waiting  for  the 
Sunset-Sepulveda  light  to  change.'  " 

The  courtroom  rocked,  and  in  the 
hub-bub  Edna  could  just  barely  hear 
the  judge's  voice  saying,  "Divorce 
granted." 

Thus,  to  the  accompaniment  of  a  bel- 
ly laugh,  Red  was  set  free  to  have  his 
fling,  and  Edna  was  free  to  mary  Frank 
Borzage,  who  had  admired  her  from 
the  very  first  day  she  brought  "Junior" 
onto  his  MGM  set. 

Red  had  his  lonely  days;  it  was  then 
that  he  began  painting.  He  had  never 
had  any  training  in  the  arts,  never  had 
a  paint  brush  in  his  hand,  but  his  first 
painting  was  an  oil  and  good.  It  was 
a  portrait  of  a  clown. 

That  first  painting  is  now  the  center 
of  interest  in  Edna  Borzage's  Westwood 
apartment,  and  the  walls  of  all  the 
rooms  are  hung  with  later  Skelton 
clowns. 

Red  shouldn't  have  complained  about 
time  on  his  hands,  for  in  June,  1944,  as 
it  must  in  those  days  to  all  men  young 
and  hearty  and  unencumbered  by  de- 
pendents, came  the  President's  Greet- 
ings. 

Red  reported  to  Camp  Roberts,  Cali- 
fornia, a  very  private  private  assigned 
to  Battery  F,  53rd  Field  Artillery. 

It  shouldn't  have  happened  to  the 
Army. 

Things  started  happening  at  Camp 
Roberts  the  day  Junior  arrived. 

The  battery  was  sent  into  the  field  for 
maneuvers.      Paired     up     to     dig     slit 


City  &  State. 


_MW49 


When  Richard — already 
known  as  Red — was  a 
few  months  old,  the 
Skeltons  lived  in  Vin- 
cennes,  Indiana.  Be- 
cause Mrs.  Skelton 
worked,  Denny,  Chris 
and  Paul  looked  af- 
ter  their  baby  brother. 


trenches,  then  camouflage  them,  the 
raw  recruits  fell  to  with  their  bayonets 
in  soil  that  was  like  cement. 

But  when  the  whistle  blew  for  in- 
spection, Red  and  his  buddy  were  cov- 
ered with  glory.  Of  all  the  slit 
trenches,  theirs  obviously  was  the  deep- 
est. Junior's  red  hair  behind  the 
tangled  camouflage  branches  hardly 
showed  at  all. 

"Great  work,"  the  Captain  com- 
mended them,  and  he  challenged  the 
others,  "watch  these  men  and  learn 
how  to  dig." 

Then  he  walked  around  in  back,  only 
to  find  Red  and  his  buddy  walking 
around  in  their  trench  on  their  knees. 

Red  wasn't  out  of  trouble  during  his 
whole  army  career. 

Red  limped  back  to  the  barracks  one 
time  after  a  twenty-flve  mile  hike  to 
find  the  big  barn-like  structure  draped 
with  banners,  "Tour  of  Movie  Star's 
Home,   Twenty-Five   Cents." 

He  was  so  pleased  that  that  night  he 
gave  the  boys  a  show. 

From  that  day,  he  did  double  duty.  A 
private  in  the  field  by  day,  the  camp's 
Number  One  morale  builder  at  night. 

At  this  point,  Edna  received  a  frantic 
telephone  call. 

She  expected  the  usual  Sunday  night 
wail  in  Junior's  bad-boy  voice: 

"you  tell  my  mummie  I'ra  broke  and  if 
I  she  doesn't  send  money,  I'll  be  in  the 
guard  house." 

This  time  it  was  different. 

"Mummie,  I'm  in  real  trouble.  I've 
run  out  of  jokes." 

It  took  nineteen  people  working  day 
and  night  to  do  it,  but  a  week  later  Red 
had  a  gag  file  with  80,000  jokes  and 
sight  bits,  all  on  12  by  12  sheets,  just 
the  size  of  his  foot  locker. 

After  that,  it  was  easy  to  get  up  a 
new  show  every  night. 

The  army  didn't  think  much  of  Pri- 
vate Skelton  in  the  field,  but  Private 
Skelton  on  the  stage  was  worth  his 
weight  in  K-rations. 

And  the  Captain  with  whom  Red  had 
tangled  so  often  found  himself  in  the 
interesting  position  of  offering  his  prob- 
lem child  a  stripe,  for  Private  First 
Class. 

Red  refused  it. 

"Tomorrow  I'll  get  in  dutch  again 
and  you'll  make  me  take  it  off,  and  I'll 
have  to  explain  to  everybody  how  all 
those  stitch-marks  got  on  my  sleeve," 
he   explained  politely. 

"If  you  please,  sir,  I'll  give  you  four 
dollars  a  month  to  keep  it." 

"Just  for  that,"  said  the  Captain,  "you 
won't  get  it." 

But  he  did  come  home  with  a  Good 
Conduct  Medal. 

In  the  spring  of  '45,  during  a  three- 
day  furlough  at  home.  Red  married 
Georgia  Davis,  a  girl  from  Kallispell, 
Montana,  with  hair  and  freckles  as 
flaming  as  his  own. 

Red  had  met  Georgia — who  was 
modeling  in  Hollywood,  and  playing 
small  parts  in  films — at  a  party  at  the 
Garry  Davises  just  before  he  was 
drafted.  She  had  written  to  him  at 
camp.  And  Red  found  that  he  missed 
her.  She  was  definitely  not  just  another 
of  the  pretty  girls  he  had  met  at  parties. 
Georgia  was  different. 

He  asked  her  to  marry  him  two  hours 
after  his  train  got  into  Los  Angeles. 
And  they  were  married — with  all  the 
trimmings — twenty-four  hours  later  in 
the  interdenominational  Beverly  Vista 
Church  in  Beverly  Hills  by  the  Rev- 
erend J.  K.  Stewart. 

His  army  service  finished.  Red  came 
back  to  a  new  kind  of  life.   With  Geor- 


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gia,  he  moved  into  his  first  real  home. 

Red  and  Edna  had  had  a  couple  of 
houses,  but  they  were  never  really  fur- 
nished and  guests  who  were  invited  to 
dinner  were  enjoined  to  bring  their  own 
dishes. 

"I  always  believed  Uncle  Boo  when 
he  said  we  couldn't  afford  to  furnish 
the  living  room,"  Edna  says. 

Red  and  Georgia  bought  a  beautiful 
Georgian  Colonial  house  in  Bel  Air, 
with  the  works. 

They  furnished  it  tastefully  with 
fine  antiques,  and  soft,  comfortable 
sofas  and  chairs.  They  soon  had  to 
furnish  the  nursery  as  well,  for  Val- 
entina  Marie,  the  first  of  their  young 
red-heads,  arrived  in  May,  1947,  and 
Richard  Freeman  a  year  and  a  month 
later. 

With  his  children,  Red  found  a  new 
kind  of  joy.  He  hovered  over  Valen- 
tina  until  her  nurses  drove  him  out  of 
the  room,  took  so  many  pictures  of  her 
that  the  first  word  she  said  was  "light." 
When,  at  ten  months,  she  discovered 
the  wonderful  dark  cave  under  the  bed. 
Red  would  crawl  under  the  bed  with 
her  and  play  for  hours. 

IN  THE  meantime,  professionally,  he 
was  rejoicing  in  the  greatest  suc- 
cesses of  his  career.  His  radio  program 
was  climbing  to  the  too  of  the  heap,  and 
"The  Fuller  Brush  Man" — made  away 
from  his  quarrel-shadowed  home  lot — 
established  him  among  the  'all-time 
great  comics  of  the  screen. 

Red  saw  no  occasion  to  be  a  good 
boy,  just  because  his  new  picture  was 
produced  at  Columbia. 

When  Harry  Cohn,  boss  of  the 
studio,  walked  onto  the  set  one  day 
and  started  to  make  boss-noises,  Red 
silenced  him  with  "Hey,  Harry,  you 
can  go  back  now.  They've  just 
cleaned  out  your  cage." 

Nobody  can  say  that  Junior  made 
good  by  buttering  up  to  the  boss. 

Christmas,  in  1948,  was  a  milestone 
for  Red.  For  the  first  time  in  twenty 
years  he  didn't  have  to  work. 

He  helped  decorate  the  tree,  wrapped 
up  the  children's  presents  which  he 
had  brought  home  in  carloads  from  the 
stores  himself,  and  on  Christmas  Day 
shot  a  hundred  flashbulbs  taking 
pictures  of  the  babies. 

And  at  his  New  Year's  Eve  broad- 
cast, when  his  friends  asked  him 
where  he  would  ring  in  the  New  Year, 
he  said: 

"You  know  that  big  pine  tree  right 
outside  the  living  room  window  at  our 
house.  At  twelve  o'clock,  I'm  going 
out  and  stand  under  that  pine  tree  and 
say  a  little  prayer." 

Red  Skelton  is  a  big  star  now,  center 
of  a  tremendous  organization  with  no 
other  care  than  to  keep  Red  in  front  of 
the  public  with  his  best  foot  forward. 

In  Edna's  office  at  the  Wilsliire 
Palms,  Anne  Tarwater,  Barbara  Geis, 
and  Mary  Lou  May  work  steadily  just 
to  keep  his  fan  letters  answered,  re- 
quests for  pictures  filled,  his  script 
files  and  scrapbook  records  up  to  date. 

Edna  and  three  radio  writers,  Ben 
Freedman,  John  Murray  and  Harry 
EUer,  toil  just  as  steadily  to  whip  the 
week's  radio  script  into  shape  for  Jun- 
ior's critical  eye  at  the  Tuesday  re- 
hearsals and  preview. 

His  radio  "family" — Producer  Keith 
McLeod,  Musical  Director  Dave  Rose, 
Sound  Technicians  Fred  Cole  and  Jack 
Robinson,  Announcer  Rod  O'Connor, 
the  versatile  regulars  of  the  cast,  Lur- 
ene  Tuttle  (Daisy  May,  Willie  Lump- 
Lump's  mother)  Verna  Felton,  (Na- 
maw,    Cactus    Kate),    Pat    McGeehan, 


(the  cowboy),  Engineer  Art  Brearley, 
and  Script  Girl  Zelda  Lamarr  work 
like  beavers  to  keep  America  laughing 
at  Skelton.  And  to  a  man  they  pro- 
claim that  Boss-Hating  Junior  is  the 
best  little  boss  in  the  world. 

Red  doesn't  think  he's  a  boss — 
doesn't  want  to  be  a  boss,  ever.  He 
would  like  to  be  a  great  comedian, 
but  hero  worshipper  that  he  is,  he  will 
name  a  dozen  others — clowns  in  cir- 
cuses and  burlesque  and  films  and 
radio — he  thinks  have  reached  greater 
comedic  heights  than  he  has. 

Greatest  of  them  all,  Red  thinks,  is 
the  great  Chaplin.  He  would  shout 
down  anyone  who  tried  to  say  that 
Red,  himself,  is  touched  with  the 
Chaplin  quality,  that  he  too  can  evoke 
the  tear  within  the  smile  which  is  the 
essence  of  "the  little  tramp's"  genius. 

But  he  has  it.  His  friends  say  he 
has.  And  they  say,  further,  that  Red 
hasn't  scratched  the  surface  of  what 
he  can  do.  Watch  him,  they  say.  He 
hasn't  begun  to  act. 

What  Red  Skelton  will  be  tomorrow 
is   another  story. 

What  is  he  today? 

Essentially,  he  is  still  Junior,  the  lit- 
tle guy  who  can  stand  in  the  middle 
of  the  room  without  touching  a  thing 
and  the  joint  falls  apart. 

Junior,  who  can  have  a  temper  tan- 
trum one  minute  and  forget  what  it 
was  about  the  next.  "Are  you  still 
thinking  about  that?"  he  will  ask  in 
amazement,  after  throwing  everybody 
into  a  whirl. 

A  little  guy  at  heart,  he  likes  little 
guys  best. 

In  an  argument,  if  he  sees  that  a  lit- 
tle fellow  is  taking  a  beating  he  will 
switch  sides  to  back  him  up.  Pretty 
soon  the  little  fellow  is  in  the  clear, 
but  Red  is  in  trouble. 

On  his  vacation  trip  last  summer 
with  Lou  Borzage  he  drove  all  over 
the  South  in  a  station  wagon,  stop- 
ping in  little  towns,  talking  with 
everybody  who  shouted  "Hey,  Red"  at 
him,  going  home  every  night  with  some 
brand  new  friend  for  a  fried  chicken 
and  corn  pone  dinner. 

Even  his  charities  are  aimed  toward 
helping  the  little  guy  in  trouble.  Red 
supports  practically  alone  Pacific 
Lodge,  a  school  for  juvenile  court 
wards  in  Los  Angeles. 

"IFOT  a  bad  boy  in  the  lot,"  he  will 
11  insist.  "Just  kids  who  never  had  a 
chance  to  live  decently." 

His  own  slim  chances,  his  own  hard 
years,  are — except  deep  in  the  un- 
conscious— forgotten. 

Still  perennially  broke,  with  no  idea 
what  he  did  with  all  that  allowance, 
still  fond  of  baubles — his  sponsor  has 
given  him  four  sets  of  gold  pencils 
and  he  carries  them  all- — still  super- 
stitious— he  wears  the  same  lucky  cuff 
links,  the  same  lucky  burgundy  tie 
which  got  his  radio  show  off  to  a  good 
start  at  every  program — still  burning 
his  brand  new  suit  every  time  he  lights 
a  cigar,  still  sorry  honestly  and  never 
going  to  do  it  again.    He's  Junior. 

For  the  most  revealing  picture  of 
Red  Skelton  as  he  is  today,  everybody 
should  tag  along  with  him — as  I  did  in 
assembling  the  material  for  this  story — 
on  his  traditional  show  day  stroll  along 
Vine  Street. 

Rehearsal  breaks  at  five.  Red  has  an 
hour  before  he  must  be  back  in  the 
studio  for  the  final  run-through. 

He  stops  for  a  moment  in  his  dress- 
ing room,  reads  letters  his  secretaries 
have  written  in  response  to  mail  from 
fans,  suggests  changes  in  nearly  every 


11.1 


one,  stops  for  a  moment  across  the 
hall  to  hear  Jimmy  Durante  run 
through  a  song.  "That  Durante  is 
great,"  he  says. 

And  then,  with  Edna,  and  anybody 
else  from  the  show  who  wants  a  lit- 
tle air  he  saunters  out  of  the  NBC 
building  into  the  throng  of  people  who 
mill  up  and  down  Hollywood's  main 
stem. 

"Hi,  Red,"  says  a  teen-age  girl,  "hey, 
did  I  tell  you  I'm  going  to  get  married 
next  week?" 

"Great,  Margie,"  he  says.  "Con- 
gratulations." 

"One  of  my  best  fans,"  he  says 
proudly. 

Willie,  a  Vine  street  character  whom 
most  performers  think  is  a  pest,  comes 
up  to  offer  to  sell  Red  a  new  gimmick 
he  has  invented. 

Red  looks  at  it  seriously. 

"Speak  to  Mrs.  Skelton — I  mean  Mrs. 
Borzage — "  he  says,  indicating  Edna, 
"she  takes  care  of  all  those  things." 

Most  radio  folk,  at  the  break,  hurry 
up  the  street  to  the  Brown  Derby  for 
a  refresher.  It  takes  Red  a  lot  longer 
to  get  to  his  rendezvous,  which  is 
nearer,  a  ramshackle  hot  dog  stand 
called  Mom's.  Mom's  is  right  across  the 
street  from  the  Derby,  but  very  few 
tourists  drop  in.  The  Brown  Derby 
has  a  thousand  pictures  of  stars  on 
the  walls.  Mom's  has  two:  Red's  and 
Edna's. 

AT  MOM'S,  leaning  against  the  oil 
cloth  counter,  Red  has  two  hot  dogs, 
with  everything.  Then  he  goes  next 
door  to  Tommy's — Tommy  is  a  Negro 
shoeblack — for  his  pre-show  shine, 
signing  autographs,  of  course,  all  the 
while. 

Next  stop  is  a  camera  shop  where 
Red  picks  up  sixty-four  dollars  worth 
of  prints  of  pictures  of  Valentina  and 
Richard  which  he  shot  on  Christmas 
Day. 

"Sixty-four  dollars!"  he  says,  in 
amazement.  Maybe  that's  where  his 
allowance  goes. 

"You  haven't  seen  anything  yet,"  the 
clerk  tells  him,  amused.  "There  are 
eight  more  rolls  to  come." 

Last  stop — for  dessert — is  the  IThrifty 
Drug  Store.  Red  and  his  entourage, 
grown  somewhat  unwieldy  by  now, 
crowd  up  to  the  counter  and  order  cof- 
fee and  oatmeal  cookies. 

"Still  dunking  doughnuts,  I  guess," 
he  explains,  apologetically.  At  the 
Derby,  things  are  fancier  and  he 
knows  it. 

Two  marines  are  sitting  across  the 
way,  choking  on  their  chocolate  ice 
cream  sodas  at  this  unexpected  break 
in  their  Movietown  furlough.  Stars, 
and  in  person. 

After  a  few  minutes,  one  of  them 
comes  up. 

"I  have  a  camera  with  me,  Mr. 
Skelton,"  he  stammers.  "Would  you 
mind  if  I  took  a  picture  of  you." 

"I'd  love  it,"  says  Mr.  Skelton,  "and 
by  the  way,  call  me  Red." 

The  Marine  carefully  sets  his  focus, 
and  shoots.  The  flash  has  gone  off  but 
the  shutter  didn't  click.  He  tries 
again.  The  shutter  clicks,  but  the  bulb 
doesn't  go  off. 

The  kid  is  out  of  bulbs.  And 
desolate. 

Everybody  at  the  counter  is  hurting. 

"Here,  leatherneck,''  says  Junior, 
digging  down  into  his  pocket,  "have 
one  of  mine."  And  he  pulls  out  one  of 
Valentina's  flash  bulbs. 

"And  hurry,  will  you.  I  have  to  get 
on  the  air." 


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THE  POPULAR  GIRL  has  more  poise  on 
"her  days"  each  month  if  she  is 
wearing  that  modern  Tampax  for 
protection.  She  is  blithely  unaware 
of  its  presence! 

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invented,  made  of  pure  surgical  cot- 
ton and  used  by  a  large  percentage 
of  nurses  recently  surveyed. 

THE  BUSY  ONE  finds  Tampax  quick  to 
change,  handy  to  carry  (average 
month's  supply  slips  into  purse) 
and  quite  bother-proof  when  dis- 
posal time  arrives. 

THE  FASHIONABLE  woman  need  not 
limit  her  wardrobe  during  "her 
days,"  for  Tampax  cannot  cause  a 
ridge  under  the  sheerest  dress. 

THE  DAINTY  GIRL  discovers  that  Tampax 
causes  no  odor.  .  .  .  Her  hands  need 
not  touch  it  while  inserting  .  .  .  And 
no  removal  for  tub  or  shower! 

THE  SENSIBLE  ONE  adds  up  all  the  ben- 
efits of  Tampax  —  and  before  the 
"month"  is  out  she  buys  it  at  drug 
or  notion  counter.  ...  3  absorben- 
cies  —  Regular,  Super,  Junior.  .  .  . 
Made  by  Tampax  Incorporated,  Pal- 
mer, Mass. 


m 
100 


Accepted  for  AdveTtising 
by  Ihe  Journal  of  the  American  A'    '     ■>  Association 


The  First  Big  Link 

{Continued  from  page  49) 


informative  talks  by  Wayne  Coy,  chair- 
man of  the  Federal  Communications 
Commission  and  by  the  heads  of  the 
four  networks— ABC,  CBS,  NBC  and 
DuMont.  There  were  greetings  from 
Mayor  Martin  H.  Kennelly  of  Chicago 
and  President  of  the  City  Council  Vin- 
cent Impelliteri  of  New  York.  The 
AT&T  showed  a  masterly  film,  "The 
Story  of  Network  Television,"  for 
which  someone  should  get  an  "Oscar." 
It  made  complicated  TV  technicalities 
seem  relatively  simple,  at  least  during 
the  few  minutes  the  film  was  being 
shown.  Even  those  who  forgot  some  of 
it  soon  after  will  never  be  quite  so 
much  in  the  dark  about  how  TV  is  car- 
ried long-distance. 

In  Chicago,  when  announcers  said, 
"We  now  switch  you  to  New  York," 
both  viewers  and  workers  felt  small 
tingles  creep  up  their  spines.  At  station 
controls  all  along  the  line  engineers 
scanned  scopes,  watched  monitors, 
listened  to  cue  lines,  their  tension 
showing  up  only  in  pipe  stems  bitten 
a  trifle  harder,  buttons  punched  a  trifle 
faster.  Through  television  one  got  the 
feeling  of  being  in  two  places  at  the 
same  time. 

From  New  York,  CBS's  Arthur  God- 
frey led  the  strictly  entertainment  nor- 
tion  of  the  opening  night  show  with  a 
preview  of  Arthur  Godfrey  and  His 
Friends,  which  made  its  actual  debut 
the  next  night.  There  were  also  a 
sample  of  a  Lucky  Pup  puppet  show 
and  a  Douglas  Edwards  news  telecast. 
(You'll  find  more  on  these  programs 
in  the  TV  section.)  DuMont  introduced 
a  brand-new  sixteen-man  studio  or- 
chestra with  Ted  Steele  as  emcee  con- 
ductor and  pianist,  a  comic  violinist, 
a  harpist  and  a  seven-year-old  ballet 
dancer.  NBC,  for  this  historic  occasion 
presented  a  shortened  version  of  a 
typical  Milton  Berle  show,  one  of  this 
top  comedian's  best  on  television.  Harry 
Richman  flew  up  from  Florida  to  work 
with  Berle  and  their  performance 
ended  with  blackface  impersonations  of 
Cantor  and  Jolson. 

While  all  this  was  going  on  in  New 
York,  Chicago's  backstage  excitement 
was  concentrated  at  ABC's  WENR, 
ABC  being  the  only  network  prepared 
to  feed  the  east-bound  line  that  night. 
Since  the  Chicago  telecast  was  pooled, 
only  engineers  worked  at  the  other 
three  Chicago  stations— WGN,  WBKB 
and  the  NBC  station  WNBQ. 


When  the  New  York  portion  of  the 
entertainment  program  was  over,  an 
announcer  said:  "We  now  switch  to 
Chicago."  These  switches  were  unques- 
tionably the  big  thrills  of  the  occasion. 
There  was  a  cut.  A  gun  nosed  into  the 
title  card,  and  a  voice  proclaimed, 
"Stand  By  for  Crime!" 

Plenty  of  praise  was  heard  next  day, 
for  the  fifteen-minute  capsule  mys- 
tery show,  with  viewer  Marc  Connelly 
in  New  York  playing  guest  detective, 
proved  to  the  east  that  all  the  slick, 
smooth  television-theater  performances 
weren't  confined  to  its  time  belt. 

A  fellow  well  known  to  radio  listen- 
ers could  take  a  bow  for  his  part  in  the 
smooth  way  the  opening  night  pro- 
grams moved  along.  His  name  is  George 
F.  Putnam. 

Now  that  the  coax  is  carrying  its  full 
load  of  westbound  and  eastbound 
shows,  the  rivalry  is  on.  Here  is  the 
competition  for  which  we  were  all 
waiting,  for  out  of  similar  rivalry  for 
time  and  attention  great  shows  were 
born  in  the  early  days  of  radio.  Day- 
time TV,  an  accomplished  fact  since 
DuMont  led  the  parade  with  its  full- 
day  programming  in  the  east  last 
November  1,  is  booming  now  both  east 
and  mid-west. 

No  one's  making  any  definite  pre- 
dictions at  this  point,  but  they  say 
there's  a  date  somewhere  in  1950  when 
you'd  better  get  set  for  another  historic 
occasion.  That  will  be  when  the  coaxial 
cable  and  the  radio  relays  carry  the 
programs  to  the  far  west  and  bring 
their  talent  to  us.  Those  little  copper 
tubes  about  the  size  of  a  pencil,  enclosed 
in  coaxial  cable,  and  buried  under- 
ground, with  their  amplifying  equip- 
ment and  with  all  their  complicated 
apparatus,  are  heeding  the  old  admoni- 
tion to  "Go  West."  So  are  the  radio 
relay  towers,  with  their  directional 
antennas  that  beam  the  super-high 
frequencies  called  micro-waves. 

But  the  technical  problems  of  TV, 
fascinating  as  they  are  to  engineers, 
are  not  the  matters  of  chief  moment 
to  the  average  viewer.  What  does  mat- 
ter most  to  us  is  quality,  and  the  vital 
fact  that  as  the  cable  expands,  tele- 
vision's all-day,  all-evening  program- 
ming, the  increasingly  high  standards 
that  competition  must  develop,  are 
going  to  have  profound  effects  on  our 
daily  lives.  We're  looking  forward 
eagerly,  curiously — and  hopefully. 


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"You  Can't  Let  Up" 

(Continued  from  page  39) 

got  to  straighten  out,"  his  father  said 
more  than  once.  "You've  got  to 
buckle  down   in   school." 

To  make  this  point  stronger,  Bill  was 
shipped  off  to  a  boarding  school  at 
the  age  of  fifteen.  His  parents  hoped 
that  strict  supervision  would  keep  him 
in  line  but  they  overlooked  a  simple 
geographical  fact.  The  school  was  in 
Tarrytown,  a  stone's  throw  from  New 
York  City  and  the  nenns  of  Broadway. 

Bill  was  often  AWOL  to  the  thea- 
ters and  eventually  expelled,  but  in 
the  meantime  his  desires  were  whetted 
and  he  made  many  friends  in  show 
business.  One  in  particular  was  a 
young  lady  named  Ruby  Stevens,  hoof- 
ing in  a  Broadway  musical.  Today 
their  friendship  continues,  although 
their  careers  parted  when  Bill  struck 
into  radio  and  Ruby  went  to  Hollywood. 
Now  Ruby  Stevens  is  one  of  the  coun- 
try's favorite  screen  stars.  You  know 
her  as  Barbara  Stanwyck. 

ONE  more  effort  was  made  to  prep  Bill 
for  Cornell  and  he  was  sent  to  a 
private  school  farther  from  New  York. 
But  when  the  time  came  to  take  en- 
trance exams  for  Cornell,  he  flunked 
cold.  Then  he  was  enrolled  as  a  stu- 
dent at  Pennsylvania  Military  College. 

"It  was  the  turning  point  in  my  life," 
Bill  admits.  "I  learned  to  discipline  my 
energies." 

He  graduated  one  of  the  top  three 
men  in  his  class.  He  had  learned  the 
hard  way  that  it  was  easier  to  obey  the 
rules  than  walk  guard  duty  with  a 
seventy-five-pound  pack.  There  was 
an  incentive  to  work  his  way  from 
private  to  captain  when  he  had  to 
polish  shoes  of  boys  who  outranked 
him.  He  had  even  found  time  to  quar- 
terback the  varsity  football  team. 

"But  we  had  one  of  the  most  unsuc- 
cessful seasons  in  the  history  of  the 
school,"  Bill  says. 

His  family  had  every  reason  to  be 
proud  when  he  graduated  in  1930.  Bill 
had  gained  the  respect  of  the  faculty 
and  proved  himself  to  be  a  good 
scholar.  His  parents  assumed  he  had 
also  given  up  his  boyhood  dream  of 
being  an  athlete  or  actor.  They  were 
half  right.  By  then  Bill  knew  that  his 
slight  build  limited  his  athletic  ability. 
But  he  rejected  the  jobs  his  family 
offered    and    headed    for    Hollywood. 

In  the  ever-ever  land  of  glamor.  Bill 
soon  found  that  the  high  studio  walls 
were  not  props,  that  a  director  was  as 
hard  to  get  next  to  as  the  crown 
jewels  of  England.  He  tramped  from 
one  casting  office  to  another  for  days 
that  ran  into  months.  Just  as  his 
money  and  spirit  ran  out,  Bill  finally 
made  a  connection.  He  got  a  job  with 
a  major  studio — digging  fence  post 
holes  at  five  dollars  a  day. 

Was  he  discouraged?  A  little,  but 
in  the  fighting  vernacular,  he  was 
down  but  not  out.  If  he  couldn't  get 
a  foothold  in  Hollywood  there  was  still 
New  York.  On  his  way  east  he  stopped 
off  at  Rochester.  Again  his  family  tried 
to  persuade  him  to  give  up.  But  Bill 
had  made  up  his  mind  to  get  into  show 
business  even  if  it  meant  getting  a  job 
as  an  usher.  And  that  was  the  job  he 
got,  in  a  small,  second  rate  movie  house. 

"I  was  much  too  ambitious  to  stay 
there,"  Bill  explains  wryly.  "I  soon 
went  to  the  Roxy  theater." 

At  the  Roxy  he  saw  the  famous  stage 
shows  more  frequently  than  the  pay- 
ing customers,  but  only  from  the  front. 


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He  wanted  to  get  backstage,  into  the 
inside.  However,  ushers  were  not  al- 
lowed to  watch  rehearsals. 

Bill  took  the  matter  into  his  own 
hands.  On  Wednesday  nights,  when 
the  show  changed,  he  hid  in  a  broom 
closet  till  the  theater  was  cleared  and 
closed.  Then  he  would  sneak  into  the 
dark  recess  of  the  balcony.  From  2  A.M. 
until  late  morning  when  he  reported 
back  to  the  ushers'  room,  he  watched 
the  new  stage  show  being  put  together. 

He  sat  through  many  rehearsals  un- 
noticed. One  night  the  house  lights 
suddenly  went  on.  Then  a  man  was 
walking  toward  him.  Bill  looked  for 
an  escape  but  there  was  no  way  to 
move.  He  was  caught.  And  this  was  no 
ordinary  employee  approaching.  It  was 
Roxy  himself. 

"Who   are  you?"   Roxy  asked. 

Bill  told  him  that  he  was  an  usher 
and  why  he  was  watching  the  rehearsal. 

"Oh,  an  usher,"  said  Roxy.  "Well, 
come   this  way." 

BILL  followed,  not  knowing  whether 
he  would  be  turned  over  to  the  police 
or  merely  fired.  Instead,  Roxy  had 
Bill  sit  by  his  side  and  during  the  long 
hours  of  rehearsal  occasionally  ques- 
tioned Bill's  judgment  on  the  acts.  At 
seven  in  the  morning,  he  gave  Bill  a 
job  on  the  stage  and  jumped  his  sal- 
ary from  $16  to  $50  a  week. 

"But  for  the  next  couple  of  months," 
Roxy  advised,  "keep  your  mouth  shut 
and  your  eyes  open." 

Six  months  later.  Bill  became  As- 
sistant Stage  Manager  and  grew  to  love 
and  respect  Roxy. 

"He  was  a  rare  kind  of  man,"  Bill 
tells  you.  "If  you  held  the  job,  you  got 
the  dough  whether  you  were  fifteen  or 
fifty.  None  of  this  hokum  about  work- 
ing for  experience." 

A  year  and  a  half  had  passed  when 
the  stage  manager  announced  he  was 
quitting.  Roxy  was  traveling  abroad. 
Bill  asked  the  manager  for  his  job  and 
was  told  he  didn't  have  enough  expe- 
rience. It  was  then  that  he  took 
action  with  the  same  audacity  that  was 
to  get  him  in  trouble  later  with  NBC. 

Bill  got  Roxy's  foreign  address  and 
cabled:  "Can  I  have  stage  manager's 
job  and  salary." 

Then  he  waited  uneasily  for  Roxy's 
answer.  He  had  done  the  wrong  thing. 
He  had  gone  over  the  stage  manager's 
head.  In  a  few  hours  he  might  be  out 
on  the  street  looking  for  work.  The 
next  day,  after  twenty-four  anxious 
hours,  a  one-word  cable  came  back 
from  Roxy:     "Yes." 

Bill  was  elated,  although  today  he 
agrees  that  his  experience  didn't  war- 
rant that  job.  But  he  hung  on  and 
worked  hard.  When  Roxy  moved  into 
the  Music  Hall  in  1932,  Bill  went  with 
him. 

Sometime  during  the  next  few  years 
of  kicking  around  and  being  kicked. 
Bill  had  solved  the  answer  to  his  con- 
flicting love  of  show  business  and 
sports.  He  knew  definitely  that  he 
wanted  to  be  a  sports  announcer.  And 
while  other  people  were  singing  in  the 
shower,  Bill,  under  the  noisy  chatter 
of  water,  rehearsed  imaginary  games. 
When  NBC  moved  into  Rockefeller 
Center,  Bill  made  it  his  business  to  meet 
John  Royal,  vice  president  in  charge 
of  programing. 

"I  plagued  Royal  as  often  as  I 
could  see  him,"  Bill  said.  "Years  later 
I  learned  they  gave  me  a  try-out  only 
because  I  was  a  nuisance." 

NBC  sent  Bill  to  Baltimore  with  the 
great  Graham  McNamee  to  cover  a 
collegiate  football  game.  Royal  was 
allowing  Bill  only  two  minutes  of  air 


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time  to  show  his  stufE.  Bill  was 
keyed  up  and  sat  expectantly  in  the 
broadcaster's  booth  waiting  to  get  the 
mike.  It  was  a  slow  game  till  Navy 
suddenly  came  to  life  and  began  a 
march  to  the  goal.  When  Navy  was 
on  William  and  Mary's  2-yard  line,  a 
touchdown  looked  almost  certain.  The 
stadium  crowd  was  on  its  feet. 

"It  was  then  that  McNamee  gave  me 
the  mike  and  demonstrated  his  big 
heart,"  Bill  said.  "He  gave  me  the 
most  exciting  part  of  the  game  to 
report." 

NBC  executives  were  satisfied  with 
Bill's  announcing  and  told  him  he 
could  do  one  fourth  of  every  football 
game  that  season.  But  Bill  began  to 
get  anxious.  He  doubted  that  John 
Royal  was  really  impressed  with  his 
work.  He  wanted  to  do  something  to 
insure  his  Job.  So  he  asked  fifteen  of 
his  friends  to  send  telegrams  to  Royal 
saying  that  Bill  Stern  was  the  best 
sports  announcer  they'd  ever  heard. 
They  did,  and  the  next  day  Bill  was 
called  to  Royal's  office. 

"I've  got  a  pile  of  wires  telling  me 
how  good  you  are,"  Royal  said. 

Royal  wasn't  smiling  and  Bill  sensed 
something   was   wrong. 

"Not  only  do  I  think  you  aren't  the 
greatest  sports  announcer  in  the 
world,"  Royal  continued,  "but  I'd  say 
you  are  stupid."  Angrily,  he  asked 
Bill,  "How  would  ordinary  football 
fans  know  my  name?  They  would  send 
telegrams  to  NBC,  not  me." 

Then  Bill  knew  what  was  coming, 
even  before  he  heard  Royal's  last 
words.     "Stern,  you're  fired."" 

Now  what?  Bill  could  be  a  stage 
manager  again,  living  with  the  knowl- 
edge that  he  had  been  beaten.  Or  he 
could  take  another  announcing  job  out 
of  town  and  work  right  back  up — or 
maybe  get  lost  forever.  In  a  little  time, 
he  decided  that  if  the  sportscaster  job 
was  worth  having,  it  was  worth  fight- 
ing for.  When  he  was  offered  an  as- 
signment to  cover  football  in  the 
Southwestern  Conference,  he  drove  to 
Texas.  It  was  then,  in  the  fall  of  1935, 
that  he  had  his  most  shocking 
experience. 

Early  on  a  Sunday  morning  he  was 
driving  back  to  Austin.  The  day  before 
he  had  broadcast  a  football  game.  It 
had  been  a  good  game  and  this  was  a 
beautiful  morning.  The  highway  was 
clear  and  Bill  relaxed,  pushing  his 
convertible  along.  As  he  topped  the 
rise  of  a  hill,  he  tensed,  his  foot  jerked 
to  the  brake  and  he  tried  to  swing  his 
car  aside.  He  was  too  late.  He  smashed 
into  a  truck  coming  out  of  a  side  road. 

THE  rear  of  Bill's  car  lifted  into  the  air, 
somersaulted  and  splintered  into  a 
ditch.  There  was  a  crackle  then  an  ex- 
plosion as  the  car  caught  fire.  Bill 
dragged  himself  into  some  weeds,  then 
lost  consciousness. 

When  he  awoke,  he  lay  in  a  small 
hospital  in  Tague,  Texas. 

"It's  a  compound  fracture  of  the  leg," 
the  doctor  told  him,  "but  you'll  be  all 
right." 

He  was  in  that  hospital  for  four  days; 
then  a  friend  came  and  took  him  to  New 
York  on  a  stretcher.  Ten  days  later  he 
was  in  the  Hospital  for  Joint  Diseases 
and  Bill  knew  it  wasn't  all  right. 

"We're  going  to  open  up  your  leg 
again,"  they  said.  "Infection  has  set  in." 

An  hour  later  the  doctors  told  him. 
They  told  him  they  opened  the  wound 
and  took  out  gravel  and  sand  and  dirt 
that  had  been  there  over  a  week.  They 
said  something  else  too.  One  dreaded 
word.     "Gangrene." 

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miles  away,  had  neglected  to  perform 
the  elementary  duty  of  cleaning  an  in- 
jury, Bill  Stern  lost  a  leg. 

That  was  the  lowest  point  in  his  life. 
He  came  close  to  giving  up.  His  friends 
couldn't  cheer  him.  They  could  hardly 
talk  to  him.  Bill  was  living  within  him- 
self and  his  mind  was  a  desolate  pit  of 
gloom  and  despair.  He  didn't  have  a 
fighting  chance  now,  he  thought.  Not  a 
chance. 

News  of  Bill's  accident  got  over  to 
NBC  and  an  executive  who  remem- 
bered Bill  stopped  at  the  hospital  on 
his  way  to  work.  As  he  walked  into 
Bill's  room,  the  nurse  was  wheeling  out 
a  breakfast  tray,  the  food  was  un- 
touched. The  man  looked  at  Bill  and 
immediately  realized  the  state  of  his 
mind. 

"Better  eat  that  food  and  get  well," 
he  told  Bill.  "We  want  you  back  at 
NBC." 

Bill  looked  up,  not  believing  what 
he'd  heard. 

"We're  going  to  make  a  real  sports 
announcer  out  of  you,"  the  executive 
repeated. 

BILL  was  speechless.  He  barely  mur- 
mured his  thanks.  The  man  left  the 
hospital  not  realizing  he  had  actually 
saved  a  man's  life,  for  only  Bill  knew 
that  he  was  about  to  give  up.  And  the 
strange  thing  is  that  the  executive  was 
John  Royal,  the  same  man  who  a  year 
before  had  fired  him. 

It  was  in  June  1937  that  Bill  was  per- 
manently assigned  to  the  NBC  special 
events  staff,  and  what  he  has  done  since 
is   public   knowledge. 

Blow  by  blow,  stroke  by  stroke  or 
play  by  play.  Bill  sends  the  action  and 
color  of  an  event  into  the  home  so 
vividly  that  you  can  feel  the  impact 
of  bodies  and  taste  the  mustard  on  the 
hot  dog.  His  delivery,  which  may  run 
as  high  as  350  words  a  minute  on  a 
hockey  game,  is  accurate  and  unfalter- 
ing. If  there  is  a  slight  pause  or  halt 
in  his  report,  engineers  check  their 
equipment.  They  know  Bill  Stern  has 
never  fed  his  audience  dead  air. 

What  makes  him  the  best  sports  an- 
nouncer? Hard  work  and  more  of  the 
same.  The  fifteen  minute  show  you 
hear  every  Friday  night  is  not  ad  lib. 
Bill  spends  ten  hours  rehearsing  and 
correcting  the  timing  down  to  a  split 
second — part  of  the  lesson  he  learned 
from  Roxy.  For  a  football  game  he  may 
spend  a  week  on  concentrated  research 
and  two  or  three  days  with  the  coaches 
and  players. 

"But  I  still  pull  my  share  of  boners," 
Bill  admits  and  tells  of  the  embarrass- 
ing incident  when  he  was  reporting  the 
Indianapolis  Speed  Classic  in  1939. 

Below  the  broadcasting  booth,  the 
cars  sped  around  the  track,  sometimes 
too  fast  to  see  the  numbers.  Bill  was 
talking  about  Floyd  Roberts.  He  was 
the  man  to  watch. 

"I'm  keeping  my  eye  on  Roberts,"  he^ 
said  into  the  mike.  "He's  been  leading* 
the  pack  all  afternoon  and  he's  still  in 
front." 

There  was  a  tap  on  Bill's  shoulder 
and  he  looked  around. 

"I  guess  I'm  doing  pretty  good,"  the 
man  said. 

It  was  Floyd  Roberts.  He  had  pulled 
his  car  into  the  pit  for  quick  repair  and 
hopped  up  to  the  booth  to  say  hello. 

Bill  will  go  on  to  tell  you  that  the 
same  afternoon,  Floyd  Roberts  sacri- 
ficed the  race  and  his  life  on  the  track 
to  save  a  man  who  was  already  dead. 

It's  coming  to  grips  with  dramatic 
episodes  like  this  and  probing  into  the 
personal  emotion  behind  every  athlete's 
loss  and  victory  that  has  made  Bill  top 


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man.  But  to  know  the  inside  facts  re- 
quires constant  alertness  and  a  contin- 
uous expenditure  of  energy. 

"Sometimes  Bill  reminds  me  of  a  man 
who's  auditioning  for  a  nervous  break- 
down," his  wife  says  apprehensively. 

Harriet  Stern  is  a  pretty  woman,  two 
inches  over  five  feet  tall,  with  brown 
hair  and  eyes  that  may  be  gray  or  green 
depending  on  the  color  of  the  room. 

"I  gave  up  inviting  people  to  dinner 
a  long  time  ago,"  she  said.  "Either  Bill 
was  terribly  late  or  didn't  show  up  at 
all.  It's  worse  than  being  married  to  a 
traveling  salesman,  I  think." 

Harriet  and  Bill  are  lucky  if  they 
have  one  evening  a  week  together.  For 
two  nights  a  week.  Bill  is  working  on 
newsreels,  another  night  on  a  monthly 
movie  short.  He  does  five  other  broad- 
casts in  the  metropolitan  area  and  there 
is  the  network  show  on  Friday.  The 
weekend  is  usually  shot  on  a  football 
game  or  some  other  sports  event.  He 
has  written  three  books  and  does  a 
monthly  article  for  Sport  Magazine. 
Wednesday  he  flies  to  an  army  camp  in 
New  England,  the  South  or  East.  Every 
year  he  travels  100,000  miles  and  in 
spite  of  rain,  sleet  or  snow  has  never 
missed  a  broadcast.  In  the  past  twelve 
years,  his  work  frequently  kept  him 
from  celebrating  a  wedding  anniversary 
or  a  birthday  party  with  his  children. 
He  has  two:  Peter,  aged  eight,  and  Mary 
May,  five. 

Once  Bill  had  Peter  on  his  Friday 
show  and  asked  him  if  he'd  like  to  be  a 
sports  announcer  some  day. 

"No,"  Peter  said. 

"Why  not?" 

"You  talk  too  much." 

The  children  are  crazy  about  their 
father.  They  have  only  one  gripe.  Bill 
I'kes  to  plav  with  their  tovs.  It's  one  of 
his  few  relaxations.  Like  few  other 
celebrities.  Bill  has  no  time  for  hobbies 
and  claims  none.  What  he  usually  brings 
home  with  him  is  more  work  or  some- 
one to  interview. 

Yet  there's  one  thing  Bill  finds  time 
for.  He  has  time  to  be  a  human  being. 
His  friends,  and  he  has  many,  will  tell 
you  Bill  is  a  kind  and  considerate  man. 
It  shows  in  the  material  he  uses  and 
around  NBC  they  often  talk  about  the 
little  things  and  ordinary  people  he 
finds  time  for.  Like  the  little  boy  who 
rushed  into  a  fire  to  save  his  dog  and 
let  a  brand  new  bicycle  go  up  in  smoke. 

BILL  told  the  story  over  the  air,  not  be- 
cause he  wanted  a  bicycle  fund,  but 
he  knew  there  was  a  moral  there 
worthy  of  anyone's  ears.  It  was  inci- 
dental that  enough  contributions  came 
in  to  buy  the  kid  one  hundred  bikes. 

It's  things  like  this,  the  human  drama, 
that  keep  Bill  going.  For  his  job  is 
more  taxing  than  most.  He's  never  in 
the  position  where  he  can  sit  back  and 
coast.  Every  sport  event  is  something 
new  and  different  all  over  again,  re- 
quiring complete  preparation.  There 
are  always  new  athletes  to  be  studied 
and  watched. 

"It's  a  tough  job  and  I'm  crazy  about 
it,"  Bill  will  say  but  sometimes  adds, 
"If  I  had  to  do  it  all  over  again,  I 
wouldn't." 

His  close  friends  think  he  would.  For 
Bill  Stern  accepts  a  challenge  with  the 
spirit  of  an  athlete.  It's  not  a  blind, 
dumb  courage.  As  a  sensitive  and  intel- 
ligent man,  he  knows  when  the  odds 
are  against  him  but  it  only  strengthens 
his  determination. 

That's  a  good  reason  why,  next  time 
you  hear  Bill  Stern  dramatizing  the 
life  of  a  champion,  you  might  remind 
yourself  that  the  man  with  the  voice  is 
in  every  way  a  champion  himself. 


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When  a  Girl  Marries 

{Continued  from  page  67) 

and  doctor  bills  to  pay,  I  worry-  I  can't 
make  my  husband  understand  that  I  do 
love  him  and  my  children  and  want  to 
make  them  a  wonderful  home,  be  a 
wonderful  wife  and  mother.  I  pray  that 
God  will  make  me  strong  again  so  I 
can  be  with  them  for  many  years  and 
show  them  I  do  love  them  more  than 
anything  on  earth.  I  want  to  make  them 
happy.     Can  you  help  me? 

Zelma  H. 
Dear  Zelma  H.: 

I  wish,  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart, 
that  I  could  help  to  make  you  happy  m 
some  way  more  concrete  than  this.  But 
here  is  my  advice,  and  I  hope  it  does 
help  a  little.  Have  you  talked  this 
over  with  your  husband — with  your 
children,  too,  especially  the  boy,  who  is 
old  enough  to  understand,  at  least  a 
little?  Perhaps,  if  you  find  it  hard  to 
put  your  problem  into  words  to  your 
husband,  you  could  show  him  this  let- 
ter. And  ask  your  doctor  to  help  you — 
ask  him  to  explain  to  your  husband 
that  your  condition  makes  you  so  tired 
sometimes  that  you  can't  show  the 
aff^-^tion  that   is   really   in  your  heart. 

Here's  something  else — don't  do  any- 
thing more  than  you  have  to  do  in  the 
way  of  housework.  There's  a  time  and 
a  place  for  everything,  but  your  present 
condition  doesn't  call  for  your  being  a 
good  housekeeper.  Do  as  little  physical 
work  as  you  possibly  can.  Perhaps,  in 
that  way,  you  can  save  a  little  strength 
to  spend  on  your  husband  and  family — 
and  believe  me,  they're  much  more  im- 
portant than  any  housework.  But  best 
of  all,  tell  your  husband  exactly  how 
you  feel — tell  him  in  the  words  you've 
used  to  tell  me.  Surely,  if  those  words 
touched  my  heart— the  heart  of  a 
stranger — they  can't  fail  to  reach  the 
heart  of  the  man  who  loves  you!  The 
very  best  of  luck  to  you,  and  my  sincere 
wishes  for  your  speedy  recovery. 

Joan  Davis 

"I  DON'T  KNOW" 

Dear  Joan  Davis: 

I  have  been  married  three  months. 
My  husband  is  very  much  in  love  with 
me  and  I  with  him.  I  want  to  please  my 
husband,  so  I  always  ask  him  if  he 
wants  this  or  that.  He  never  gives  me 
a  satisfactory  answer.  He  either  says 
"I  don't  know"  or  "maybe."  It  puzzles 
me  so  much,  and  I  don't  know  what  to 
do.     Please  tell  me  what  to  do. 

Mildred  J. 
Dear  Mildred  J.: 

You  will  find — you're  already  finding 
— that  the  early  months  of  marriage  are 
a  period  of  readjustment.  You're  find- 
ing out  that  there  are  a  number  of 
things  you  don't  understand  about  this 
new  husband  of  yours — and  he's  doubt- 
less finding  a  great  number  he  doesn't 
understand  about  you!  But  you  love 
each  other — and  so,  you'll  find  when 
these  first  few  months  are  over  and 
you're  adjusted  to  your  new  way  of 
life,  that  most  of  those  things  aren't 
worth  bothering  about,  that,  as  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,  you've  forgotten  them. 

Let's  look  at  it  from  your  husband's 
point  of  view.  Perhaps  you  ask  him  if 
he'd  like  such-and-such  a  dish  for  din- 
ner. And  he  says  he  doesn't  know,  or 
"maybe."  Well,  perhaps  he  doesn't 
know — perhaps  he's  never  tried  it.  Or 
perhaps  he  doesn't  know  whether  or 
not  it's  a  lot  of  trouble  to  prepare,  arid 
if  he  says  yes  he  may  be  letting  you  in 
for  a  lot  of  extra  work.    Or  perhaps  you 


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ask  him  just  after  a  good,  hearty  break- 
fast, when  nothing  in  the  way  of  food 
would  sound  very  appealing.  Or  per- 
haps he's  the  kind  of  man  who's  good 
about  making  decisions  in  a  crisis,  but 
no  good  whatever  about  deciding  in- 
significant matters — if  he  is,  you'll  just 
have  to  make  up  your  mind  to  grin  and 
bear  it.  (And  if  and  when  a  crisis  does 
come  along,  you'll  thank  your  lucky 
stars  for  him!) 

Try  to  understand,  when  your  hus- 
band says  "I  don't  know"  or  "maybe," 
when  he  makes  that  sort  of  answer — 
along  the  lines  of  the  example  I've 
given  you.  It's  just  possible  you'll  find 
that  some  of  your  questions  don't  de- 
serve a  better  answtr!  And  be  patient 
— believe  me,  in  a  year  or  so  you'll 
laugh  at  things  which — in  this  period 
of  readjustment  which  comes,  I  repeat, 
in  every  marriage — seem  like  insur- 
mountable obstacles. 

Joan  Davis 

BUDGET    BLUES 

Dear  Joan  Davis: 

My  husband  and  I  are  very  much  in 
love,  and  have  two  wonderful  children, 
both  boys.  Now,  here  it  is:  I  used  to 
think  people  could  get  by  without  a 
budget.  Now  I  don't  think  so.  My  hus- 
band makes  very  good  money,  but 
where  it  goes,  I  don't  know!  What  I 
want  you  to  help  me  do  is  figure  out  a 
budget  so  we  don't  spend  so  much  of 
our  money  for  food.  I  know  groceries 
are  high,  but  we  spend  too  large  a  per- 
centage of  our  money  on  food  bills.  I 
try  to  give  my  children  and  my  husband 
what  they  really  need  for  meals;  we 
have  only  a  few  very  small  debts.  If 
you  can,  please  figure  me  out  a  budget. 
I  will  be  waiting  to  hear  from  you. 

Virginia  C. 
Dear  Virginia  C: 

I'm  sorry  that  I  can't  work  out  a 
budget  to  fit  your  exact  needs,  but  I'm 
sure  you'll  understand  that  I'd  have  to 
know  a  great  deal  more  about  you  and 
your  family  to  be  able  to  do  that.  How- 
ever, I  do  think  I  can  help  you. 

In  the  first  place,  if  you  have  a  check- 
ing or  a  savings  account  at  a  bank,  the 
bank  will  help  you  work  out  a  budget 
tailor-made  to  your  income.  (And  if 
you  haven't  a  savings  account,  why 
don't  you  go  to  the  bank  and  ask  them 
to  help  you  figure  out  a  budget  that  will 
allow  for  a  savings-account  deposit, 
however  small,  each  week.  If  you  don't 
have  savings,  emergencies  may  arise 
which  can  wreck  your  careful  budget- 
ing plans  for  a  long,  long  time!) 

If  you  prefer  not  to  go  to  the  bank, 
there  are  other  institutions  which  will 
give  budget  help — your  local  newspaper 
or  perhaps  you  have  a  friend  or  relative 
who  will  help  you  set  up  a  budget. 

You  are  quite  rieht  in  lamenting  the 
high  cost  of  food.  The  Dept.  of  Agricul- 
ture has  published  a  booklet,  "Helping 
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should  be  of  assistance  to  you.  This  can 
be  obtained  by  writing  to  the  Superin- 
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of  Agriculture,  Washington,  D.  C,  and 
enclosing   fifteen   cents. 

Here  are  two  more  pieces  of  advice 
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give  up  all  idea  of  "keeping  up"  with 
anyone  else.  The  second  is  this:  take 
stock  of  your  household  and  of  yourself. 
Have  you  any  goods  or  services  you  can 
sell  or  trade?  Besides  a  new  budget,  try 
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One  Wonderful  Guy 

(Continued  jrom  page  55) 

demonstrating  what  they  want  to  do, 
he  usually  says,  "That's  great.  Now 
we've  got  a  little  gimmick.  If  you  don't 
like  it,  don't  do  it.  But  it  has  some 
more  laughs  for  you." 

It's  a  hundred  to  one  they'll  love  it. 

He  does  get  into  most  acts,  but  never 
without  permission  from  the  performer. 

A  good  TV  revue  requires  all  the  pace 
and  variety  of  the  old  vaudeville  stage, 
but  it  has  to  be  compressed  in  space. 
You  may  not  realize  it,  but  the  tele- 
vision camera  holds  only  four  people 
comfortably.  Otherwise  you  have  to 
go  to  long  shots,  and  you  can't  see  faces 
and  expressions.  So  you  have  to  sacri- 
fice some  of  your  settings  and  keep 
your  action  confined  to  small  groups. 
You  have  to  depend  on  showmanship 
— and  that's  where  Milton's  long  ex- 
perience counts. 

ONCE  in  front  of  the  cameras  there 
can  be  no  coaching,  no  covering  up, 
no  retakes.  That's  why  some  of  the  best 
actors  in  other  mediums  fall  by  the 
camera-side  in  this  one.  Some  of  the 
Hollywood  stars  have  been  super  on 
the  Berle  show.  Girls  like  Janet  Blair 
and  Vivian  Blaine.  Stage  and  screen 
stars  like  Gracie  Fields  and  Gertrude 
Niessen,  Harry  Richman,  Ted  Lewis, 
Henny  Youngman.  And  men  and  women 
who  will  follow  them  before  this  is 
published.  But  the  home  audience  is 
fast  becoming  show-conscious,  and 
consequently  more  critical.  People  who 
never  saw  a  vaudeville  show  before 
are  beginning  to  be  amazingly  accurate 
at  spotting  the  good  and  the  bad  in  it. 

Milton  knows  what  a  job  falls  on 
Harry  Kalcheim's  shoulders  when  he 
has  to  book  acts  for  a  full  hour  show 
every  week.  We  have  brought  talent 
in  from  the  west  coast,  from  overseas, 
from  Florida — for  a  one-night  perform- 
ance. If  performers  are  busy — and  the 
best  ones  are  apt  to  be — it's  difficult 
to  book  them  for  a  one-night  date.  It's 
a  tribute  to  Mr.  Kalcheim  that  we  can. 
Knowing  Berle,  Mr.  Kalcheim  never 
settles  for  second  best.  We  hold  out 
occasionally  until  the  last  rainute  for  an 
act  that  we  think  is  good  theater. 

Milton  has  been  responsible  for  the 
creation  of  some  of  the  excellent  camera 
work,  widely  copied  now,  but  some  of 
it  is  still  our  secret.  He  felt  that  TV 
should  give  to  the  viewer  at  home  the 
scope  he  might  get  sitting  in  a  theater. 
That  wasn't  easy,  because  of  the  space 
element,  but  once  again  Berle  con- 
quered. 

It  becomes  imperative  that  the  man 
in  the  control  room  has  a  complete  un- 
derstanding of  comedy.  Berle  makes 
their  job  easy.  In  directing  performers 
he  never  fails  to  bring  to  the  attention 
of  cameramen  the  importance  of  shoot- 
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put  the  punch  lines  over. 

Sitting  in  at  a  rehearsal"  you  begin 
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to  Milton.  He  directs  the  actors,  not 
only  in  the  business  but  in  the  dialogue. 
Should  they  find  a  line  difficult,  he 
alters  it.  He  paces  back  and  forth 
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I  can't  see  them  in  the  monitor.  They 
blend  too  much  with  the  set."  Or  he'll 
stop  the  scene  and  shake  his  head.  He 
doesn't  like  what  he  has  seen  on  the 
monitor  screen. 

He  supervises  the  props  and  the  cos- 


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instructions  to  everyone,  leaping  off  the 
stage  frequently  to  look  in  the  monitor. 

Each  show  requires  from  twenty-five 
to  thirty-five  pages  of  solid  material. 
Being  so  completely  involved  in  di- 
recting there  is  little  time  for  Milton  to 
memorize  his  own  lines.  So  at  five 
minutes  to  eight  Tuesday  night,  just 
before  the  show  goes  on,  Milton  will 
point  to  the  script  and  say,  "I  don't 
know  one  line  of  this  thing  I've  got 
here.    I  don't  remember  a  thing." 

I'm  used  to  his  "back-stage"  fright. 
I  know  he  never  feels  he  has  given 
himself  sufficient  time.  "When  you  get 
out  on  the  stage."  I  tell  him,  "you'll 
remember." 

The  minute  he's  on  his  fright  is  over 
and  he's  in  complete  control  of  the 
whole  show.  He  remembers  his  own 
lines  and  makes  few  fluffs — and  he 
remembers  what  everyone  else  should 
say  and  do. 

It's  amazing  to  me  how  well  every- 
one does  the  show,  with  so  little  prep- 
aration.   It's  where  talent  tells. 

Not  the  least  talented,  I  might  add, 
is  Sid  Stone,  who  puts  across  the  best 
commercial  in  the  business. 

Milton's  a  pushover  for  performers 
who  are  getting  a  rough  deal.  He  has 
been  known  to  give  freely  of  material, 
even  some  of  his  best,  so  they  can  land 
a  job. 

HE  SPENDS  freely.  Never  taking  a 
drink  himself,  the  people  around  him 
are  apt  to  become  teetotalers.  He's  a 
chain  smoker  of  cigars  and  he  passes 
them  out  constantly. 

He  craves  company,  and  can't  seem  to 
enjoy  his  food  unless  he  has  eight  or  ten 
people  at  the  table  with  him.  He's  tire- 
less himself  and  when  he  asks  a  crowd 
to  dinner  after  rehearsal  he  can't  seem 
to  understand  why  they're  a  little  weary 
of  it  all.  after  a  day  of  his  driving 
energy. 

Seeing  a  show  relaxes  him,  when  he 
can  take  the  time.  He's  a  great  audi- 
ence for  actors.  He  applauds,  he 
laughs,  and  even  whistles.  Above  all, 
he  pays  the  actors  the  compliment  of 
giving  them  his  full  attention,  and  he'll 
go  miles  out  of  his  way  when  he  can  to 
see  an  act  or  an  actor  that  interests  him. 

He  himself  plays  to  home  people — the 
audience  who  watches  from  homes 
wherever  television  reaches,  from  the 
east  coast  cities  to  Chicago.  When  the 
great  coaxial  cables  and  the  relay  sta- 
tions go  all  across  the  country,  he'll  still 
be  thinking  of  the  home  audiences, 
rather  than  the  Broadway  minority.  He 
values  their  opinions  too — but  he  values 
most  the  huge  fan  mail  he's  drawing, 
from  as  many  men  as  from  women,  and 
from  youngsters  who  were  born  after 
vaudeville's  decline  and  have  dis- 
covered it  for  themselves  on  the  Milton 
Berle  Texaco  Star  Theater. 

Mr.  Winchell,  you  are  Mr.  Right.  He 
is  Mr.  Television. 


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109 


Coast  to  Coast  in  Television 


Mash  notes  addressed  to  "Vivian,  the 
cute  little  blonde  on  Americana,"  are 
an  every-day  occurrence  at  NBC's  mail 
room.  Vivian  Ferracci  gets  dozens  and 
dozens  of  them  weekly — and  they  all 
say   "You're  beautiful,   but  smart!" 

She  is.  In  fact,  she's  so  smart  that  the 
studio  is  planning  to  build  another  show 
around  Vivian  exclusively.  Right  now, 
she's  the  only  regular  member  of  the 
student  panel  of  the  Americana  quiz, 
and  she  has  a  year's  contract.  She  won 
it  after  a  couple  of  guest  appearances. 
Her  quick  answers,  her  quiet  but  poised 
manner,  and  her  pretty  face  clinched  it. 

Vivian  is  seventeen,  a  graduate  of 
St.  Barnabas  High  School  in  the  Bronx, 
New  York,  and  a  student  now  at  Ford- 
ham  University,  where  she  hopes  to  go 
on  to  a  law  course.  She  dreams  of  the 
Halls  of  Congress — but  present  indica- 
tions would  point  to  the  sound  stages  of 
Hollywood.  She's  had  bids  from  a  num- 
ber of  them.  And  of  course  we  pay  our 
movie  stars  better  than  our  lawmakers! 

*  *  * 

Every  Thursday  evening,  at  10:30 
EST,  Quizzing  the  News,  produced  by 
Robert  Brenner,  checks  you  on  your 
current-happenings  I.Q.  It's  all  done  by 
way  of  New  York's  ABC  television  net- 
work from  the  Atlantic  coast  to  St. 
Louis  over  the  wonder  cable  that's 
called  coaxial. 

It's  a  new  type  of  TV  program  that 
combines  education  plus  entertainment. 
You  sit  in  your  comfy  living  room  and 
match  wits  with  three  experts — a  panel 
which  has  included  folks  like  Merle 
Miller,  Vinton  Freedley,  Al  Capp,  H. 
Allen  Smith,  Sigmund  Romberg,  Nancy 
Craig  and  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Frank  Kingdon. 

Allen  Prescott,  quizmaster,  intro- 
duces the  show  and  asks  the  questions, 
and  a  cartoonist  draws  the  clues  to  the 
answers.  If  the  first  clue  is  ineffective, 
another  cartoon  is  drawn.  You,  and  the 
experts,  see  all  these  clues.  The  third* 
clue  is  the  last — by  which  time  the  can- 
didates— and  the  viewers  at  home — 
should  be  in  scoring  position. 

There's  an  extra  incentive  for  home 
viewers,  too.  Each  week  a  "Disguised 
Man  of  the  Week"  is  shown.  It's  a  pic- 
ture of  some  important  man  or  woman 
in  the  news,  disguised  enough  to  make 
the  person  somewhat  difficult  to  iden- 
tify. A  verbal  clue  is  given,  and  a  little 
of  the  disguise  is  removed  toward  the 
end  of  the  program,  just  as  a  teaser  for 
you.  To  enter  the  contest,  the  viewer 
must  identify  that  person  and  in  addi- 
tion must  clip  out  a  picture  of  some 
other  person  currently  in  the  news,  dis- 
guise him  in  an  interesting  and  original 
way,  and  send  in  both  parts  of  his  entry. 

The  program  prizes  are  watches — 
presumably  so  you  can  take  time  out 
to  read  your  newspapers  and  news 
magazines  thoroughly — and  lighters. 
But  the  big  prize,  which  goes  to  the 
winning  viewer,  is  a  great  big  refrig- 
erator! 

If  you're  expecting  to  be  televised, 
don't  wear  white,  advises  George  Stoet- 
zel,  CBS-TV  lighting  consultant.  White, 
he  says,  throws  a  black  halo  around  the 
wearer.  As  a  background  it's  bad,  be- 
cause it  makes  faces  look  dark.  That's 
because  it  kicks  back  into  the  lens,  in- 
fluencing the  exposure  and  darkening 
the  face. 

Color,  says  Mr.  Stoetzel,  is  the  thing. 

"    It  gives  more  definition  and  separation. 

^    Breaks   up   a   continuous   flat   expanse, 
gives  depth. 

no 


(Continued  from  page  53) 

^  *  *i' 

Out  of  Hollywood  comes  a  new  one- 
hour  variety,  audience  participation 
and  giveaway  telecast,  originating  at 
station  KLAC-TV.  M.C.  and  singmg 
star  of  the  show  is  Benay  Venuta,  musi- 
cal comedy  and  movie  star.  Title  of  the 
show  is  Punch  with  Judy— and  the  pace 
promises  to  be  fast  and  punch-y. 

The  last  time  I  saw  Benay  on  a  stage 
she  was  singing  and  clowning  her  way 
around  the  world  as  "Nellie  Bly"— and 
though  the  show  didn't  last  too  long  the 
customers  remembered  Miss  Venuta  as 
a  girl  who  has  a  way  with  a  song.  She 
still  has. 

The  coaxial  cable  to  the  far  west 
won't  be  a  reality  for  many  months  to 
come,  but  television  is  booming  there 
locally.  That  pioneer  in  TV,  the  Don 
Lee  Station  in  Hollywood,  has  already 
televised  about  9,000  hours  since  its 
start  in  1931.  They  started  way  back 
then  with  as  little  as  fifteen  minutes  a 
day  of  TV.  Now  the  1949  schedule  av- 
erages 33  V2  hours  a  week,  exclusive  of 
such  special  events  as  the  Rose  Bowl 
Parade  and  other  one-time  telecasts. 

Sunday  nights  at  Don  Lee  are  de- 
voted to  film.  That  stand-by  of  TV,  the 
Western  feature,  leads  the  procession. 
Kinescopes  of  DuMont's  Alan  Dale 
Show  and  the  Original  Amateur  Hour 
give  the  west  a  sample  of  what  goes  on 
in  eastern  TV. 

The  wrestling  matches  are  televised 
from  the  American  Legion  Stadium  in 
Hollywood  on  Monday  nights.  Ditto 
the  boxing  matches  on  Friday  nights. 
The  Don  Lee  Music  Hall  goes  on  TV 
every  Tuesday  at  8:30  P.M.  Guest  stars 
on  this  program  have  included  person- 
alities like  Abe  Burrows,  Helen  For- 
rest, Lina  Romay,  Larry  Adler  and 
Helen  O'Connell. 

Ballet  Vignettes  is  an  original  ballet 
created  solely  for  television,  presented 
by  Semon  Semonoff,  formerly  of  the 
Ballet  Russe  de  Monte  Carlo,  every 
Wednesday  night.  Sets  are  specially  de- 
signed by  Harold  Helvenston. 

Film  is  fiown  from  the  east  daily  for 
a  nightly  Telenews  program,  a  complete 
coverage  of  the  highlights  of  world 
news,  very  similar  to  movie  newsreels. 

Two  programs  for  children  carry  on 
Monday  through  Friday,  The  Adven- 
tures of  Mr.  Do-Good,  and  Sleepy  Joe. 


Sleepy  features  Jimmy  Scribner,  the 
man  with  twenty-two  voices.  He  tells 
stories — mostly  Uncle  Remus  tales — to 
his  7-year-old  daughter  Gail.  Mr.  Do- 
Good  dramatizes  many  of  the  old  stories 
to  delight  little  listeners,  such  as  the 
fairy  tales  of  Cinderella  and  Jack  and 
the  Beanstalk. 

An  unusual  program  to  show-case 
new  ideas  and  talent  is  called  the  Don 
Lee  Workshop.  A  different  type  of 
show  is  presented  each  week  and  view- 
ers are  asked  to  write  candid  opinions — 
which  seems  like  a  good  way  to  get  a 
cross-section  of  what  interests  the  TV 

audience. 

*  *         * 

Vaudeville  and  variety  programs 
have  moved  into  the  first  place  in  audi- 
ence preference,  according  to  a  tele- 
vision survey  made  recently  by  Geyer, 
Newell  &  Ganger  advertising  agency. 
But  sports  remain  very  strong  in  second 

place. 

*  *  * 

"A  university  has  a  duty,  not  only  to 
its  students,  but  to  a  wider  public  in  the  m 
United  States,"  said  Dr.  Isaiah  Bow-  fl 
man,  president  of  Johns  Hopkins,  com-  W 
menting  on  the  CBS-TV  "Johns 
Hopkins  Science  Review,"  weekly 
broadcast  over  the  network  from  Bal- 
timore. "Television  has  opened  to  us 
another  means  of  bringing  educational 
values  into  the  home  in  a  dramatic  vis- 
ual form.  It  provides  educational  in- 
struction with  the  opportunity  to 
expand  its  programs  of  general  educa- 
tion to  include  all  persons  of  all  ages 
who  wish  to  keep  up  with  the  rapid 
developments  in  today's  world." 

*  *         * 

More  persons  witnessed  the  inaugural 
ceremony  of  President  Truman  in  1949, 
because  of  television,  than  have  been 
present  to  see  all  of  the  inaugurations 
of  the  preceding  thirty-one  presidents. 
That's  the  way  Carleton  D.  Smith,  di- 
rector of  NBC-TV  operations  put  it  in 

a  recent  talk. 

*  +         * 

And  says  the  New  York  Daily  News: 
"There  are  now  being  advertised  such 
items  as  'television  ice-box  snacks'  (to 
grab  during  shows) ;  'lightweight  video 
chairs'  (that  can  be  moved  around  the 
set  without  getting  a  rupture)  and,  so 
help  us  Howdy  Doody,  'television  j 
lounging  pajamas.'  " 


watch  for  iti  •  ,  • 


^^medals  for 


HOLLYWOOD 


stars^ 


Ralph  Stanb's  on-the-scene  newsreel  of 
the  famous  Photoplay  Gold  Medal  Award 
Dinner  featuring  the  winners: 


Ingrid   Bergman  Bing   Crosby 

Bob  Hope      Esther  Williams      June  Allyson      Jennifer  Jones      Alan  Ladd 

Rita  Hayworth       Gregory  Peck      Humphrey  Bogart 

and  other  screen  celebrities 

A  Columbia  Picture  Short  Coming  This  Month  To  Your  Local  Theater 

don't  miss  itt 


m 


(and  which  has  the  $15  beauty  shop  wove?  See  answer  below) 


^ 


Compare  Toni  with  any  other  permanent  —  any  home  w^ave,  any  beauty 
shop  wave—  and  you  11  find  there^s  no  finer  wuve  at  any  price/ 


Now's  the  perfect  time  to  give  yourself  a 
Toni  — before  the  rainy  spring  weather 
starts !  No  more  strugghng  then  with  hmp, 
straight,  rainy-day  hair.  Rain  or  shine, 
vour  Toni  wave  is  soft  and  curly,  beauti- 
fully natural-looking!  But  before  trying 
Toni  you'd  like  to  know: 

Will  TONI  work  on  my  hair? 

Of  course.  Toni  waves  any  kind  of  hair 
that  will  take  a  permanent,  including 
gray,  dyed,  bleached  or  baby-fine  hair. 

Is  it  easy  to  do? 

Amazingly  easy!  If  you  can  roll  your  hair 
on  curlers,  you  can  give  yourself  a  Toni. 
It's  so  surprisingly  simple  that  each  month 
more  than  two  million  women  use  Toni. 

Why  do  most  women  prefer  to  use  TONI? 

Because  the  Toni  Waving  Lotion  is  not  a 
harsh,  hurry-up  salon-type  solution. 


Instead  it's  a  mild  creme  lotion  —  made 
especially  for  home  use.  So  gentle  it 
just  coaxes  your  hair  into  soft  waves  and 
curls.  That's  why  your  Toni  wave  looks 
more  natural,  even  on  the  very  first  day. 

Will  my  TONI  'wave  be  loose  or  tight? 

With  Toni  you  can  have  as  much  curl  as 
you  like,  from  a  loose  wave  to  a  halo  of 
soft  ringlets.  Just  follow  directions. 

How  long  will  my  TONI  last? 

It's  guaranteed  to  last  as  long  as  a  $15 
.beauty  shop  wave. ..or  your  money  back. 

How  much  will  I  save  with  TONI? 

The  Toni  Kit  with  plastic  curlers  costs 
only  $2.  You  can  use  the  plastic  curlers 
again  and  again.  So  for  your  second  Toni 
wave  all  you  need  is  the  Toni  Refill  Kit. 
It  costs  just  $1  .  .  .  yet  there  is  no  finer 
wave  at  any  price. 


The  wave  that  gives  that  natural  loo^-^*"^ 


Which  twin  has  the  TONI? 

The  blond  feather-cut  curls  belong  to 
Marcelle  and  Jeanne  Pastoret  of  Long 
Island,  N.  Y.  Jeanne,  on  the  left,  has  the 
Toni.  She  says :  'T've  never  liked  a  per- 
manent so  much  before.  My  Toni  curls 
feel  so  soft  and  natural."  And  Marcelle 
savs  :  "From  now  on  we'll  both  have  Toni 
waves !" 


mmt 


One  of  America's  most  popular  singers  .  .  .  star 
for  many  years  of  the  Metropolitan  Opera, 
motion  pictures,  concert,  radio  and  recordings. 


'mid^ 


'mf 


She  has  scored  brilliant  successes  with  the 
New  York  City  Opera  Company,  at  Covent 
Garden  in  London,  and  in  concert. 


The  famous  mezzo-soprano  and  opera's  brilliant,  new  coloratura  agree... 


In  a  recent  test  of  hundreds  of 

people  who  smoked  only 

Camels  for  30  days,  noted  throat 

specialists,  making  weekly 

examinations,  reported 

NOT  ONE  SINGLE 
CASE  OF  THROAT 

IRRITATION 

due  to  smoking 

CAMELS! 

Millions  of  people  who  have 
smoked  Camels  for  years  already 
know  about  Camel's  cool,  ccol 
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T  for  Throat  — your  proving 
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for  smoking  enjoyment). 

Try  Camels  and  test  thtm  as  you 
smoke  thtm  If,  at  an\  t  mc  lou 
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age  With  the  unused  Caraeis  and 
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AGREE,  A/IISS 
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TEST,  ITS  BEEN 
CAMELS  WITH  ME 


%«. 


*f|  ■'^l^K, 


According  to  a  Nationwide  survey: 

MORE   DOCTORS   SMOKE   CAMELS 
THAN   ANY   OTHER  CIGARETTE 

Doctors  smoke  for  pleasure,  too!  And  when  three  leading 

independent  research  organizations  asked   113,597  doctors  what 

cigarette  they  smoked,  the  brand  named  most  was  Camel! 


-AjvjD  television 


MIRRa 


MAY  .  25 1 


Harriot  and  Ozzie  Nelson 
and  sons 


Watch  your  Skin  Grow  Lovelier  with 
your  First  Cake  of  Camay! 


Charm  and  good  looks,  dates  and  romance, 
can  begin  with  a  lovely  skin!  And  your  skin  can  be 
softer,  lovelier,  with  your  vtry'  first  cake  of  Camay. 
Give  up  careless  cleansing— go  on  the  Camay 

Mild-Soap  Diet.  Doctors  tested  mild  Camay  care 
on  scores  of  women— found  most  complexions  grew 

softer  and  smoother  with  just  one  cake  of  Camay! 
Follow  directions  on  the  wrapper  for  a  lovelier  skin! 


MRS.  BENJAMIN  MOATS,  Jr. 
the  former  Marjorie  Lehmann  of  Hoffertiill,  N.  H. 
bridal  portrait  painted  ^'iHS^fJfSO^V- 


i'% 


READ  ABOUT  A 

Marjorie  met  Ben  when  she 
was  at  Skidmore— he  called 
with  Dartmouth  friends.  It 
was  love  from  the  start!  She 
thanks  Camay;  "My  first  cake 
brought  a  lovelier  look!" 


c 


^A^gl 


^f•'- 


cot^'f 


o^ 


Camay 


Honeymooning  at  Sea  Island,  bride 
and  groom  rode  the  ocean  with- 
out a  tumble.  But  Ben's  "over- 
board" for  Marjorie's  complex- 
ion. Shell  stay  on  the  Camay 
Mild-Soap  Diet! 


\ 


THE  SOAP  OF  BEAUTIFUL  WOMEN 


*'Osnfists  »(j  ik  IPANA  watj  m^  {" 

Junior  model  Mary  Mohr  shows  how  if  can  woric  for  you,  too 


A  dream  dances . . .  21-year-old  model  Mary  Mohr  of  Jersey  City, 
clicks  at  a  college  prom.  This  popular  gal  brightens  many  a  magazine 
page  with  a  smile  her  beaux  find  irresistible! 

"I  follow  the  Ipana  way  to  healthier  gums  and  brighter  teeth  . . . 
because  dentists  say  it  works!"  says  Mary.  Here's  how  her  profession- 
ally approved  Ipana  dental  care  can  work  for  you,  too  . . . 


Tf" 


YES,  8  OUT  OF  10  DENTISTS  SAY: 


"See?  The  Ipana  way  is  simple  as  1,  2,"  says  Mary: 

1.  Between  regular  visits  to  your  dentist,  brush  all  tooth 
surfaces  with  Ipana  at  least  twice  a  day. 

2.  Then  massage  gums  the  way  your  dentist  advises  — to 
stimulate  gum  circulation.  (Ipana's  unique  formula 
actually  helps  stimulate  your  gums.  You  can  feel  the 
invigorating  tingle ! ) 

Try  this  for  healthier  gums,  brighter  teeth,  an  Ipana  smile. 
Ipana  refreshes  your  mouth  and  breath,  too.  Ask  your 
dentist  about  Ipana  and  massage.  A  good  dentifrice  like 
a  good  dentist  is  never  a  luxury! 


Products  of  Bristol-Myers 


^In  thousands  of  recent  reports  from  all  over  the  country. 


P,S.  For  correct  brushing,  use  the  DOUBLE  DUTY  Tooth  Brush  with  the  twist  in  the  handle.  1000  dentists  helped  design  it ! 


Mhk  shoes! 


R  '^KfftntSl  \  ^^^^  <   ECONOMY  SIZE 

COLGATE  DENTAL  CREAM 
«fter  iou  eat  and  before  every  dare 


MAY.  1949 


VOL.  31,  NO.  6 


MfM  WiWfh  "^^^  TElEVISrOlV 

MIRROR 


KEYSTONE 


PEOPLE  ON  THE  A  R 


Jane  Morgan 18 

"Let's  Have  the  Nelsons" by  Barbara  Eiler  Nelson  24 

"My  Husband  Is  Ideal" by  Mrs.  Jack  Smith  26 

That's  My  Boy! by  E.  L.  "Kit"  Carson  28 

Come  and  Visit  Nancy  Craig by  Llewellyn  Miller  30 

The  Brighter  Day — in  Living  Portraits 34 

Make  a  Grand  Slam ! by  Irene  Beasley  38 

That  Day  Girl by  Bob  Hope  54 

That  Hope  Fellow by  Doris  Day  54 

"I  Can't  Even  Get  a  Haircut" — Herb  Shriner by  Martin  Cohen  56 

"The  Crisis  We  Learned  To  Live  With" by  Doris  MeWhirt  Zerbe  60 

Information    Booth 3 

What's  New  From  Coast  to  Coast by  Dale  Banks  10 

Facing  the  Music by  Joe  Martin  14 

What  Makes  You  Tick? by  John  McCaffery  17 

Collector's  Corner by  Elliot  Lawrence  19 

Look  At  the  Records by  Joe  Martin  20 

The  Judy  Canova  Show — in  color 58 

Inside  Radio 68 

Quiz    Catalogue , 71 

Scent  of  Spring by  Mary  Jane  Fulton  4 

Traveler  of  The  Month by  Tommy  Bartlett  22 

Between  the  Bookends by  Ted  Malone  42 

When  a   Girl  Marries by   Joan   Davis  44 

So  Sweet ! by  Kate  Smith  62 

Family  Counselor — Going  to  College? by  Terry  Burton  110 

QQQQIQEXa 

Winner   Take   All 46 

Hollywood's   Looking   At — 48 

Jerry  Mahoney's  Private  Album 49 

Howdy  Doody's  Boss 50 

On   Your   Screen 51 

Coast  to  Coast  in  Television 52 

WMGM:  Have  You  a  Problem? 6 

KDKA :    Singing   Strings 8 

WIBG:  They  Shall  Have  Music 12 

WBEN:   Historian  of  the  Air 16 


RADIO  MIRROR  READER  BONUS 


What's  Real  for  You — a  Ma  Perkins  Novelette by  Helen  Christy  Harris    64 

ON   THE   COVER:   The  Nelson  Family— Ozzie,  Harriet,  Ricky,   and   David; 
color  portraits  by  Hymie  Fink,  Sterling  Smith  and  Betty  Rice 

Editorial  Director  Editor  Art  Director 

FRED  K.  SAMMI8  DOBIS  McFEBBAN  JACK  ZA80BIN 

Manatine  Editor  Associate  Art  Director 

EVELYN  1.  FIOBE  FRANCES  MALY 

Ti>lpvi<tion  Editorial  Assistant  Research 

FEANCES  KISH  JOAN  POLLOCK  TEBC  GOTO 

Chicago  Office:  Editor,  HELEN  CAMBBLA  BOLSTAD 
Hollywood  Office:  Editor,   ANN  DAGGETT  Managing  Editor,    FBANCES  MOKEIN 

Staff  Photographers,  HYMIE  FINK.  STEELING  SMITH     Assistant.  BETTY  JO  BICE 


RADIO  AND  TELEVISION  MIRROR,  P"Wi^hed  monO,ly  by  MACFAM^  P^^-fo^F^Tf •N°?:-Hon%oSdffee'?erTy 
General  Business,  Editorial  and  Aa^Jf^t^'J^S  Offices,  20^5  gist  42nd  bt.,  "J^  ^°™  Harold  Wise,  Etecutive  Vice 
Hills  Office:   321  S.  Beverly  Dnve    Beverly  H,lls    CaWom^a^  O^  J^  bmer,^esm^   .^  secretaiy  and  Treasurer; 

Sl^tS=unSe%"e^l^ar?fs.^.^^1?e^1?o'nn^^ntfof'=^^^^^^^ 

permission.  (Member  of  Macfadden  Women's  Group)  _   ^.   „  ., 

Mhamertcana  de  Propledad  Literaria  y  Artistic*.  Title  trademark  registered  in  l).  S.  Patent  Office. 
*^  Printed  in  U.  S.  A.  by  Art  Color  Printing  Co.,  Dunelleu,  N.  J. 


INFORMATION 
BOOTH 


FOR  YOUR  INFORMATION— If  there's 
something  you  want  to  know  about 
radio,  write  to  Information  Booth, 
Radio  Mirror,  205  E.  42nd  St.,  N.  Y.  We'll 
answer  if  we  can  either  in  Information 
Booth  or  by  mail — but  be  sure  to  sign 
full  nanxe  and  address,  and  attach  this 
box  to  your  letter. 


KEN  CARSON 

Dear  Editor: 

Please  give  me 
the  name  of  the 
singer  on  the  Lustre 
Cream  Shampoo 
commercial  on  the 
Day  in  the  Life  of 
Dennis  Day  pro- 
gram. I'd  also  like 
to  know  what  he 
looks   like. 

Miss   A.    P. 
Culpepper,  Va. 


Ken  Carson 


The  singer  is  Ken  Carson,  who  was  for- 
merly  on    NBC's   Sumrnerfield    Bandstand. 

NO   RELATION 


Dear  Editor: 

I  have  heard  that 
Peggy  Lee  is  the 
sister  of  Bing  Cros- 
by's wife,  Dixie 
Lee.  Is  that  true? 
Mrs.  J.  K. 
BuflFalo,   N.   Y. 

No.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  Peggy  Lee 
is  not  her  given 
name — it's  really 
Norma  Egstrom. 


Peggy  Lee 


Arthur  Q.  Bryan 


OLD  TIMERS 

Dear  Editor: 

Could  you  tell  me 
who  plays  the  parts 
of  Wallace  Wimple, 
Mr.  Old  Timer, 
Mayor  La  Trivia, 
and  Doc  Gamble  on 
the  Fibber  McGee 
and  Molly  pro- 
gram? They've  been 
on  that  program  so 
long  that  they  seem 
like  old  friends  to 
me. 

Mrs.  T.  K. 
Chicago,  III. 

Wallace  Wimple  and  Mr.  Old  Timer  are 
played  by  Bill  Thompson  who,  except  for 
a  two-year  hitch  in  the  navy  during  the 
war,  has  been  on  the  program  twelve  years. 
He  has  also  played  Nick  Depopulus  and 
Horatio  K.  Boomer.  Mayor  La  Trivia  is 
played  by  Gale  Gordon,  who  has  been  with 
the  show  for  eight  years.  Arthur  Q.  Bryan, 
whose  picture  you  see  here  and  who  plays 
Doc  Gamble,  joined  the  cast  seven  years 
ago. 

FAMOUS   UNCLE 

Dear  Editor: 

I  have  often  wondered  if  James  Meighan, 
the  actor  who  plays  the  part  of  Larry  Noble 
in  Backstage  Wife  and  Gary  Donovan  in 
Just  Plain  Bill,  is  related  to  the  late 
Thomas  Meighan  of  the  silent  screen? 

Miss  I.  K. 
Detroit,  Michigan 

Thomas  Meighan  was  James  Meighan's 
uncle. 


Stop  looking  on  while  others  go  places, 
Honey.  Join  the  gang  and  be  welcome— 
but  first  remember  this:  never  trust  your 
charm  to  anything  but  dependable  Mum! 


This  unique  cream  deodorant  makes  you 
sure  of  charm.  Contains  no  water  to  dry 
out  or  decrease  its  efficiency.  Be  a  safety- 
first  girl— get  Mum  today! 


MUlfl-^ajU.  ^l  QhAMU  ...Mum  checks  per- 
«         U  spiration  odor  for  the  whole  day  or 
evening.  Protects  against  risk  of  future  odor  after 
your  bath  washes  away  past  perspiration. 


,i:c.<.>3.j. 


U         "  irritating  ini 
form  scratch 

to  rot  or  discolor  fine  fabrics.  Quick,  pleasant  to 
use.  Economical,  too  — no  shrinkage,  no  waste. 

Product  of  Bristol-Mytn 
For  sanitary  napkins— Mum  is  gentle,  safe,  dependable . . .  ideal  for  this  important  use,  too. 


Gentle  Mum  contains  no  harsh  or 
U         ^  irritating  ingredients.  Doesn't  dry  out  in  the  jar  to 
form  scratchy  crystals.  Mum  is  harmless  to  skin. 


Joan  Alexander  matches 
a  floral  scent  to  her 
new  Walter  Florell  bon- 
net— and  Spring  is  here! 


By 

MARY 
JANE 
FULTON 


H' 


[MM,  you  smell  nice!"  This  is  the  compli- 
ment Joan  Alexander,  who  appears  regu- 
larly on  NBC's  The  Big  Story,  often  hears 
from  her  husband.  Like  most  men,  he  doesn't 
beat  around  the  bush  with  fancy  words  when  he 
has  something  nice  to  say  to  his  wife.  And,  like 
most  wives,  Joan  likes  this  modern  male  ap- 
proach to  flattery. 

Being  a  surgeon,  Joan's  husband  breathes  in 
an  antiseptic  atmosphere  all  day  long.  So  he 
especially  appreciates  having  a  wife  to  come 
home  to  who  not  only  keeps  herself  looking  at- 
tractive, but  who  also  takes  the  trouble  to  add 
that  final  touch  of  glamor  to  her  toilette — ^per- 
fume. 

During  their  courting  days,  this  was  one  thing 
he  liked  about  her.  She  hasn't  forgotten  it.  So 
every  evening  before  he  comes  home  she  puts 
some  on.  Because  their  two-year-old  little  girl, 
Jane,  sees  Mommy  doing  it,  Joan  has  to  put  a 
little  toilet  water,  cologne,  or  sachet  on  her,  too, 
so  that  when  Daddy  lifts  her  in  his  arms  for  a 
great  big  hug  and  a  kiss,  he'll  notice  how  nice 
Jane  "smells."  Her  mother  touches  just  a  drop 
or  two  behind  her  daughter's  ears.  One  time 
little  Jane  tried  putting  it  on  herself,  when 
Mommy  wasn't  looking,  and  got  it  in  her  ears! 
That's  what  she  thought  Joan  did. 

Over  a  period  of  time,  Joan  has  built  up  a 
scent  wardrobe  of  colognes,  toilet  waters,  per- 
fumes, sachet  powders,  and  of  course  she  always 
has  at  least  one  favorite  fragrance  in  bath  crys- 
tals and  bath  powder.  The  perfumes  are  mostly 
in  small  bottles,  because  she  likes  having  a 
fragrance  for  every  mood,  one  to  match  the 
make-believe  flowers  on  her  hat,  or  the  artificial 


OJWOQ 


or  real  corsage  she's  wearing.  She's  fond  of 
bouquet  fragrances,  too,  because  they're  a  mix- 
ture of  many  fiowers,  and  are  neither  too  heavy 
nor  too  sweet,  but  just  right  for  any  time  of  the 
day,  any  outfit,  and  any  mood.  However,  when 
she  dresses  in  tweeds  or  sports  costumes  (she's 
a  great  outdoors  enthusiast),  she  applies  either 
an  "outdoorsy"  scent,  or  borrows  her  husband's 
clean-smelling  toilet  water  which  he  uses  after 
shaving.  If  he's  wondered  who's  been  swiping  it, 
now  he  knows! 

You  can  be  sure  that  if  you  use  too  much 
fragrance,  your  best  beau  will  tell  you.  If  too 
little,  he'll  not  notice  it  at  all,  and  that's  proof 
that  you've  been  wasteful  with  it.  By  trying 
different  ones,  you'll  soon  learn  the  scents  he 
likes  best  on  you,  and  the  ones  he  doesn't. 

Behind  your  ears,  at  the  nape  of  your  neck, 
and  on  your  wrists  are  the  usual  places  for 
applying  fragrance.  But  have  you  ever  tried 
Joan's  trick  of  spraying  a  dash  of  perfume, 
toilet  water  or  cologne  inside  your  gloves,  purse, 
or  on  the  veil  or  flowers  on  your  hat?  You 
can  also  saturate  a  clean  piece  of  absorbent  cot- 
ton with  toilet  water  and  pin  it  inside  your  bras- 
siere, sprinkle  a  little  toilet  water  or  cologne 
in  the  final  rinse  water  after  you've  shampooed 
your  hair,  tuck  sachet  envelopes  or  petals  in 
among  your  lingerie,  and  place  some  between 
sheets,  pillow  slips,  and  towels  in  your  linen 
closet.  And  did  you  know  that  the  sprinkling 
of  fragrant  bath  crystals  in  your  bureau  drawers, 
and  fragrant  soap,  tucked  in  them,  will  also 
scent  your  underwear  and  linen  nicely? 

Spring  flowers  are  blooming,  and  you  want 
to  "smell  pretty"  too! 


RADIO      MIRROR      for     BETTER      LIVING 


CCUCt  do  iJkiir 


BUT  he  was  doing  it — and  doing 
it  deliberately— breaking  the 
biggest  date  of  the  year  on  very 
short  notice!  This  was  the  party 
she  had  dreamed  about  ...  for 
which  she  had  bought  a  lovely 
new  evening  dress  and  adorable 
new  shoes. 

Now  he  was  calling  the  whole 
thing  off  with  excuses  that,  to 
say  the  least,  sounded  phony. 

Looking  back  at  their  last  date 
she  recalled  that  he  had  acted 
strangely  indifferent.  What  had 
she  said  to  merit  such  treatment 
then?  What  had  she  done  to  de- 
serve it  now?  The  more  she 
searched  for  an  explanation  the 
further  she  got  from  the  truth*. 


Are  You  Sure? 

Unpleasant  breath   (halitosis*) 
is  the  offense  unpardonable 
...  a  hurdle  that  is  hard 
for  romance  to  clear.  The 
insidious  thing  about  it 
is  that  you,  yourself, 
may  not  realize  when 
you  have  it.  More- 
over, it  may  be 


present  one  day  and  absent  the 
next. 

So  why  take  your  breath  for 
granted— ewr.''  Why  risk  putting 
yourself  in  a  bad  light  when  Lis- 
terine  Antiseptic  is  such  a  de- 
lightful, extra-careful  precaution 
against  offending? 

Lasting  Protection. 

You  simply  rinse  the  mouth  with 
Listerine  Antiseptic  and,  lo,  your 
breath  becomes  fresher,  sweeter, 
less  likely  to  offend.  Not  for  sec- 
onds. Not  for  minutes.  But  for 
hours,  usually. 

If  you  want  to  be  at  your  best, 
don't  rely  on  makeshifts.  Pur 
your  trust  in  Listerine  Antiseptic 
— the  extra-careful,  lasting  pre- 
caution. Use  it  night  and  morn- 
ing and  before  every  date  where 
you  want  to  be  at  your  best.  ^ 

Most  cases  of  simple  bad 
breath  yield  readily  to  Listerine 
Antiseptic;  cases  of  systemic 
origin  are  for  your  doctor  to  treat. 

Lambert  Pharmacal  Company 
St.  Louis,  Missouri 


Before  any  date 

LISTERINE  ANTISEPTIC 

to  help  you  be  at  your  best 


P.S. 


Have  you  tried  the  new  Listerine  Tooth  Paste,  the  Minty  3-way  Prescription  for  your  Teeth.' 


Mrs.  Anthony,   David  and  John  J.    His   institute  lobbied    for    outlawing    of   breach    of   promise   suits, 
revision  of  the  alimony  law,  compulsory  pre-marital  health  tests,  a  3-day  wait  after  license  securance. 


4 


HAVE  YOU  A 


John  J.  Anthony,  who  began  his  painting  as  the  result  of  a  dare,  now 
turns  out  acceptable  abstractions.    He  also  has  published  six  books. 


JOHN  J.  ANTHONY'S  back  and  WMGM's 
got  him.  After  eighteen  years  of  mar- 
ried life,  the  man  who  has  made  a 
career  of  helping  people  solve  their  do- 
mestic difficulties  has  a  very  creditable 
domestic  entourage  himself:  attractive 
wife  Etille  and  nine-year-old  son  David. 

When  Mrs.  Anthony  has  a  problem,  to 
whom  does  she  turn?  Why,  to  Mr. 
Anthony,  of  course.  "But  she  sometimes 
thinks  I'm  too  close  to  her  problem,  and  so 
she  goes  elsewhere.  She  usually  finds  out 
I  was  right  about  the  whole  thing." 

Etille,  a  vivacious  brunette  from  Mon- 
treal, was  a  modern  dancer  and  shared  the 
stage  with  Charles  Weidman,  Doris 
Humphrey,  Martha  Graham,  and  others  of 
that  stature.  She  gave  up  her  dancing 
when  she  married  and  has  no  regrets. 

"I  guess  if  John  had  been  a  businessman 
or  something  that  didn't  interest  me,  I 
might  have  been  sorry,  but  his  work  is  so 
stimulating  and  so  satisfying  that  I  have 
never  felt  I  missed  anything  by  deciding  to 
be  a  housewife,"  she  said.  "And  then,"  Mr. 
Anthony's  wife  points  out,  "John  has  so 
many   interests." 

First,  there  is  his  weekly  Monday  night 
(8  to  9  P.M.)  WMGM  session,  which  is  re- 
broadcast  over  WPEN,  Philadelphia,  the 
following  Sunday  night  (6  to  7  P.M.-) . 

As  head  of  the  Marital  Relations  Insti- 
tute, which  he  helped  found  almost  twen- 
ty-five years  ajgo,  he  keeps  abreast  of  the 
marital  laws,  always  mindful  that  the  ef- 
forts of  his  organization  brought  about  re- 
forms in  New  York  State  that  set  the 
pattern  for  many  of  the  State  legislatures. 

Mr.  Anthony  also  lectures,  writes  and 
paints.  Irritated  by  the  bother  of  cleaning 
his  palette,  he  invented  a  disposable  pal- 
ette, which  is  now  marketed. 

The  Anthonys  spend  their  weekdays  in 
a  Manhattan  apartment  overlooking  Wash- 
ington Square — they  want  David  to  have 
the  experience  of  walking  to  school.  But 
weekends  the  three  of  them  head  for  their 
home  in  suburban  Woodmere,  Long  Island. 


More  than  2  million  women  a  month  use  Toni 
. . .  the  wave  that  gives  that  natural  look! 


See  how  flattering  a  Toni  is  .  .  .  how  soft 
and  beautifully  natural  it  looks.  Because 
there's  no  frizzy  stage  with  a  Toni.  Even 
on  the  first  day  your  Toni  wave  looks 
naturally  curly  with  lovely  deep  waves 
and  soft  curls!  But  before  trying  Toni 
you'd  like  to  know: 

Will  TONI  work  on  my  hair? 

Of  course.  Toni  waves  any  kind  of  hair 
that  will  take  a  permanent,  including  gray, 
dyed,  bleached  or  baby-fine  hair. 

Will  my  TONI  wave  be  loose  or  tight? 

The  exclusive  directions  in  your  Toni  Kit 
give  you  exactly  the  wave  you  want  — 
from  loose,  casual  curls  to  a  halo  of  ador- 
able ringlets.  You're  sure  of  success  with 
easy-to-follow  Toni  directions  because 
they've  given  millions  of  perfect  perma- 


nents.  Actually,  more  women  use  Toni 
than  all  other  cold  waves  combined. 

Why  do  most  women  prefer  to  use  TONI  ? 

Because  the  Toni  Waving  Lotion  isn't 
harsh  like  hurry-up  salon  type  solutions. 
Toni  is  a  creme  cold  wave  made  especially 
for  home  use.  That's  why  Toni  leaves 
your  hair  in  such  wonderful  condition  — 
so  shiny  soft  and  natural -looking! 

How  long  will  my  TONI  last? 

Your  Toni  is  long-lasting  and  is  guar- 
anteed to  look  as  lovely  as  a  $15  beauty 
shop  wave  ...  or  your  money  back. 

How  much  will  I  save  ^th  TONI? 

The  Toni  Kit  with  re-usable  plastic 
curlers  cost  $2.  For  a  second  Toni  get 
the  Toni  Refill  Kit.  It  costs  just  $1  .  .  . 
yet  there's  no  finer  wave  at  any  price! 


The  v^ove  that  gives  that  „ot„ral  look  . .  •  Toni 


Which  twin  has  the  TONI? 

Talented,  teen-age  Kathlene  and  Helene 
Crescente  won  the  Beauty  Contest  for 
Twins  in  New  York  City.  Kathlene,  the 
twin  on  the  right,  has  the  Toni.  She  says: 
"I  never  knew  a  permanent  could  look 
so  natural."  And  Helene  says:  "Next 
time  it  will  be  Toni  for  two !" 


""^'<^S. 


' 


KDKA's  famed  "Singing  Strings"  ensemble.  The  show  has  been  aired  by  the  same  sponsor  since  1945. 


SINGING  STRINGS,  which  has  been  a  Wednesday  night  feature 
on  KDKA  in  the  7:30  spot  since  1945,  is  one  of  the  most  popu- 
lar radio  shows  in  Pittsburgh  and  has  been  frequently  praised 
by  listeners  for  its  network-like  quality. 

Marked  by  distinctive  and  uinque  orchestral  arrangements,  the 
program  presents  an  ensemble  of  string  instruments  and  a  clari- 
net. A  variety  of  types  of  music — popular,  light  classical  and 
selections  from  musical  comedies — is  highlighted. 

Pittsburgh's  popular  tenor,  Johnny  Kirby,  honored  this  year 
by  the  Junior  Chamber  of  Commerce  at  its  "Man  of  the  Year" 
banquet  for  his  achievements  in  the  world  of  music,  is  the  vocal 
star  of  the  show.  Johnny  has  been  active  with  the  Pittsburgh 
Playhouse  and  the  Civic  Opera,  is  a  young  man  who  should  go 
far  in  the  entertainment  world. 

Produced  by  Ed  Young,  the  program  is  under  the  direction  of 
Bernie  Armstrong,  who  heads  KDKA's  musical  department.  The 
string  ensemble  is  made  up  of  violinists  Clement  landiorio,  Wil- 
bert  Frisch,  Charles  Riley,  Louis  Longdon,  Francis  Kleyle  and 
Ruth  Behringer;  clarinetist  Charles  IClug;  cellists  James  Younger 
and  George  Wilkins;  harpist  Marion  Berger;  bass  viol  August 
Frisch  and  pianist  Russ  Merritt. 

Announcing  duties  are  in  the  capable  hands  of  Paul  Shannon, 
two-time  winner  of  the  H.  P.  Davis  Memorial  Announcers'  Award 
and  the  program  has  had  the  same  sponsor,  the  Duquesne  Light 
Company,  since  its  inception — a  good  record  for  a  fine  program. 


Music  Dept.  head  Bernie  Armstrong  (r.) 
goes  over  a  score  with  James  Younger. 


Johnny  Kirby,  singing  star  of  the  show. 


ANOTHER  SENSATION 
BY  THE  CREATORS  OF  SuSPaU^^® 


tO<UC/ 


w  V  w 

minimns 

THE  SMART  MINIMUM  IN  UNDIES 


As  brief  as  a  wink  ...  as  smooth 
as  a  suntan  .  .  .  that's  Blue  Swan's 
MINIKINS.  They're  smartly  styled 
in  SWANTONE,  an  amazing  new 
runproof  rayon  that  wears  longer 
and  washes  and  dries  in  a  jifFy. 
You'll  love  MINIKINS  in  each 
of  the  three  popular  styles  . .  . 
look  for  them  at  your  favorite 
store  ...  in  gay  colored 
cellophane  packages. 

A  iixe  for  atmosf  every  figure, 
Tearose,  pink,  whife,  blue,  black,  maize. 


UNDIES    •    SLIPS    •    GOWNS 
DIVISION    OF    McKAY    PRODUCTS    CORP.     •     350    Fifth    Avenue,    New    York    1,    N.   Y. 


IF     NOT    AT     YOUR    FAVORITE    ST  O  R  E  -  O  R  D  E  R     B  Y    MAIL-SEND     NO     MONEY. 


Blue       Swan      Mill*         •         350      Fifth      Avenue,       New      York      1,      N.     Y.     mcf-5-49 

Please  send  me  MINIKINS,  through  my  local  dealer  (order  by  letter  A,  B,  or  C),  at  79c  a  pair. 


STYLE 

COLOR 

DRESS  SIZES 

QUANTITY 

NAME 

ADDRESS 

CITY 

ZONE 

9/10 

n/12 

13/14 

15/16 

17/18 

■1  ■ 

■  ■■  1 

STATE 

Vivian  Ferrar,  of 
Americana  quiz:  pink 
doited  Swiss  blouse, 
pink  broadcloth   skirt. 


By 
DALE 

BANKS 


The  Grace  Line's  San- 
ta Rosa  was  the  setting 
for  a  recent  fashion 
show  in  which  NBC 
stars  modeled  Rojay's 
new  spring  blouses. 
Jane  Pickens,  svelte 
as  a  model  herself, 
was   the   commentator. 


FILMTOWN  is  getting  more  and  more  worried 
by  the  trend  which  .threatens  to  move  the  en- 
tertainment capital  from  Hollywood  back  to 
New  York  City.  The  movie  industry  made  Holly- 
wood, killed  vaudeville,  and  forced  Manhattan- 
minded  radio  barons  to  originate  their  shows  in 
the  west  coast  "reservoir  of  talent."  And  now  that 
the  movie  business  has  started  suffering  from  re- 
trenchment pains,  cinema  stars  and  supporting 
players  in  fairly  large  numbers  are  fleeing  Holly- 
wood for  employment  on  the  New  York  stage  or  in 
vaudeville  tours  across  the  country.  The  talent 
reservoir  is  getting  lower  and  television  may  well 
empty  the  dyke.  Video,  in  Hollywood,  must  re- 
main on  a  local  station  basis  for  another  two  years, 
at  least,  until  the  coaxial  cable  system  has  become 
transcontinental.  In  the  meantime.  New  York  is 
the  keystone  of  the  TV  network  extending  to 
St.  Louis.  New  York,  feeding  a  network  of  sta- 
tions, can  afford  to  pay  more  than  HoUyTVOod, 
which  can  offer  only  the  extremely  low  talent  fee 
paid  for  single  station  telecasts.  The  answer  is 
obvious.  The  stars  may  like  California's  climate, 
but  with  film  production  slowed  down,  they  will 
desert  for  the  east — vaudeville,  legitimate  theater 
and  video. 


10 


Kyle  MacDonnell 
(Girl  About  Town) : 
pale,  delicate  blouse, 
high-wrapped  rustling 
skirt,    flower    coronet. 


J  , 


^  More  about  trends  .  .  .  Contracts  for  radio  artists 

^eem  to  be  for  i^orter  terms,  rather  than  for  two 

and  three  yeais  as  heretofore.     Both  artists  and 

sponsors  feel  they  don't  want  to  be  tied  up  with 

exclusive  radio  contracts  now  that  TV  is  making 

such  rapid  strides. 

*  a  * 

Now  that  Ozzie  and  Harriet  can  tape-record  their 
show,  they  will  probably  introduce  the  bona  fide 
Nelson  offspring  in  the  roles  of  David  and  Ricky. 
Seems  that,  until  now,  the  Nelsons  were  afraid  the 
live  broadcasts  would  be  too  taxing  for  the 
children. 

Spyros  Skouras  has  denied  buying  the  ABC 
network  for  20th-century  Fox,  but  info  trickling 
through  from  Wall  Street  indicates  that  someone 
has  just  purchased  the  controlling  interest  in  the 
web  through  purchase  of  stock  on  the  open  market. 

:(:  3!t  :j: 

Sentimental  note.  Thanks  to  Vaughn  Monroe, 
Georgetown  University  is  richer  by  $5,000.  The 
University  has  reported  to  the  popular  band  mas- 
ter-singer that  shortly  after  he  heard  Monroe  sing 
the  Georgetown  alma  mater  song,  a  misty  eyed 
alumnus     sent     the      {Continued     on     page     13) 


Betty  Wragge  (Pepper  Young)  in  white 
scoop-necked  top,  beige  cotton  skirt. 
Right,  Dru  Avedon,  actress,  modeled 
banana-beige    skirt,    blouse,    tiny    hat. 


11 


Hundreds  of  music  lovers  gather  daily  at  The  Eagle  in  the  Grand    Court  to   hear  the   broadcasts   of   the   John  Wanamaker   Great 
Organ.     This  picture  was  taken   during   one  of  the  special   Lenten    Cantata  programs  which  also  featured  the  Wanamaker  Choir. 


12 


The  organ  is  in  truth  the  grandest, 
the  most  daring,  the  most  magnificent 
of  all  instruments  invented  by  human 
genius  — Honore  de  Balzac 

PHILADELPHIANS  believe  that  Balzac  never 
wrote  anything  truer  than  this,  and  all  because 
organs  and  organ  music  have  been  a  part  of 
the  John  Wanamaker  tradition  since  1876,  when  an 
old  Pennsylvania  freight  depot  became  the  Wana- 
maker store  in  Philadelphia.  John  Wanamaker  be- 
lieved that  music  should  be  a  part  of  daily  living 
and  working  as  well  as  a  form  of  relaxation  and 
amusement. 

Because  of  that,  a  member  of  the  Wanamaker 
staff  was  sent  to  St.  Louis  to  buy  the  Louisiana 
Purchase  Exposition  organ.  Rebuilt  in  the  Grand 
Court  of  the  Wanamaker  store,  it  was  heard  pub- 
licly for  the  first  time  in  the  Quaker  City  on 
June  22,  1911. 

Since  then  the  John  Wanamaker  Great  Organ 
has  become  one  of  the  largest  and  finest  in  the 
world,  with  additions  from  1914  to  1930  increasing 
it  to  a  six-manual  console  instrument  with  451 
stops  and  30,067  pipes. 

World-famous  organists  have  been  impressed  by 
the  beauty,  completeness  and  accessibility  of  the 
console  and  the  musical  obligation  entailed  by  this 
majestic  instrument  has  been  recognized  and  ob- 
served ever  since  its  first  concert.  It  has  been 
played  every  business  day  since  its  installation  and 
has  undoubtedly  been  heard  by  a  greater  number 
of  people  than  any  other  organ  in  existence. 

In  1945,  after  a  full  month  of  tests  by  engineers 
of  radio  station  WIBG  in  Philadelphia,  the  Great 
Organ  was  heard  in  a  new  series  of  daily  recitals, 
Monday  through  Saturday,  from  10:05  to  10:30 
A.M.,  making  it  one  of  the  longest  commercially- 
sponsored  organ  programs  in  the  history  of  Phila- 
delphia radio. 


Alone,  the  organ  stands  in  majestic  splendor.  A  month  of  testing 
was  necessary  to  discover  the  correct  microphone  placements  that 
would    encompass    the    great    range    of    the    instrument's    divisions. 


COAST  to  COAST 

(Continued  from  page  11) 

university  a  $5,000  check  for  gymnasium 

maintenance. 

*  «         « 

You  want  to  know  why  it  costs  such 
a  lot  to  put  on  a  radio  show?  Here's 
one  sample.  The  Stop  the  Music  radio 
series  requires  a  staff  of  ninety-nine 
people  to  operate  the  show.  Now  that 
a  theater  unit  has  been  added,  this  staff 
has  been  increased  by  fifteen,  which 
does  not  include  the  house  bands  that 
will  be  used.  A  staff  like  this  makes 
the  show  practically  an  industry. 

*  *         * 

Radio  producer  Jack  Johnstone  al- 
ways appears  at  the  studio  carrying  a 
briefcase,  but  let  no  one  get  the  idea 
that  this  is  because  there's  a  lot  of  paper 
work  connected  with  his  job.  Jack 
works  like  a  frantic  beaver  during  re- 
hearsals and,  following  the  dress  re- 
hearsal, he  retires  to  a  sheltered  corner, 
unzips  his  briefcase,  and  takes  out  a 
fresh  shirt  and  tie  to  put  on  before  he 
faces  the  studio  audience  for  the  broad- 
cast. 

#  4:  4; 

Zany  lady  Minnie  Pearl  has  a  hobby 
that's  literally  gone  to  her  head.  She 
collects  antique  hats  and,  having  let  her 
audience  in  on  her  hobby,  she's  getting 
a  lot  of  help.  Recently,  she  received  a 
choice  number,  a  112-year-old  straw 
lid,  which  was  sent  to  her  by  a  Ken- 
tucky listener.  It's  a  wide  brimmed 
affair  with  a  small  crown  covered  by  a 
complicated  combination  of  lace  and 
tulle.  Minnie  ought  to  hold  a  show  to 
prove  that  women's  fashions  don't 
really  change  so  much,  they  just  rotate 
a  bit.  This  bit  of  straw  and  veil  doesn't 
sound  much  different  from  what  the 
gals  have  been  wearing  these  days. 

:^  *  * 

The  staff  of  CBS's  You  Are  There, 
the  show  that  makes  great  moments  in 
history  come  alive  in  your  living  room, 
pulled  a  cute  stunt  on  Robert  Lewis 
Shayon,  producer-director  of  the  pro- 
gram. Recently,  without  warning,  they 
played  him  a  specially  written  and 
produced  version  of  the  program  called, 
"The  Casting  of  a  Show,  CBS,  New 
York,"  a  gentle  but  satiric  ribbing  of 
Shayon's  relentless  insistence  on  per- 
fect casting,  authentic  atmosphere  and 
epic  treatment  of  the  historic  events 
which  the  show  features. 

GOSSIP  AND  STUFF  FROM  HITH- 
ER AND  YON  .  .  .  Sammy  Kaye  is  now 
in  the  bowling  alley  business.  He's 
started  a  chain  in  the  midwest  .  .  . 
Inner  Sanctum  host  Paul  McGrath  is 
appearing  on  Broadway  in  Clifford 
Odets'  new  play,  "The  Big  Knife"  .  .  . 
Elliott  Lewis  acting  in  a  new  film  being 
directed  by  Irving  Reis,  ex-radio  cue 
tosser  .  .  .  Marie  Wilson  busy  at  the 
flicker  studios,  putting  her  role  in  My 
Friend  Irma  on  celluloid  .  .  .  Lucille 
BaU  is  at  work  on  the  Columbia  pic, 
"Miss  Grant  Takes  Richmond,"  between 
stints  at  her  radio  role  in  My  Favorite 
Husband  .  .  Jack  Bailey's  first  book  is 
on  the  stands.  Title,  What's  Cookin' 
.  .  .  Jimmy  Stewart  reported  interested 
in  doing  a  comedy  series  for  CBS  .  .  . 
Professor  Quiz  is  writing  a  book  on  the 
history  of  quiz  programs  .  .  .  Zanies 
Olsen  and  Johnson  are  being  submitted 
to  an  auto  sponsor  in  one  of  the  most 
costly  programs  yet  devised  for  tele- 
vision .  .  .  Phil  Davis,  head  idea  man  for 
Ralph  Edwards,  has  sold  an  original 
story,  "Moon  Over  the  Catskills,"  to 
George  Jessel  for  screen  production  .  .  . 
That's  all  for  now.    Good  listening  .  .  . 


TONI  TWINS  prove  magic  of 
SOFT-WATER  Shampooing 


Lather  .  .  . 

was  Alva's  problem! 

"Imagine  trying  to  shampoo 
your  hair  without  enough  la- 
ther," complains  Alva  Ander- 
son. "And  that's  just  about 
what  happens  every  time  I  use 
a  soap  shampoo!"  Of  course, 
Alva  won't  ever  get  the  lather 
she  wants  with  a  soap  shampoo 
—  especially  in  hard  water! 
And  she  can't  rinse  away  that 
dulling  soap  film,  either.  That's 
what  leaves  hair  looking  drab 
and  lifeless.  Makes  it  hard  to 
manage,  too! 


But  Alice 

got  heaps  of  it ! 

"Toni  Creme  Shampoo  is  won- 
derful! Even  in  hard  water,  I 
get  all  the  rich,  creamy  lather 
I  need  — and  then  some!"  says 
twin  Alice.  And  Toni  does 
more  than  that!  After  Soft- 
Water  Shampooing,  your  hair 
is  exquisitely  clean  .  .  .  shinier 
.  .  .  more  glamorous  than  you 
ever  dreamed  possible!  Each 
strand  shimmers  with  all,  yes 
all  its  natural  beauty!  Curls 
are  fresh,  vibrant-looking  .  .  . 
soft  as  a  moonbeam! 


Now  it's  Toni  Creme  Shampoo  for  Two! 


The  Anderson  twins  know  there's  nothing 
like  Toni  Creme  Shampoo  !  Nothing  like  Soft- 
Water  Shampooing  in  hard  water!  For  Toni 
bursts  into  oceans  of  thick,  billowy  lather 
.  .  .  rinses  away  dirt  and  dandruff  instantly. 
Toni  leaves  your  hair  wonderfully  fresh  and 
radiant . .  .  sparkling  with  precious  new  high- 
lights. Helps  your  permanent  "take"  better 
.  .  .  look  lovelier  longer.  Get  the  jar  or  tube 
of  Toni  Creme  Shampoo  today.  Try  Soft- 
Water  Shampooing.  It's  for  you! 


Enriched  with  Lanolin 


13 


Singer  Anne  Shelton's  glamor  isn't  confined  to  her  voice. 


Niece   Stephanie  gets  a   special  Shelton  lullaby. 


fflCinG 


With  sister  Jo,  r.,  a  spot  of  "snooker"  for  fun. 


When  Anne  Shelton  can  steal  the  time,  she  golfs — 
and   prize    chow   "Jet"   always    comes    along,    too. 


ANNE  SHELTON,  the  young  British  singer  whose 
records  are  becoming  so  popular  over  here,  has 
a  favorite  Big  Moment  she  likes  to  remember. 
It  happened  when  Bing  was  touring  England  dur- 
ing the  war  on  a  series  of  USO  shows.  Anne  was 
invited  to  make  the  tour  with  Der  Bingle;  sharing 
a  mike  with  him  is  her  favorite  memory. 

Anne  is  one  of  those  rare  people  who  decide  at 
an  early  age  what  they'd  like  to  do  and  then  go 
right  on  to  do  it.  When  only  ten  years  old  Anne 
had  made  up  her  mind  to  follow  a  singing  career. 
She  started  with  entertaining  at  local  functions. 
By  the  time  she  was  fifteen,  Anne  had  already 
been  heard  over  the  English  radio  on  a  BBC  radio 
program.  English  bandleader  Ambrose  heard  that 
program  and  immediately  asked  Anne  to  join  his 
famous  orchestra.  After  a  short  tour  with  the 
band,  Anne  was  given  her  own  radio  program. 
Her  broadcasts  to  the  troops  were  heard  all  over 
Europe.  Immediately  after  the  war  BBC  officials 
kept  Anne  on  the  air  with  a  program  called  Intro- 
ducing Anne.  The  English  vocal  star  was  also 
featured  with  the  Glenn  Miller  Band,  and  was  the 
only  British  vocalist  on  American  Forces  Network. 
In  her  personal  life,  Anne  has  permitted  herself 
two  luxuries:  a  limousine  and  a  huge  collection  of 
perfumes.  Her  favorite  hobbies  are  golf,  her  dogs 
and  horse-back  riding.  She  rides  as  often  as  pos- 
sible. Fact  is,  she  prefers  the  outdoor  life  with  the 
passion  that's  possible   only  to   a   confirmed  city 


14 


the  music 


By  JOE  MARTIN 


dweller.  If  she  had  her  way,  she  would  turn 
country  squire. 

Anne  s  new  home,  in  a  suburb  of  London,  is 
complete  v/ith  a  nine-hole  golf  course,  kennels, 
billiard  and  ping-pong  room  and  a  complete  music 
and  recording  room.  She  shares  most  of  her  activi- 
ties with  her  younger  sister  Jo,  who  at  the  age 
of  fourteen  is  well  on  her  way  to  vocal  stardom, 
too.  Anne  and  Jo's  biggest  critic  is  their  mother — 
Anne's  most  enthusiastic  listener  is  her  little  niece, 
who  gets  a  personal  song  every  night  around  bed- 
time. 

Anne's  London  Records  are  already  being  fea- 
tured on  every  radio  station  in  the  United  States, 
and,  in  addition,  her  English  radio  program  is 
regularly  beamed  to  this  continent  via  short  wave. 
At  the  moment,  she  is  weighing  offers  to  come  to 
the  United  States  before  the  year  is  out.  Whether 
or  not  Anne  comes  will  depend  on  English  radio 
commitments  and  a  very  heavy  recording  schedule. 
*         *         * 

Petite  organist  Ethel  Smith  flies  to  London  this 
month  for  a  three-week  engagement  at  the  Palla- 
dium, and  then  on  to  Paris  and  Sweden.  Since  the 
Hammond  Organ  people  have  not  exported  their 
product  to  Europe  for  almost  ten  years,  they  are 
shipping  an  up-to-date  model  overseas  for  Miss 


Smith,  with  an  expert  mechanic  going  along  for 
safety. 

*  *         * 

Lena  Home's  first  stop  on  the  personal  appear- 
ance tour  she  starts  this  month  will  be  "The  Cave" 
in  Vancouver,  B.  C.  After  that  the  gorgeous  Lena 
takes  her  songs  to  San  Francisco,  Las  Vegas  and 
points  East. 

English  singer  Beryl  Davis,  who's  now  Mrs. 
Peter  Potter,  will  be  rocking  the  cradle  some  time 
this  summer.  Peter  Potter  is  the  Los  Angeles  disc 
jockey. 

*  *         * 

Eddy  Arnold  has  a  new  Boxer  puppy,  named 
Duke.  It  seems  Duke  came  from  occupied  Ger- 
many and  has  a  German  pedigree  a  mile  long. 
When  singer  Eddy  turns  on  his  yodeling  the  dog 
rebels  and  shakes  his  head  at  the  high  notes.  The 
dog,  however,  is  probably  Eddy's  only  censor — 
that  is,  judging  from  the  Arnold  popularity. 

Even  though  Illinois  Jacquet  is  an  exclusive  RCA 
Victor  recording  artist,  you'll  find  his  name  on  the 
record  labels  of  five  different  companies.  Many 
of  the  discs  he  recorded  before  signing  his  last 
contract  are  now  being  offered  for  sale. 


Victor  Mature  was  one  of  Kay's  recent  guests  on 
Starring  Kay  Starr,  heard  Sat.,  8  P.M.  EST,  ABC. 


Nellie  Lulcher  changed  the  tempo  when  she  guested 
on  Supper  Club,  with  Dave  Barbour,  Peggy  Lee. 


15 


Harry  and  Betty  Webb,  whose  marriage  was  the  culmination  of  a  radio  romance,  play  with  baby  Melanie. 


HISTORIC 


OF    THE    AIR 


WBEN    newscaster    Webb    is    on    the    air 
weekdays     at     7,    8,    9    A.M.    and    noon. 


16 


ALL  of  the  romance  that  goes  on  around  a  radio  micro- 
phone isn't  confined  to  the  script,  according  to  Harry 
Webb,  now  WBEN's  popular  morning  newscaster. 

Back  in  1945  when  Harry  was  an  announcer  at  WSNY,  he 
met  pretty  brunette  Betty  Sheffield,  who  was  conducting 
a  women's  program  on  the  Schenectady  station.  This 
was  all  very  well  except  that  Harry  was  announcing  nights 
and  Betty  was  working  days. 

But  love  laughs  at  time  schedules,  so  Betty  slyly  ar- 
ranged to  do  her  script-writing  at  night — in  the  studios 
— and  they  were  married  on  Aug.  24,  1946.  Their  daughter, 
Melanie  Boyd  Webb,  was  born  Nov.  8,  1947. 

Harry,  a  handsome  six-footer,  is  a  native  of  Fulton,  N.  Y. 
Graduating  from  Williams  College  with  an  A.  B.  in  German, 
he  was  active  in  drama  there  and  was  a  member  of  the 
Williams  College  Glee  Club  which  sang  at  the  New  York 
Hippodrome  in  1936. 

Leaving  Williams  in  1938,  Harry  engaged  in  insurance 
work  in  Syracuse,  then  joined  WSNY.  He  later  became  a 
public  relations  man  for  the  Chamber  of  Commerce  in  East 
Orange,    N.    J.,    before    becoming    affiliated    with    WBEN. 


During  the  war  he  sang  in  many  War  Bond  shows. 

Betty  majored  in  dramatics  at  Mills  College  in  Oakland, 
Calif.,  and  still  retains  an  abiding  love  for  that  state. 

Harry  likes  his  work  although  he  can't  say  the  same 
about  the  hour  at  which  he  arises — 4:45  A.M.,  six  days  a 
week.  He  broadcasts  bulletins  at  6,  7,  8,  9  A.M.,  and  Noon 
from  The  Buffalo  Evening  News  editorial  rooms.  A  con- 
scientious worker,  he  listens  to  practically  every  newscast 
possible  in  order  to  check  pronunciation  and  diction. 

His  most  interested  fan  outside  his  own  family  is  a  court 
stenographer  with  offices  near  the  WBEN  studios.  She 
practices  at  home  by  taking  in  shorthand  the  complete 
9  A.M.  news  round-up;  is  one  of  Harry's  severest  critics, 
and  never  fails  to  tell  him  when  he  talks  too  fast. 

Young  Mr.  Webb,  who  was  born  during  the  historic 
week  when  the  United  States  declared  war  with  Germany 
in  World  War  I,  also  participated  in  a  historic  Buffalo 
radio  inaugural.  On  his  first  day  at  work.  Armistice  Day  on 
Nov.  11,  1946,  he  had  the  honor  of  putting  The  Buffalo 
Evening  News'  frequency  modulation  station  WBEN-FM  on 
the  air  for  the  first  time. 


What  makes  YOU  tick? 


I 


John  McCaffery,  who  asks  the  questions 
on  What  Makes  You  Tick?  (CBS,  2:45 
PM.  EST,  Monday  through  Friday)  has 
prepared  another  special  set  of  ques- 
tions for  Radio  Mirror  readers  who  are 
anxious  to  trip  themselves  up  .  .  .  or,  if 
it  sounds  more  polite,  who  are  anxious 
to  learn  more  about  how  they  seem  to 
other  people.  (And  who,  these  days, 
isn't  worrying  about  that?)  Answer 
these  honestly,  add  up  your  score,  and 
you'll  know  a  little  more  about  your 
answer  to  the  question:  How  stubborn 
are  you? 


1.  Have  you  ever  been  called  stub- 
born? 

2.  When  you  go  out  for  on  evening, 
does  it  distress  you  if  the  rest  of 
the  gong  wants  to  go  to  a  differ- 
ent  place  than   you? 

3.  As  a  child  did  your  mother 
have  a  hard  time  getting  you  to 
eat   certain   foods? 

4.  Have  you  ever  wanted  to  make 
up  with  someone  after  a  fight  but 
were    too    stubborn   to    do    so? 

5.  Would  you  say  that  you  had 
above   average  "snap"  judgment? 

6.  Would  you  adhere  to  your  politi- 
cal affiliations  after  you  had 
committed  yourself  strongly, 
though  in  your  heart  you  knew 
your    candidate    wasn't   the    best? 

7.  Have  you  ever  argued  with  another 
driver    about    the    right    of    way? 

8.  Would  you  wear  a  piece  of  cloth- 
ing that  you  lilted,  but  most  other 
people  made  fun  of  or  criticized? 

9.  Have  you  ever  caught  cold  be- 
cause you  sat  in  a  draft  or  didn't 
wear  your  rubbers,  though  you 
had      been     warned      beforehand? 

10.  Do  you  think  your  stubbornness 
has   gained   you    anything? 


Yes 

No 

D 

n 

D 

n 

D 

n 

D 

n 

n 

n 

D 

n 

D 

n 

n   n 
n   n 


Give  yourself  10  points  for  every  YES 
answer.  Stubbornness  is  a  very  childisb 
emotion  for  the  reason  that  most  times  it 
dra^vs  a  curtain  on  (»ne^s  ability  to  reason 
and  think  clearly,  and.  even  worse,  it 
sometimes  destroys  one's  sense  of  equity 
and  fair  play.  If  your  score  is  over  80, 
better  take  stock  of  yourself  and  give  the 
other  felloiv  a  break,  for  in  doing  so  you^Il 
be  giving  yourself  a  break  too-  People  will 
like  you  much  better.  40  to  70  is  about 
right  for  most  people.  As  everyone  know^s. 
a  certain  amount  of  stubbornness  is  highly 
desirable,  if  it's  tempered  w^itb  reason.  30 
and  below  probably  indicates  that  people 
take  advantage  of  you  in  many  instances. 
Better  stiffen  up  a  little,  pal.  because  no 
one  admires  a  ^'wishv-washy""  attitude. 


Your  loveliness 
is  Doubly  Safe 


ci^ 


Veto  gives  you 
Double  Protection! 


^XyvC{/C/.  .  .  Veto  guards  your  loveliness  night  and 
day — safely  protects  your  clothes  and  you.  For  Veto  not  only 
neutralizes  perspiration  odor,  it  checks  perspiration,  too!  Yes, 
Veto  gives  you  Double  Protection !  And  Veto  disappears  instantly 
to  protect  yr,u  from  the  moment  you  apply  it! 


dfyaed?^. 


)(y <2€HlfZ/  •  •  .  Always  creamy  and  smooth,  Veto  is  lovely 

to  use  and  keeps  you  lovely.  And  Veto  is  gentle,  safe  for  normal 
skin,  safe  for  clothes.  Doubly  Safe!  Veto  alone  contains 
Duratex,  Colgate's  exclusive  ingredient  to  make  Veto  safer. 
Let  Veto  give  your  loveliness  double  protection ! 


Veto  Easts  and  Easts  from  EmtEt  to  batEt! 


A 


Aane    lllUc 


oraan 


y 


18 


KI.SSABLE  TEXTURE 

/.    Keeps  lips  soft... invitingly 
moist. 

2.  Feels  just  right... gives  you 
confidence. 

3.  Does   not   smear  or   run   at 
the  edges. 

4.  Goes    on   so    easily. ..so 
smoothly ...  so  quickly. 

5.  And  it  lasts -and  LASTS - 
and  L-A-S-T-S! 


KISS    COLORS 

TANGEE  PINK  QUEEN  -  The  pink  of 
perfection  . . .  makes  lips  exciting  — 
inviting  — irresistible  to  men. 

TANGEE  RED  RED -The  reddest  red 
of  them  all.  Just  what  you  need 
"to  get  your  man." 

TANGEE  RED  MAJESTY -No.  1  shade 
for  bnniettes !  Sure  to  make  your 
lips  his  "target  for  tonight." 

TANGEE  MEDIUM  RED-Not  too  dark 
...not  too  light... but  just  right  to 
tempt  — and  tease. 


Jane       Morgan       looks 
after   our   Miss   Brooks. 


ON  THE  Our  Miss  Brooks  program, 
Jane  Morgan  plays  Eve  Arden's 
pixilated  landlady  with  delightful 
abandon.  That's  the  CBS  Sunday  eve- 
ning program— 9:30  P.M.  EST.  She's 
equally  funny  as  Mrs.  Foster  on  the  Jack 
Carson  Show   (CBS,  Fri.,  8  P.M.  EST). 

But  the  real  Jane  Morgan  is  a  serious, 
sensible  and  very  dignified  lady,  whose 
lifetime  dream  is  to  have  a  million 
dollars  with  which  to  hire  a  stauf  of 
practical  nurses  to  relieve  tired  mothers 
who  would  then  be  sent  on  vacation. 
To  which  a  lot  of  mothers  can  say  Hal- 
lelujah! 

Miss  Morgan,  who  was  born  in  Eng- 
land (she  came  to  this  country  when 
she  was  a  year  old),  became  one  of  Hol- 
lywood's most  demanded  character  ac- 
tresses by  way  of  violin  and  voice 
training.  Her  childhood  ambition  was 
to  be  a  concert  violinist,  toward  which 
end  she  studied  at  the  New  England 
Conservatory  of  Music  in  Boston.  She 
added  voice  training  to  her  curriculum 
and  after  graduation  joined  the  Bos- 
ton Opera  Company,  with  which  she 
doubled  as  a  violinist  and  singer. 

It  was  there  that  an  operatic  role, 
which  demanded  some  dramatic  inter- 
pretation, introduced  her  to  that  branch 
of  the  arts  and  from  that  time  on  Miss 
Morgan  leaned  more  toward  acting  than 
music.  It  wasn't  long  before  she  de- 
cided to  devote  all  her  energy  to  the 
legitimate  theatre.  A  character  actress 
from  the  beginning.  Miss  Morgan  toured 
all  over  the  country. 

She  made  her  radio  debut  in  1930 
in  a  program  which  featured  the  old- 
time  movie  actor.  Lew  Cody.  In  the 
years  that  followed,  she  has  appeared 
on  programs  like  Lux  Radio  Theatre, 
Dr.  Christian  very  often  and  with  Jack 
Benny,  Bob  Hope  and  others. 

Her  first  job  at  the  Boston  Opera 
Com.pany  paid  her  only  $25  a  week,  but 
it  brought  big  dividends  in  the  way  of 
romance.  She  met  and  married  Leo  Cul- 
len  Bryant, '  also  a  violinist  with  the 
Opera. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bryant  now  live  in 
the  San  Fernando  Valley  and  their 
home  is  mute  evidence  of  Jane's  second 
most  important  hobby — the  collection 
of  Oriental  art  treasures.  A  Chinese 
screen   is   her  most  valued   possession. 

But  Miss  Morgan's  major  hobby  is 
her  grandchild,  the  small  daughter  of 
her  daughter,  Frances.  About  this 
youngster,  she  behaves  and  talks  ex- 
actly the  way  e\'"jry  proud  grandmother 
ever  has  and  Frances  is  one  mother  who 
will  never  need  one  of  those  practical 
nurses  for  tired  mothers. 


L^ollector  d  (^i 


omef 


BY 
ELLIOT  LAWRENCE 

{The  youthjul  Mr.  Lawrence  came 
right  out  of  the  University  of  Pennsyl- 
vania and  into  the  top  of  the  music- 
making  world.  After  conducting  the 
studio  orchestra  on  WCAU  in  Phila- 
delphia, he  formed  his  own  dance  band, 
started  recording  for  Columbia  and  be- 
came the  fastest-rising  star  on  the 
musical  horizon.  College  dates  are  the 
Lawrence  band  specialty.  Here's  Elliot's 
second  list  for  Collector's  Corner — his 
first  appeared  in  an  earlier  issue. 
*         *         * 

My  likes  and  dislikes  in  music  follow 
no  defined  pattern.  I  like  music  which 
pleases  me,  dislike  the  kind  that  rubs 
me  the  wrong  way.  As  far  as  an  or- 
chestra's vocalist's  interpretation  of 
music  goes,  I  respect  the  rendition  if  it 
proves  that  the  person  interpreting  it 
has  a  knowledge  of  music.  On  the  other 
hand  there  is  nothing  that  makes  me 
throw  up  my  hands  more  quickly  than 
an  interpretation  which  shows  that  the 
bandleader  or  singer  knows  nothing 
whatsoever  about  music — and  believe 
me,  there  are  many  such  individuals 
whose  incomes  are  in  six  and  seven 
figures  annually!  Please  don't  take  all 
this  to  mean  that  I'm  a  prude  in  my 
musical  tastes.  I  like  all  types  of  music. 
However,  I  thoroughly  dislike  a  dishon- 
est or  shabby  interpretation  of  any 
piece  of  music.  In  this  light  I  would 
like  to  list  my  ten  favorite  records,  all 
of  which  1  believe  are  worthy  of  being 
in  any  collection  of  the  finest  in  music: 

1.  "Bijou"  by  Woody  Herman — with 
Bill  Harris's  wonderful  trombone. 

2.  "Artistry  In  Rhythm"  by  Stan  Ken- 
ton— a  thoroughly  sincere  artist. 

3.  "Voice  of  Frank  Sinatra"  album, 
my  favorite  being  Frank's  superlative 
rendition  of  "These  Foolish  Things." 

4.  "Tenderly"  by  Sarah  Vaughan, 
who  is  one  of  the  finest  new  singers. 

5.  "Benny  Rides  Again"  by  Benny 
Goodman — great  because  of  Eddie 
Sauter's   outstanding  arrangement. 

6.  "For  You"  by  "Tommy  Dorsey,  who 
is  one  of  my  favorite  bandleaders. 

7.  "I  Can't  Get  Started  With  You"  by 
Leonard  Tristano — a  great  piano  solo. 

8.  Ravel's  "La  Valse,"  as  rendered  by 
the  Boston  Symphony  Orchestra. 

9.  Brahms'  Symphony  No.  1  in  C 
Minor,  by  the  New  York  Philharmonic 
Orchestra  under  Artur  Rodzinski. 
Brahms  is  my  favorite  classical  com- 
poser. 

10.  "Oo-Pah-Pada"  by  Dizzy  Gilles- 
pie— a  great  be-bop  rendition. 


New  Improved 

Pepsodent  Removes 

FILM  Amazingly! 

In  just  7  days— you'll  have 
brighter  teeth  and  fresher  breath  —  or 

DOUBLE  YOUR  MONEY  BACK! 


Run  the  tip  of  your  longiie  over 
your  teeth;  If  you  feel  «  slippery 
coofmg  there  ^You    have  niW. 


Why  FILM  must  be  removed 

1 .  FILM  collects  stains  that  make       3.  FILM  glues  acid  to  your  teeth 

teeth  look  dull 

2.  FILM  harbors  germs  that  breed       4.  FILM  never  lets  up  — it  forms  con- 

bad  breath  tinually  on  everyone's  teeth 


Now  Faster  Foaming! 
New  Pepsodent  Sv\Aeeps  FILM  Away! 


New  improved  Pepsodent  will  bring  a  thrill- 
ing brightness  to  your  teeth,  a  new  fresh- 
ness to  your  breath— or  we'll  return  twice 
what  you  paid ! 

No  other  tooth  paste  can  duplicate  new 
Pepsodent's  film-removing  formula !  It 
foams  wonderfully  — goes  to  work  faster, 
fighting  film:  (1)  Pepsodent  routs  discolor- 
ing stains  that  collect  on  film.  (2)  It  checks 
film's  "bad  breath"  germs  that  cause  food 
particles  to  decay.  (3)  Pepsodent  helps  pro- 
tect you  from  acid  produced  by  germs  in 
film.  This  acid,  many  dentists  agree,  is  the 
cause  of  tooth  decay.  (4)  Film  forms  con- 
tinually. Remove  it  regularly  and  quickly 
with  Pepsodent.  No  other  tooth  paste  con- 
tains Irium  — or  Pepsodent's  gentle  polish- 
ing agent ! 

Try  new  fast-foaming  Pepsodent  with 
Irium  for  7  days.  If  you're  not  convinced  it- 


gives  you  cleaner  breath  and  brighter  teeth 
—  mail  unused  portion  of  tube  to  Pepsodent, 
Division  Lever  Brothers  Company,  Dept.  G, 
Chicago,  111.  —and  you'll  receive  double  your 
money  back,  plus  postage !  Offer  expires 
August  31,  1949.  Remember,  for  the  safety 
'  of  your  smile,  use  Pepsodent  twice  a  day  — 
see  your  dentist  twice  a  year  ! 


Another  fine    product  of 
Lever  Brothers  Company 


19 


lonight!..Show  him  how  much  loveher 
your  hair  can  look... alter  a 


NOT   A   SOAP! 

NOT   A   LIQUID! 

BUT   KAY   DAUMIT'S 

.  RICH    LATHERING 

CREAM   SHAMPOO 

WITH    LANOLIN 

for  Soft,  Shimmering 
Glamorous  Hair 


20 


4-oz.  jar  $1;  10-oz.  economy  size  $2. 
Smaller  jars  and  tubes  49^  and  25^. 


No  other  shampoo  gives  you  the  same 
magical  secret-blend  lather  plus  kindly 
LANOLIN  . . .  for  true  hair  beauty. 

Tonight  he  can  SEE  new  sheen  in  your  hair,  FEEL  its 
caressabk  softness,THRILLto  its  glorious  naturaLbeauty . 
Yes,  tonight,  if  you  use  Lustre-Creme  Shampoo  today ! 

Only  Lustre-Creme  has  Kay  Daumit's  magic  blend 
of  secret  ingredients /?Zm5  gentle  lanolin.  This  glamoriz- 
ing shampoo  lathers  in  hardest  water.  Leaves  hair 
fragrantly  clean,  shining,  free  of  loose  dandruif  and 
so  soft,  so  manageable ! 

Famous  hairdressers  use  and  recommend  it  for 
shimmering  beauty  in  all  "hair-dos"  and  permanents. 
Beauty-wise  women  made  it  America's  favorite  cream 
shampoo.  Try  Lustre-Creme!  The  man  in  your  life — 
and  you — will  love  the  loveliness  results  in  your  hair. 


LOOK  AT  THE 


ELTON  BRITT  (RCA  Victor)  — 
When  Ehon's  girl  friend  prefers 
candy  kisses  to  his  own,  it's  time 
for  him  to  sing  about  it.  The  title 
naturally,  is  "Candy  Kisses."  The 
reverse  of  this  disc  is  "You'll  Be 
Sorry  From  Now  On."  A  good  buy. 

JANE  HARVEY  (MGM)— You'll 
recall  that  Jane  sang  with  Benny 
Goodman,  Bob  Hope  and  toured 
with  Eddie  Cantor  and  Mickey 
Rooney.  Her  first  record,  coupling 
"Always  True  To  You  In  My 
Fashion''  and  "So  In  Love,"  is  fine. 
Listen    to    Jane,    you'll    like    her. 

PAUL  WESTON  (Capitol) —"La 
Raspa"  and  "Hot  Canary"  are 
paired  to  offer  you  excellent  listen- 
ing. "Hot  Canary"  is  the  cutest 
instrumental  record  we've  heard 
in  a  long  time.  "La  Raspa"  is  a 
potpourri  of  "Mexican  Hat  Dance," 
"Three  Blind  Mice,"  "Pop  Goes 
The  WeaseL"  and  be-bop. 

FRANK  SINATRA  (Columbia)  — 
"The  Voice"  sings  a  pair  of  ballads 
that  were  both  originally  French 
chansons.  "Comme  Ci  Comme 
Ca"  is  the  lighter  side  of  the 
record,  while  "While  the  Angelus 
Was  Ringing"  is  based  on  the 
famous  Edith  Piaf  recording  of 
"Les  Trois  Cloche."  Musically, 
both  are  above  average. 

DORIS  DAY  (Columbia)— The 
beautiful  Miss  Day  does  very  well 
by  the  latest  Irving  Berlin  opus, 
"I'm  Beginning  To  Miss  You."  The 
side  entitled  "Don't  Gamble  With 
Romance"  is  an  attempt  to  dupli- 
cate "You  Can't  Be  True  Dear" — 
it  doesn't  quite  make  it. 

CHUBBY  JACKSON  (MGM)  — 
Chubby's  group  is  made  up  of  ex- 
Woody  Herman  musicians,  which 
the  bearded  Chubby  is  himself. 
They  play  two  original  be-bop 
compositions  replete  with  bop  vo- 
cals in  unison.  The  musicians  are 
Chubby  on  bass,  Tony  Aless  on 
piano,  Conte  Candoli  on  trumpet, 
Emmett  Carle  on  tenor  sax,  Mel 
Zelnick  on  drums,  and  Billy  Bauer 
on  guitar.-    It's  almost  weird. 

KISS  ME  KATE  (Columbia)  — 
This  is  a  twelve-inch  set  of  six 
records  that  almost  completely 
captures  the  spark  and  vitality  of 
the   new   Cole   Porter   show.    Con- 


By  JOE 


RECORDS 


tained  in  the  set  are  almost  every 
musical  number  from  the  show  as 
performed  by  the  original  Broad- 
way cast.  Particularly  effective  are 
Alfred  Drake  and  Patricia  Morison. 
Lisa  Kirk  sounds  just  fine.  It's  a 
good  set  to  add  to  your  collection 
of  show  music. 

PERRY  COMO— SUPPER  CLUB 
FAVORITES  (RCA  Victor)— None 
of  the  three  records  are  new  Como 
songs,  but  each  one  will  probably 
replace  Perry's  discs  in  your  col- 
lection that  have  been  played  and 
played  and  played.  All  in  one 
package  are  "Prisoner  of  Love," 
"Temptation,"  "Because,"  "Till  the 
"End  of  Time,"  "When  You  Were 
Sweet-  Sixteen"  and  "Song  of 
Songs." 

SOUND  OFF  (Capitol)— The  com- 
mand, "Sound  Off,"  familiar  to 
millions  of  servicemen  and  other 
millions  of  radio  listeners,  refers 
to  the  original  Army  radio  show  of 
that  name.  You'll  recall  the  dis- 
tinctive "Sound  Off"  chant  that 
identified  each  broadcast.  Two 
Sousa  Marches  are  also  included 
in  this  set  by  Mark  Warnow  and 
the  Army  radio  program  cast  and 
chorus. 

STAN  KENTON  ENCORES  (Cap- 
itol)— This  may  well  be  Kenton's 
recorded  swan  song.  We  don't 
know  whether  or  not  Capitol  will 
be  able  to  issue  any  more  new 
Kenton  recordings  since  Stan 
broke  up  his  band.  Each  of  the 
selections  in  this  album  is  in  typi- 
cal Kentonish  "Progressive  Jazz" 
style.  You  will  think  these  records 
are  either  glorious  or  terrible. 
No  matter  what,  though,  you'll 
know  that  they  are  unusual  offer- 
ings of  recorded  music. 


Paul  Weston's  new  disc  is 
South  American,  with  bop ! 


MARTIN 


X  (iPress  for  an  evening  cPote^... 
at  S  ocJ^ock  UT)  Tf)€/  friornlncr!' 


/,  "For  my  everyday  duties,  a  smart,  so- 
phisticated bronze  and  black  taffeta  and 
wool  ensemble,  studded  with  scatter  pins. 
And,  of  course,  I  rely  on  gentler,  even 
more  effective  Odorono  Cream  . . ".  because 
I  know  it  protects  me  from  perspiration  and 
odor  a  full  24  hours!" 

New  Odorono  Cream  brings  you  an  im- 
proved new  formula  in  a  bright  new  pack- 
age. Stays  creamy  smooth,  too  .  .  .  even  if 
you  leave  the  cap  off  for  weeks! 


2,  "For  my  evening  date,  I  remove  the 
jacket  and  set  off  the  gleaming  dress  with 
a  tawny  leopard  print  stole,  black  velvet 
belt  and  gloves.  I'm  confident  of  my  charm 
all  evening,  too,  thanks  to  new  Odorono 
Cream  .  .  .  because  the  Halgene  in  Odorono 
gives  more  effective  protection  than  any  de- 
odorant known." 

It  never  harms  fine  fabrics,  and  is  so 
gentle  you  can  use  it  right  after  shaving! 
You'll  find  it  the  perfect  deodorant. 


and 


I 


21 


LUCILLE  BALL 

starring  in 

"SORROWFUL  JONES" 

a  Paramount  Production 


Lucille  (j?>all 


It  was  all  over  between  us. 

Gene  hadn't  phoned  for  ages!  I  was 
heartbroken  until  the  night  I  read: 
"Rough  hands  embarrass  a  man," 
warns  Lucille  Ball.  "Men  like  a 
woman's  hands  to  look  feminine  .  . . 
feel  soft.  Keep  your  hands  smooth  and 
romantic  with  Jergens  Lotion— I  do!" 

I  started  Jergens-smoothing 

my  hands  that  night! 


The  next  time  I  met  Gene  . . .  my  hands 
looked  so  soft  and  smooth.  "So  nice  to 
hold,"  teased  Gene  ( on  our  second  dinner 
date  in  one  week ) !  I  know  he  meant  it,  too 
. .  .'cause  now  I'm  wearing  Gene's  ring! 

See  how  much  softer,  smoother,  lovelier 
today's  finer  Jergens  Lotion  keeps  your 
hands.  Being  a  liquid,  Jergens 
quickly  furnishes  the  softening 
moisture  thirsty  skin  needs. 
Leaves  no  stickiness!  Still 
only  10(i;  to  $1.00  plus  tax. 


22 


Hollywood  Stars  Use  Jergens  Lotion  7  to  1  Over 

Any  Other  Hand  Care  ^»- 

Used  by  more  Women  than  any  other  Hand  Care  in  the  World! 


c 


ame/iwM  a  dmam  ei  i^ 


SHE  was  our  traveler  of  the  month, 
but  for  Mrs.  Elizabeth  McDonald, 
of  Glascow,  Scotland,  it  was  the 
travel  story  of  her  life. 

It's  the  American  Story  in  reverse — 
the  story  of  the  person  who  didn't  come 
to  America  with  the  rest  of  her  family, 
the  story  of  the  woman  who  stayed 
horne  and  dreamed  of  American  plenty, 
while  she  had  to  keep  working  as  a 
maid  even  when  she  reached  the  age  of 
seventy-one.  Yes,  this  is  the  companion 
piece  to  our  much-told  story  of  The  Im- 
migrant, and  I  think  it's  well  worth 
telling. 

When  Mrs.  McDonald,  a  round,  smil- 
ing little  old  lady,  came  to  our  Welcome 
Travelers  party,  she  was  half-way 
through  her  dream  trip — her  once-in-a- 
lifetime  journey — to  see  two  daughters, 
a  son,  four  brothers  and  two  sisters,  all 
of  whom  live  in  this  country.  When  I 
asked  her  what  traveling  she  had  done 
before  this  trip,  this  is  what  she  said 
into  our  ABC  microphone: 

"I  never  traveled  anywhere.  The 
farthest  I  ever  went  from  Glasgow  was 
to  the  town  of  Ayr,  home  of  Bobby 
Burns,  just  thirty  miles  away.  I  never 
even  saw  things  in  Scotland,  such  as 
Loch  Lomond,  that  other  tourists  come 
thousands  of  miles  to  see.  No,  I  was 
never  anywhere." 

Now,  understand.  This  wasn't  said  in 
bitterness  or  regret.  It  was  said  matter- 
of-factly,  a  simple  statement  of  inexor- 
able truth,  an  acceptance  of  the  life  of 
trouble  she  had  led.  And  understand 
also  that  here  was  a  lady  who  could 
smile,  and  did  so  often.  Aiid  when  this 
Scotch  lady  smiled,  she  had  the  sweet- 
ness and  goodness  of  the  universal 
grandmother. 

As  we  chatted,  I  forgot  for  a  moment 
that  I  was  in  the  ultra-modern  College 
Inn  of  the  Hotel  Sherman  in  Chicago. 
I  had  the  feeling  that  I  was  in  a  Scotch 
cottage,  with  a  good,  thick  broth  sim- 
mering on  the  fire,  and  a  worn,  much- 
read  volume  of  Bobby  Burns'  poems 
on  the  old  table  nearby.  And  this  is  the 
story  I  heard,  in  the  pleasant  burr  of 
old  Scotland. 

Elizabeth  McDonald  was  the  oldest 
child  in  her  family,  and  the  first  mar- 
ried. When  she  herself  had  three  chil- 
dren, her  parents,  brothers  and  sisters 
decided  to  set  out  on  the  great  adven- 
ture— the  trip  to  America.  Elizabeth 
herself  didn't  feel  she  could  go.  Her 
husband  James,  an  honest  workingman, 
was  working  steady,  and  the  bairns — 
that's  her  name  for  kiddies — were  used 
to  their  home  in  Scotland.  Later,  may- 
be, but  not  right  now. 

"Besides,"  Mrs.  McDonald  told  me 
with  a  wink,  "I  never  was  one  for  rid- 
ing boats  or  trains.  Thej^  frightened  me." 

"If  that's  so,"  I  said,  "and  you  were 
afraid  to  travel,  how  did  you  get  over 
here  to  America  when  you  finally 
came?" 

"It's  simple,  Laddie,"  the  old  lady 
said.    "I    came    by    plane." 

But  that's  getting  ahead  of  my  story. 
Let's  go  back  to  Elizabeth  and  James 
McDonald  and  their  family  in  Scotland. 
That  family  kept  growing,  a  new  child 
almost  every  year,  until  eventually 
there  were  eleven  in  all. 

Then,  the  first  World  War.  James 
went  marching  off  with  Scotland's 
famed  Highlanders — the  kilts,  the  fierce 
music  of  the  bagpipes,  the  proud  tradi- 
tions   of    the    men    from   the    highland 


j/y 


yf( 


'(yrva 


^•/^ 


11    C€(/H 


ta/ce 


tmna^, 


an  ocean 


clans.  Elizabeth,  at  home,  began  taking 
occasional  day  jobs  as  a  domestic 
to  help  her  war-thinned  budget.  Though 
she  didn't  know  it  then,  this  was  the 
beginning  of  a  long,  long  night. 

James  fought  bravely.  He  was  fight- 
ing bravely  in  a  forest  in  France  when 
he  was  gassed  and  hit  by  shrapnel.  For 
months,  he  was  in  a  hospital  in  France. 
Finally,  he  was  able  to  write  a  letter 
to  Elizabeth  and  the  bairns.  The  worst 
was  over,  he  said,  and  soon  he  would 
be  home.  And  maybe  now,  that  he 
had  been  mercifully  saved,  they  could 
think  about  going  to  America  at  last. 

So  there  was  a  homecoming.  Not 
the  way  he  had  gone — one  in  a  bright 
brigade  of  trim  Highlanders.  Just 
James  alone,  with  a  duffel  bag  over  his 
shoulder,  knocking  at  the  door.  Just 
James,  too  thin,  grayer  than  he'd  been, 
and   coughing   too   much. 

But  James  had  plans  now.  He  really 
would  go  to  America,  as  Elizabeth's 
family  had  done,  and  perhaps  he  would 
prosper  as  all  of  them  had. 

In  America,  James  found  work  all 
right,  and  for  a  while  it  seemed  as 
if  he  soon  would  be  able  to  bring  over 
the  family.  All  of  a  sudden,  though, 
a  blur  came  into  his  eyes.  At  first, 
he  ignored  it.  Finally,  he  had  to  go  to 
a  doctor.  The  doctor  wasn't  certain  what 
was  wrong,  said  it  seemed  to  be  some- 
thing tracing  back  to  James's  war  in- 
juries. James,  knew,  though.  He  knew 
he  was  going  blind.  There  was  only 
one  thing  for  him  to  do  now — get  back 
to    Scotland,    get    back    there    quickly. 

This  homecoming  was  even  sadder 
than  his  return  from  the  war.  At  least 
there  had  been  hope  that  time,  hope 
of  going  to  America.  Now  there  was 
only  a  confused  man,  stumbling  over 
the  furniture,  sinking  into  a  long  si- 
lence. 

Soon,  James's  sight  was  so  bad  he 
couldn't  work.  Before  long,  he  was  com- 
pletely sightless.  The  family  over  in 
America  heard  the  news,  and  an  end- 
less stream  of  {Continued  on  page  85) 


It  took  half  a  lifetime 
for  Mrs.  Elizabeth  McDonald 
of  Glasgow  to  get  to  America. 
"But   I  hoped,"  she   told 
Tommy.  "And  here  I  am!" 


From  the  files  of  Welcome 
Travelers  (Mon.-Fri.,  12  N.. 
EST,  ABC)  m.c.  Tommy  Bart- 
lett  chooses  this  favorite 
story  to  retell  in  Radio  Mirror. 


^Vfym  in=u(m:^-—-€6Afx^taim   (Lmce  {(na  rj/ta/^el/ — w(f/,e 


1.  Shop  in  person,  Barbara  says — you 
see  what  you're  getting,  and  it's  fun! 


2.  Home  early,  full  of  pep.  "Give  your-  ] 
self    plenty    of    time,    keep    it    simple." 


6.  With  women  in  the  kitchen,  what  do  men  in  the  liv- 
ing room  talk  about?    It's  the  same  everywhere — baseball. 


AS   A  BRIDE   of   almost  six  months — on   the   radio   I'm 
Dennis   Day's    girl   friend,    and    Babs    in   The    Life    of 
Riley,  but  in  private  life  I  am  Mrs.  Don  Nelson — I  feel 
like   an  old  married   woman. 

Don  and  I  were  talking  about  this  happy  settled-down 
state  of  affairs  just  the  other  evening.  He  too  confessed 
that  he  felt  that  we  had  been  married  all  our  lives. 

It  was  high  time,  we  decided  then,  to  break  out  of  our 
honeymoon  seclusion  and  face  up  to  that  traditional  first 
hurdle  for  newly  married  couples — the  first  company 
dinner. 

There  was  no  question  about  whom  we  should  invite  as 
our  first  guests.  It  had  to  be  Don's  brother,  Ozzie  Nelson, 
and  Harriet. 


24 


7.  Don's    salad — with   eleven,   count    them,   ingredients— 
the  kind  of  production  that  makes  a  banquet  of  dinner. 


Ozzie  and  Harriet  Nelson,  as  everybody  who  listens  to  I 
the  radio  knows,  are  Happy  Young  Marrieds  not  only  in^ 
their  personal  lives,  but  on  the  air.  Their  wonderful  lifei 
together  gave  us  a  goal  to  shoot  for  when  we  got  married. 
I  don't  think  I've  ever  known  anyone  who  combined  the! 
jobs  of  wife,  mother,  homemaker,  and  career-woman  with 
more  success  than  Harriet,  and  no  husband  more  ap- 
preciative and  more  helpful  than  Ozzie. 

And  certainly  no  bride  and  groom  ever  got  off  to  a 
better  start  through  the  help  and  good  counsel  of  their] 
prospective  in-laws  than  Don  and  I. 

I  met  Don  through  Ozzie  and  Harriet  in  the  first  place. 
I  was  working  on  their  program — playing  Emmie  Lou  for  aj 
series  of  several  Sunday  shows. 

Ozzie  and  Harriet:  Sun.  firSO  P.M.,  EST.  CBS.    Barbara  Eiler  is  heard  on  the 


Ae'y^ct  aae^^:^  /(M^  a  ^Mt  convAa^ut'  clmnm<^         By  BARBARA  EILER  NELSON 


3.  Plenty  of  time?    Why,  Don  even  had 
leisure    to    polish    up    that    tenor    sax. 


4.  "I    went    to    the    door — not    flustered, 
not  hot,  not  wearing  a  Mother  Hubbard!" 


5.  Harriet  gave  everything  the  taste- 
test  and  Barbara  high  marks  as  cook. 


8.  And   afterwards,  records   and   relaxation   for   Ozzie   and   Harriet,  Don  and  Barbara,  like  any  young  couple  and  their  first 
guests,  whoever  and  wherever  they  may  be.  Nicest  compliment:  "Next  time,"  Harriet  told  Barbara,  "You  can  give  me  advice!" 


I  noticed  the  handsome  and  serioiis-looking  young  man 
who  came  in  the  first  day  to  hear  the  run-through,  and  was 
very  pleased  when  Ozzie  brought  him  over  and  presented 
him  as  "my  kid  brother." 

I  found  out  that  Don  was  a  musician — had  played 
originally  with  Ozzie's  band,  and  now  was  in  the  orchestra 
on  the  Groucho  Marx  show.  But  his  real  ambition  was  to 
be  a  writer.  He  was  going  to  U.S.C,  daytimes,  he  said — 
his  job  kept  him  busy  only  at  night — to  learn  the  craft. 

This  impressed  me.  I  have  known  a  lot  of  young  fellows 
who  think  they  want  to  be  writers.  But  most  of  them, 
frankly,  just  want  what  they  think  is  a  glamorous  and 
remunerative  job.   Don,  on  the  contrary,  wanted  to  write. 

Harriet  liked  this  quality  about  Don,  too,  she  told  me 


when    we    were    talking    about    him    several    days    later. 

"Don  is  a  lot  like  Ozzie,"  she  said.  "He'll  get  what  he 
wants  out  of  life,  because  he's  willing  to  work  for  it." 

Later,  when  Don  and  I  were  going  about  together  regu- 
larly and  were  beginning  to  think  about  getting  married, 
it  was  Harriet  again  who  answered  the  unasked  question. 

"Don't  wait,"  she  said.  "You  don't  have  to  have  your 
first  million  in  the  bank  to  get  married.  You  don't  have 
to  move  immediately  into  the  home  of  your  dreams.  It's 
more  fun  to  work  all  that  out  together." 

So  without  the  million — and  with  no  home  at  all — we 
did  it.  We  were  married  in  my  mother's  home  in  Los 
Angeles  last  September  17,  and  Ozzie  was  Don's  best  man. 
We  were  full  of  plans  and  hopes.    {Continued  on  page  78) 


Dennis  Day  show.  Sat.  10  P.M.  EST.  NBC:  Life  of  Riley:  Fri.  10  P.M.,  EST,  NBC. 


25 


If  Yield  had  been  asked  to 


vote  in  that  contest  to  choose  the 


Ideal  Husband,  Jack  Smith's 


score  would  have  been  even  higher. 


But  lie  didn't  need  that 


extra  vote  ...  he  won,  anyway 


By 
MRS.  JACK  SMITH 


the    Jack     Sniilh     Show    is    heard 
Mon.-Fri.,  7:15  P.M.  EST,  on  CBS. 


1  GUESS  most  of  us  who  are  happily  married  figure  that 
our  husbands  are  the  Ideal  Ones.  But  we  never  give  any 
particular  thought  to  why  we  think  so — at  least  that's  the 
way  it  was  with  me.  Then,  all  of  a  sudden,  up  came  a  special 
award  for  my  husband,  bestowed  by  the  Society  of  Photo- 
graphic Illustrators  in  their  annual  "Ideal  American  Family" 
competition.  And  they  named  Jack  the  Ideal  American 
Husband! 

I  think  it  was  more  of  a  thrill  for  me  than  it  was  for  Jack. 
And  I  got  to  thinking  about  it,  started  checking  up  on  this 
mate  of  mine.  Counting  my  blessings,  so  to  speak.  Because 
I  wanted  to  figure  out  just  exactly  why  my  husband  is  ideal. 

When  I  got  to  around  the  thousandth  reason,  I  gave  up  and 
decided  to  relax  and  enjoy  myself. 

But,  seriously,  there  are  a  lot  of  very  sound  reasons  that 
make  Jack  the  most  wonderful  guy  in  the  world  to  be  mar- 
ried to.  For  one  thing,  he  has  the  kind  of  sense  of  fun  that 
appeals  to  me.  He's  a  trifle  wacky  in  a  dry,  droll  way.  Adapt- 
able, and  so  easy  to  get  along  with.  That's  how  we  manage  to 
have  so  much  fun  just  in  our  everyday  life,  because  it  always 
turns  out  to  be  full  of  things  that  other  people  might  not  think 
were  special,  but  that  appeal  to  us. 

For  instance,  there's  Uncle  Fud. 

Over  our  fireplace  hangs  the  most  amazing  portrait  of  a 
long-eared  dog  that  anyone  has  ever  seen.  It's  one  of  those 
wonderful  old  chromos  that  everybody's  grandmother  used 
to  paint.  Fud  is  posed  in  a  sort  of  man  of  distinction  attitude. 
The  only  incongruous  thing  about  the  picture  is  a  small 
flowered  locket  hanging  at  one  side  of  his  neck. 

Jack  and  I  were  up  in  Connecticut  one  weekend — while  we 
were  living  in  New  York — on  one  of  our  endless  antique- 
hunting  jaunts.  And  in  a  shop,  I  came  face  to  face  with  Fud. 
I  knew  life  would  be  absolutely  empty  without  him,  now  that 
we'd  made  his  acquaintance.    I  called  Jack,  and  he  agreed. 

"He  looks  like  somebody's  ancestor,"  Jack  said.  "We  have 
no  family  portraits.  Go  ahead  and  get  him  if  you  want.  We'll 
put  up  a  name  plate  and  call  him — how  about  Fud?- — Uncle 
Fud?"  So  Uncle  Fud  he  was.  I  accosted  the  woman  and 
asked  how  much  the  thing  was.  She  told  me  $75.  I  cringed 
and  looked  at  Jack,  and  he  nodded  solemn  assent.  Reluc- 
tantly I  handed  over  the  money. 

"It  seems  like  a  lot,"  I  said,  "but  it's  such  a  wonderful 
picture!" 

"The  picture!"  she  shrieked.  "I  thought  you  meant  the 
frame!  Good  Heavens — you  can  have  the  picture  for  five 
dollars!"   So  Jack  and  I  escaped  with  (Continued  on  page  99) 


>  ^!!f»i^ifii»ii^mm^ 


Is  a  wife  taking  a  cliance,  when  she  admits  her  husband  is  ideal?  Vicki  Smith  doesn't  think  so.  And, 


26 


f 


A 


< 


^^ 


Mi 


^Vi 


•<'-;  I 


lafler  all  — who  should  know  better? 


AT  first  I  was  going  to  tell  the  fel- 
low I  wasn't  in.  That  I  couldn't 
write  anything  about  Jack  Car- 
son because  I  am  not  a  writer.  But 
then  I  got  to  thinking  that  I've 
written  a  lot  of  insurance  in  my 
time.  That's  pretty  good  writing — 
keeps  people  from  dying  broke  and 
it's  a  lot  of  good  all  around. 

So  I'm  going  to  write  about  Jack 
Carson.  I  think  it's  about  time  some 
editor  dug  up  a  new  slant  on  chil- 
dren. You  remember  the  little 
trouble  George  Washington  had  with 
his  son  and  how  the  boy  said, 
"Father,  I  cannot  tell  a  lie.  I  chopped 
down  the  cherry  tree  with  my  little 
hatchet." 

I  had  the  same  experience  when 
Jack  Carson  was  about  seven  years 
old,  except  that  it  had  nothing  to  do 


with  a  cherry  tree.  The  boy  came 
scooting  home  one  night  with  blood 
streaming  out  of  his  forehead.  After 
the  doctor  left,  I  said,  "That's  a  nasty 
gash  you've  got  in  your  head,  son. 
Tell  me  what  happened.  Tell  me  the 
truth." 

At  that  age.  Jack  was  acutely 
aware  of  the  Washington  plan.  He 
looked  at  me  stubbornly  and  rephed, 
"Dad,  I  can't  tell  a  lie — and  I'm  not 
gonna  tell  the  truth  either." 

What  can  you  do  with  a  boy  like 
that?  I  didn't  do  anything.  Five 
years  later  he  opened. up  one  day. 
"Dad,"  he  said,  "remember  the  day 
I  came  home  with  that  big  cut  on  my 
head?  Well,  I  was  helping  Bobby, 
the  boy  next  door,  chop  wood.  We 
had  a  fight.  He  said  he'd  chop  my 
head  off.   I  told  him  he  didn't  dare, 


and  that's  where  I  was  wrong!" 

My  first  memory  of  Jack  goes  back 
to  a  few  hours  before  his  birth.  This 
was  at  our  home  in  Carmen,  Mani- 
toba, Canada,  at  a  time  when  blessed 
events  usually  did  not  call  for  a  trip 
to  the  hospital.  The  doctor  had  been 
there  for  more  than  an  hour,  while 
I  paced  up  and  down  in  the  living 
room,  engaged  in  the  usual  useless 
business   of  husbandly   anticipation. 

Finally  I  had  to  say  something.  I 
went  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs  and 
called  up,  "Is  everything  all  right 
up  there?" 

My  wife's  voice  called  back  faint- 
ly, "Yes,  Dad,  everything's  all  right. 
This  should  be  a  fine  boy— he's  an 
awful  lot  of  trouble." 

A  couple  of  hours  later  Jack  ar- 
rived.   He  weighed  close  to  eleven 


■'I 


It's  only  a  few  miles  from  Dad's  home 
in  North  Hollywood  to  Jack's  in  The 
Valley.  One  or  the  other  makes  it  daily. 


pounds,  but  barring  his  debut  into 
the  world  he  wasn't  so  much  trouble. 
He  slept  20  out  of  24  hotirs  for  the 
first  six  months.  He  must  have  been 
saving  up  his  energy  for  the  noise 
that  was  to  come  later  on. 

I  was  working  for  a  trade  journal 
along  about  this  time  and  we  lived 
around  Moosejaw  (which  Jack  later 
adopted  as  a  nickname  for  himself) 
until  I  was  transferred  to  Des 
Moines,  Iowa.  Then  Mrs.  Carson  put 
her  foot  down.  When  Mrs.  Carson 
puts  her  foot  down,  even  today,  aU 
the  Carson  men  take  notice.  What 
she  said  at  the  time  was  that  I  could 
choose  between  my  work  and  my 
family.  I  liked  my  family,  so  we 
moved  to  Milwaukee  where  I  went 
into  the  insurance  business  and  Jack 
went   into    (Continued   on   paye  76) 


Quote  from  Jack  Carson,  age  seven:  "I 


can't  tell  a  lie — and  I'm  not  gonna  tell  the 


truth !"  What  can  you  do  with  a  boy 


like  that?    Jack's  father  still  doesn't  know 


By  E.  L.  "KIT"  CARSON 


The  Jack  Carson  Show  is  heard  every  Friday  night  at 
8,  EST,  on  Columbia   Broadcasting    System   stations. 


29 


AT  first  I  was  going  to  tell  the  fel- 
low I  wasn't  in.  That  I  couldn't 
write  anything  about  Jack  Car- 
son because  I  am  not  a  writer.  But 
then  I  got  to  thinking  that  I've 
written  a  lot  of  insurance  in  my 
time.  That's  pretty  good  writing — 
keeps  people  from  dying  broke  and 
it's  a  lot  of  good  all  around. 

So  I'm  going  to  write  about  Jack 
Carson.  I  think  it's  about  time  some 
editor  dug  up  a  new  slant  on  chil- 
dren. You  remember  the  little 
trouble  George  Washington  had  with 
his  son  and  how  the  boy  said, 
"Father,  I  cannot  tell  a  lie.  1  chopped 
down  the  cherry  tree  with  my  little 
hatchet." 

I  had  the  same  experience  when 
Jack  Carson  was  about  seven  years 
old,  except  that  it  had  nothing  to  do 


with  a  cherry  tree.  The  boy  came 
scooting  home  one  night  with  blood 
streaming  out  of  his  forehead.  After 
the  doctor  left,  I  said,  "That's  a  nasty 
gash  you've  got  in  your  head,  son. 
Tell  me  what  happened.  Tell  me  the 
truth." 

At  that  age,  Jack  was  acutely 
aware  of  the  Washington  plan.  He 
looked  at  me  stubbornly  and  replied, 
"Dad,  I  can't  tell  a  lie — and  I'm  not 
gonna  tell  the  truth  either." 

What  can  you  do  with  a  boy  like 
that?  I  didn't  do  anything.  Five 
years  later  he  opened. up  one  day. 
"Dad,"  he  said,  "remember  the  day 
I  came  home  with  that  big  cut  on  my 
head?  Well,  I  was  helping  Bobby, 
the  boy  next  door,  chop  wood.  We 
had  a  fight.  He  said  he'd  chop  my 
head  off.    I  told  him  he  didn't  dare, 


ni 


n    9 


W 


and  that's  where  I  was  wrong!" 

My  first  memory  of  Jack  goes  back 
to  a  few  hours  before  his  birth.  This 
was  at  our  home  in  Carmen,  Mani- 
toba, Canada,  at  a  time  when  blessed 
events  usually  did  not  call  for  a  trip 
to  the  hospital.  The  doctor  had  been 
there  for  more  than  an  hour,  while 
I  paced  up  and  dowm  in  the  living 
room,  engaged  in  the  usual  useless 
business   of   husbandly   anticipation. 

Finally  I  had  to  say  something.  I 
went  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs  and 
called  up,  "Is  everything  all  right 
up  there?" 

My  wife's  voice  called  back  faint- 
ly, "Yes,  Dad,  everything's  all  right. 
This  should  be  a  fine  boy — he's  an 
awful  lot  of  trouble." 

A  couple  of  hours  later  Jack  ar- 
rived.   He  weighed  close  to  eleven 


Il*8  only  a  few  miles  from  Dad's  home 
in  North  Hollywood  lo  Jack's  in  The 
Valley.  One  or  ihe  other  makes  it  daily. 


pounds,  but  barring  his  debut  into 
the  world  he  wasn't  so  much  trouble. 
He  slept  20  out  of  24  hours  for  the 
first  six  months.  He  must  have  been 
saving  up  his  energy  for  the  noise 
that  was  to  come  later  on. 

I  was  working  for  a  trade  journal 
along  about  this  time  and  we  lived 
around  Moosejaw  (which  Jack  later 
adopted  as  a  nickname  for  himself) 
until  I  was  transferred  to  Des 
Moines,  Iowa.  Then  Mrs.  Carson  put 
her  foot  down.  When  Mrs.  Carson 
puts  her  foot  down,  even  today,  all 
the  Carson  men  take  notice.  What 
she  said  at  the  time  was  that  I  could 
choose  between  my  work  and  my 
family.  I  liked  my  family,  so  we 
moved  to  Milwaukee  where  I  went 
into  the  insurance  business  and  Jack 
went   into    (CoTittnued   on   page  76) 


m 


Father-and-son 
competition  runs 
rife,  but  friendly. 
Cribbage:  honors 
even.  Golf:  "My 
son  is  my  undo- 
ing," Kit  mourns. 


Quote  from  Jack  Carson,  age  seven:  "1 


can't  tell  a  lie — and  I'm  not  gonna  leli  the 


truth!"   What  can  you  do  with  a  hoy 


like  that?    Jack's  father  still  doesn't  know 


By  E.  L.  "KIT"  CARSON 


The  Jack  Curaon  Show  in  heard  every  Friday  niglit  at 
8,  EST,  on  Columbiu   BroadciutinK    Symttim   atutions. 


Reading  is  a  delight  to  Nancy  and  her  husband.   The 
collection — still     growing     includes     400     cookbooks. 


e 


omfb  cm 


d  wit 


Nancy  practices  at  home  what  she 
preaches  on  the  air — in  a  house  boasting 
a  secret  stairway,  a  roofless  bath! 

BY  LLEWELLYN  MILLER 


The  Package  Parents  Plan 
• — packages  of  useful  items 
for  war-orphaned  children 
— was  Nancy's  idea  for  those 
who  want  to  help,  but  can- 
not  afford  adoption    costs. 


Billy  and  Alice  are  very 
much  in  evidence  in'  all 
household-  activity.  Their 
parents  m'ake  a  point  of 
letting  nothing  interfere 
with  weekday  family  meals. 


Nancy  Craig  is  heard  Monday  through  Friday,   1:1S  P.M.    EST,  on  ABC. 


^^^^^i*^ 


NANCY  CRAIG'S  husband  opened  the  door  of  their 
Long  Island  home  to  a  caller  one  morning,  and,  after 
a  short  conference,  came  to  Nancy  with  a  startling 
question. 

"Tell  me  frankly,  dear,"  he  said.  "Are  you  secretly  a 
member  of  the  Nazi  Bund?" 

The  lady  who  holds  some  millions  of  housewives  in 
thrall  every  day  with  her  advice  on  homemaking,  child 
care,  cooking,  fashion  and  the  woman's  angle  on  house, 
garden,  education,  books,  theater,  health  and  public  wel- 
fare in  general  looked  at  him  aghast. 

"What's  the  joke?"  she  said. 

"No  joke,"  said  her  husband.  "There's  a  man  here 
from  the  FBI.  He  is  serious.  He  really  wants  to  know." 

With  that,  Nancy  went  down  to  deal  with  just  one 
more  hilarious  emergency  brought  to  her  by  her  extraor- 
dinary house  in  the  country. 

Needless  to  say,  the  FBI  cleared  up  the  mystery  in  a 
huny  after  a  few  words  with  the  one  hundred  percent 
American  Nancy  and  her  radio  executive  husband,  and 
after  an  astonished  tour  of  the  house. 

Eventually,  the  reason  for  his  oflficial  interest  was 
traced  to  a  party  that  Nancy  had  given  in  her  home  for 
the  girls   at   the  studio.    They   were   impressed,   as   is 


The  fireplace,  made  of  boulders,  is  a  joy — and  so  is 
Margaret,    the    maid,    familiar    to    listeners    as    well. 


,;^ 


"00^. 


e 


mnib  m 


d  [luit 


Nancy  practices  at  home  what  she 
preaches  on  the  air — in  a  house  boasting 
a  secret  stairway,  a  roofless  bath! 

BY  LLEWELLYN  MILLER 


Reading  is  n  deliglit  to  Nnncy  and  her  husband.   The 
collection — still     growing     includes    400     cookbooks. 


The  Package  Parents  Plan 
— packages  of  useful  items 
for  war-orphaned  children 
— was  Nancy's  idea  for  those 
who  want  to  help,  but  can- 
not  afford   adoption   costs. 


Billy   and   Alice   a 
much    in    evidence 
household,  activity.    Then 
parents    m'ake    a    i^^int  o 
letting     nothing     imerleK 
with  weekday  family  meals. 


NANCY  CRAIG'S  husband  opened  the  door  o£  their 
Long  Island  home  to  a  caller  one  morning,  and,  after 
a  short  conference,  came  to  Nancy  with  a  startling 
question. 

"Tell  me  frankly,  dear,"  he  said.  "Are  you  secretly  a 
member  of  the  Nazi  Bund?" 

The  lady  who  holds  some  millions  of  housewives  in 
thrall  every  day  with  her  advice  on  homemaking,  child 
care,  cooking,  fashion  and  the  woman's  angle  on  house, 
garden,  education,  books,  theater,  health  and  public  wel- 
fare in  general  looked  at  him  aghast. 

"What's  the  joke?"  she  said. 

"No  joke,"  said  her  husband.  "There's  a  man  here 
from  the  FBI.  He  is  serious.   He  really  wants  to  know." 

With  that,  Nancy  went  down  to  deal  with  just  one 
more  hilarious  emeigency  brought  to  hei  by  her  extraor- 
dinary house  in  the  country. 

Needless  to  say,  the  FBI  cleared  up  the  inystery  in  a 
hurry  after  a  few  words  with  the  one  hundred  percent 
American  Nancy  and  her  radio  executive  husband,  and 
after  an  astonished  tour  of  the  house. 

Eventually,  the  reason  for  his  official  interest  was 
traced  to  a  party  that  Nancy  had  given  in  her  home  for 
the  girls   at   the   studio.    They   were   impressed,   as   is 


The  fireplace,  made  of  boulders,  itt  n  joy — and  so  is 
Margaret,    the    niuid,    fuiniliar    to    listeners    as    well. 


.Xanoj  Craig  ii  lizard  Monday  tlirougli  Friday,    1:15  P.M.    EST,   .'"  ^S"" 


Learning  how  to  dress  herself  is  a 
serious  business  for  a  young  lady. 


yjmvb 
wndj 


everyone  who  sees  it,  and  were  still  talking 
about  its  astonishing  features  the  next  day — 
about  the  fortress-thick  walls,  about  the  seven 
exits  from  the  living  room  via  concealed  doors, 
stairs,  balconies,  terraces  and  windows;  about 
the  hidden  closets  and  the  glass-roofed  shower. 
It  was  during  the  war,  and  one  of  the  listen- 
ers, more  excitable  than  sensible,  heard  just 
enough  to  send  her  rushing  to  the  FBI. 

"Nancy  Craig  has  secret  doors  in  her  house!" 
she  told  them.  "And  the  roof  of  her  bathroom 
comes  right  off!  You  better  find  out  why! 
They  could  hide  spies — send  up  balloons  or 
pigeons — signal  to  enemy  airplanes — goodness 
knows  what!" 

As  the  FBI  man  found  out,  many  of  the 
closets  are  concealed  behind  panels,  but  they 
contained  nothing  more  subversive  than  a 
little  boy's  tricycle,  sheet  music,  canned  goods 
or  wool  for  Nancy's  favorite  needlework,  petit 
point.  He  left  after  an  hour's  tour  of  one  of 
the  most  unusual  hotxses  ever ,  seen  north, 
south,  east  or  in  the  movies,  assured  that  its 
occupants  lived  a  life  above  suspicion,  but 
stunned  by  their  background,  as  you  would 
be,  too,*  if  you  visited  Nancy  Craig  at  home. 

The  house  was  built  by  Rolf  Armstrong,  the 
famous  illiistrator,  after  his  own  design  and 
for  his  own  use.  He  loves  it  so  much  that  he 
will  not  sell  it,  but  he  has  rented  it  to  Nanny 
and  her  husband  for  the  last  eight  years.  It  is 
half  an  hour's  easy  driving  from  the  studio 
in  Rockefeller  Center  where  Nancy  broadcasts 
over  ABC  stations  each  weekday  at  1: 15  EST. 
The  approach  is  between  glorious  trees  that 
completely  conceal  it  from  the  road.   It  over- 


looks a  tidewater  lake,  lovely  wooded  shores 
and  a  sweep  of  Long  Island  Sovmd.  Its  ex- 
terior is  stone  and  so  is  much  of  its  interior — 
stone  set  in  cement  for  steps  and  stairs  and 
floors,  and  fireplaces  built  of  gigantic  boulders. 
Its  beams  are  huge  hand-adzed  timbers,  and 
much  of  its  furniture  has  been  carved  out  of 
enormous  slabs  of  handsome  wood,  polished 
until  it  shines  like  mirrors.  One  whole  side 
of  the  two-story  living  room  is  a  vast  half 
circle  of  glass  overlooking  the  Soixnd,  and  one 
of  the  showers  really  does  have  a  glass  roof. 

It  is  a  beautiful  shower,  lined  with  dark 
blue  tile.  Overhead  is  the  blue  sky  above  wav- 
ing branches  of  an  apple  tree-  The  tree  was 
the  inspiration  for  the  glass  room.  Mr.  Arm- 
strong loved  its  blossoms  so  much  that  he 
installed  the  transparent  top  so  that  he 
could  watch  the  clouds  and  the  flower-laden 
branches  while  taking  his  morning  shower. 
Needless  to  say,  house  guests  fight  to  be  as- 
signed to  it.  Also,  needless  to  say,  it  is  quite 
respectable,  and  spies  look  neither  in  or  out 
of  it. 

The  way  they  came  across  the  house  is  a 
story  in  itself.  Nancy  and  the  man  she  always 
calls  "my  best  beau"  on  the  air  had  driven 
out  to  the  countx-y  one  Sunday  to  look  for  a 
little  weekend  cottage  for  the  summer.  Her 
husband  dresses  with  the  quiet  conservatism 
that  becomes  a  successful  executive,  but  on 
that  particular  day,  because  the  wind  was  high 
and  his  hat  would  not  stay  on,  he  had  bor- 


. 


rowed  Nancy's  bei'et  to  keep  his  hair  from 
blowing  across  his  eyes. 

It  gave  him  a  definitely  rakish  air.  To 
Nancy's  secret  amiisement,  he  forgot  that  he 
had  it  on  when  they  entered  the  office  of  a 
real  estate  agent.   The  agent  took  one  look. 

"I  have  just  the  house  for  you!"  he  cried. 
"I've  been  waiting  for  artists  to  come  along. 
It  is  just  the  place  for  a  painter." 

Her  husband  gave  Nancy  a  baffled  glance. 
Secretly  convulsed,  she  kept  a  straight  face 
as  the  realtor  \yaved  them  into  the  astovmding 
stone  house  on  the  shore  and  continued  to 
sell  the  "artist"  its  north  light,  its  paintable 
views,  its  seclusion  from  the  distractions  of 
city  life. 

It  was  not  at  all  the  simple  little  vacation 
place  they  had  in  mind,  but  they  could  not 
resist  a  thorough  inspection,  and  as  they 
looked  their  interest  in  it  grew.  It  was  far 
too  big  for  two  people,  but  it  was  the  right 
distance  from  their  weekday  jobs  in  New 
York.  The  garden  was  beautiful.  The  house 
was  cool.  The  view  was  superb.  They  could 
not  resist  the  combination,  and  they  took  it 
for  the  summer. 

After  living  in  New  York  apartments,  it 
was  a  delight  to  have  plenty  of  room  for  visit- 
ing family,  and  friends.  They  found  themselves 
hiirrying  to  it  every  evening  after  the  swelter- 
ing day  in  New  York.  After  Billy,  now  nearly 
six,  and  Alice,  three,  came  along,  the  extra 
space   was   heaven-  (Continued   on   page  74) 


Nancy  always  manages  to  be  there  to  hear  the  children's 
prayers.  Her  mother,  below,  has  lived  with  Nancy  for  the 
past   three   years,    shares    her    delight    in    fine   needlework. 


14 


amjob 


C 


everyone  who  sees  it,  and  were  still  talking 
about  its  astonishing  features  the  next  day — 
about  the  fortress-thick  walls,  about  the  seven 
exits  from  the  living  room  via  concealed  doors, 
stairs,  balconies,  terraces  and  windows;  about 
the  hidden  closets  and  the  glass-roofed  shower. 
It  was  during  the  war,  and  one  of  the  listen- 
ers, more  excitable  than  sensible,  heard  just 
enough  to  send  her  rushing  to  the  FBI. 

"Nancy  Craig  has  secret  doors  in  her  house!" 
she  told  them.  "And  the  roof  of  her  bathroom 
comes  right  off!  You  better  find  out  why! 
They  could  hide  spies — send  up  balloons  or 
pigeons — signal  to  enemy  airplanes — goodness 
knows  what!" 

As  the  FBI  man  found  out,  many  of  the 
closets  are  concealed  behind  panels,  but  they 
contained  nothing  more  subversive  than  a 
little  boy's  tricycle,  sheet  music,  canned  goods 
or  wool  for  Nancy's  favorite  needlework,  petit 
Ijoint.  He  left  after  an  hour's  tour  of  one  of 
the  most  unusual  houses  ever ,  seen  north, 
south,  east  or  in  the  movies,  assured  that  its 
occupants  lived  a  life  above  suspicion,  but 
stunned  by  their  background,  as  you  would 
be,  too, 'if  you  visited  Nancy  Craig  at  home. 

The  house  was  built  by  Rolf  Armstrong,  the 
famous  illustrator,  after  his  own  design  and 
for  his  own  use.  He  loves  it  so  much  that  he 
will  not  sell  it,  but  he  has  rented  it  to  Nancy 
and  her  husband  for  the  last  eight  years.  It  is 
half  an  hour's  easy  driving  from  the  studio 
in  Rockefeller  Center  where  Nancy  broadcasts 
over  ABC  stations  each  weekday  at  1: 15  EST. 
The  approach  is  between  glorious  trees  that 
completely  conceal  it  from  the  road.   It  over- 


looks a  tidewater  lake,  lovely  wooded  liores 
and  a  sweep  of  Long  Island  Sound.  ex- 

terior is  stone  and  so  is  much  of  its  inl.  lor— 
stone  set  in  cement  for  steps  and  sta>  and 
floors,  and  fireplaces  built  of  gigantic  bo  ders. 
Its  beams  are' huge  hand-adzed  timbe  and 
much  of  its  furniture  has  ))een  carved  Jut  ot 
enormous  slabs  of  handsome  wood,  p  lished 
until  it  shines  like  mirrors.  One  who'i  side 
of  the  two-story  living  room  is  a  v£i;r  half 
circle  of  glass  overlooking  the  Sound,  a  i  one 
of  the  showers  really  does  have  a  gls      I'oof. 

It  is  a  beautiful  shower,  lined  witi  dark 
blue  tile.  Overhead  is  the  blue  sky  abo\  wav- 
ing branches  of  an  apple  tree.  The  tj \e  was 
the  inspiration  for  the  glass  room.  Mr  Arm- 
strong loved  its  blossoms  so  much  that  lie 
installed  the  transparent  top  so  tliut  he 
could  watch  the  clouds  and  the  flower -laden 
branches  while  taking  his  morning  shower. 
Needless  to  say,  house  guests  fight  to  be  as- 
signed to  it.  Also,  needless  to  say,  it  is  qm'^ 
respectable,  and  spies  look  neither  in  or  out 
of  it. 

The  way  they  came  across  the  house  is  a 
story  in  itself.  Nancy  and  the  man  she  always 
calls  "my  best  beau"  on  the  air  had  driven 
out  to  the  country  one  Sunday  to  look  for  a 


little  weekend  cottage  for  the  summer. 


Her 


husband  dresses  with  the  quiet  conservatism 
that  becomes  a  successful  executive,  but  o 
that  particular  day,  because  the  wind  was  wg" 
and  his  hat  would  not  stay  on,  he  had  bov- 


\ 


rowed  Nancy's  beret  to  keep  his  hair  from 
blowing  across  his  eyes. 

It  gave  him  a  definitely  rakish  air.  To 
Nancy's  secret  amusement,  he  forgot  that  he 
had  it  on  when  they  entered  the  office  of  a 
real  estate  agent.   The  agent  took  one  look. 

"I  have  just  the  house  for  you!"  he  cried. 
"I've  been  waiting  for  artists  to  come  along. 
It  is  just  the  place  for  a  painter," 

Her  husband  gave  Nancy  a  baffled  glance. 
Secretly  convulsed,  she  kept  a  straight  face 
as  the  realtor  waved  them  into  the  astounding 
stone  house  on  the  shore  and  continued  to 
sell  the  "artist"  its  north  light,  its  paintable 
views,  its  seclusion  from  the  distractions  of 
city  lite. 

It  was  not  at  all  the  simple  little  vacation 
place  they  had  in  mind,  but  they  could  not 
resist  a  thorough  inspection,  and  as  they 
looked  their  interest  in  it  grew.  It  was  far 
too  big  for  two  people,  but  it  was  the  right 
distance  from  their  weekday  jobs  in  New 
York.  The  garden  was  beautiful.  The  house 
was  '.jol.  The  view  was  superb.  They  could 
not  r  sist  the  combination,  and  they  took  it 
for  (lit.  summer, 

Ai!  I-  living  in  New  York  apartments,  it 
Was  ,1  delight  to  have  plenty  of  room  for  visit- 
'ig  (i .  aily.  and  friends.  They  found  themselves 
(lurry  I  ng  to  it  every  evening  after  the  swelter- 
'"g  day  in  New  York.  After  Billy,  now  nearly 
^')<.  t  id  Ahce,  three,  came  along,  the  extra 
space    was   heaven- (Continued    on   page  74) 


Nnncy  ulwnys  iniinu(;eH  tu  he  there  to  hear  the  children's 
prayers.  Her  mother,  below,  hu8  lived  with  Nancy  for  the 
past    three   years,    shares    her    delight    in    fine    needlework. 


-^^. 


7Z 


•^     i 


LIZ,  eldest  daughter  of  minister  RICHARD  DENNIS, 
is  housekeeper,  sermon-typist,  and  holder-together 
of  the  famrly.  She  keeps  track  of  money  (when  there 
is  any),  cooks,  sews,  mothers  the  other  children,  and 
even  finds  time  to  be  nice  to  wives  of  the  deacons! 
(Liz:    Margaret    Draper;    Richard:    Bill   Smith) 


<\ 


nci 


Here  are  some  newcomers  to  join 

your  daytime  radio  friends.    The  Dennises 

may  startle  you,  worry  you, 

make  you  smile — bvU  if  ever  you've  been 

part  of  a  family  yourself, 

you'll  understand,  and  like,  this  one 


^<\ 


</ 


GRAYLING— the  Dennis  family's 
only  boy — is  restless,  charming, 
spoiled.  He  writes  poetry,  plays 
the  violin,  has  a  long  string  of 
girl  friends  who  adore  his  flashing 
eyes  and  his  wonderful  tennis,  and 
drinks  too  much.  But  none  of 
these  activities  has.  helped  Gray,  at 
twenty-three,  to  "find  himself." 
(Bill     Redfield     plays     Grayling) 


ALTHEA  is  the  Dennis  family's 
allotment  of  glamor.  Nineteen 
and  single-minded,  Althea  has  her 
eyes  on  Hollywood;  endless,  ex- 
pensive self-development  lessons 
in  dancing  and  singing  are  de- 
signed to  pave  her  way  filmward. 
Althea's  neither  very  talented  nor 
very  bright — ^but  lovely  to  look  at. 
(Althea  is  played  by  Jay  Meredith) 


The  Brighter  Day  ia  heard  Monday  through  Friday  at  10:45  A.M.  EST,  on  NBC. 


35 


BARBARA— who  is  naturally 
called  Bobby — is,  in  a  way,  the 
strangest  member  of  the  Den- 
nis family.  At  fourteen,  Bobby 
ought  to  be  beset  by  adoles- 
cent problems.  But — and  this 
is  the  strange  part — she  isn't. 
She's  placid,  obedient,  uncom- 
plicated— and  if  she  does  eat 
too  much  of  everything,  that 
hurts  only  her  own  figure, 
(played  by  Lorna  Lynn) 


(/ 


PATSY  is  a  forthright  sixteen- 
year-old  who  would  rather 
have  been  born  a  boy — she 
thinks.  But  Liz  is  sure  that 
some  day  Patsy  will  shed  her 
horn-rims,  take  a  good  look  at 
herself  in  the  mirror  and  be 
quite  glad  she's  female,  after 
all.  In  the  meantime,  blunt, 
honest  Patsy  is  Liz's  most  im- 
portant aide  in  family  crises, 
(played  by  Pat  Holsey) 


36 


The  Dennises  are  newcomers  to  the  little  tovv^n  of  Three  Rivers;  they  moved  in  just  a  few  months  ago.  But  they're 
already  very  much  a  part  of  the  town's  warm,  friendly  life.  Thoughtful  gifts  are  always  arriving  at  the  big,  dilapidated 
Dennis  house  from  parishioners  who  know  that  the  family — or  rather,  Liz,  who  does  all  the  managing — is  having  a 
hard  time  getting  along  on  a  minister's  small  salary.  Wherever  there  are  young  folks,  of  course,  there  are  problems; 
but  with  Three  Rivers — and  Liz — ^behind  them,  the  other  Dennises  don't  worry  about  the  future.  Except  that,  like  all 
of    us,   they    spend    a    lot    of    time    wondering    whether — and    when — they'll    get    the    things    they're    hoping    for. 


37 


IMKIEA 


J 


^ouA  *fUM€f  titHC^  ^(AC  <fcu  ^a^Ct^^  ? 


By  IRENE  BEASLEY 


1 


I  ALWAYS  like  to  think  of  Grand  Slam's  broadcasts  as  one  big,  nationwide  living  room,  with  neighbors  joining 
in  the  game  everywhere. 
But  many  of  you,  for  good  reasons,  can't  get  to  our  New  York  studios,  and  niany  of  you  have  written  that 
while  listening  at  home  you  answered  the  questions  better  than  our  contestants. 

Well,  here's  your  chance  to  play,  and  win  prizes  wherever  you  are.  Each  of  the  following  question  groups  has 
been  presented  on  the  Grand  Slam  broadcasts.  Follow  the  instructions — tell  us  why  you  like  to  play  Grand  Slam — 
then  send  in  your  answers.  You  may  make  a  Grand  Slam! 


FIRST  PRIZE  .  .  .  $100 


NEXT  TEN  PRIZES 


EACH,  $10 


WINNERS  WILL  BE  ANNOUNCED  IN 
AUGUST  RADIO  MIRROR 

Watch  for  Irene  Beasley^s  picture  on  the  cover 


RULES— PLEASE  OBSERVE  CAREFULLY: 

1.  All  questions  must  be  completed.  Your  entry  will  be  judged  on 
correctness  and  neatness  of  your  answers.  In  the  event  of  a  tie^  the 
winners  will  be  determined  by  originality  and  aptness  of  thought  of 
their  statements,  completing,  in  twenty-five  words  or  less,  ^^I  like  to 
play  Grand  Slam  because  ..." 

2.  Submit  your  entry  on  a  separate  sheet  of  paper  with  answers 
clearly  typed  or  printed.  Do  not  repeat  questions  on  your  entry; 
give  only  answers.  At  right  is  an  example  of  the  proper  way  to  sub- 
mit your  entry,  with  correct  answers  given  you  for  the  sample  group 
of  questions. 

3.  Clip  the  box  on  the  last  page  and  fill  in  your  name  and  address. 
Then  finish,  in  twenty-five  words  or  less,  the  statement,  "I  like  to 
play  Grand  Slam  because—."  Attach  this  box  to  your  entry. 

4.  Contest  closes  April  30,  1949,  and  entries  must  be  postmarked  not 
later  than  midnight  of  that  date. 

5.  In  case  of  ties,  duplicate  prizes  ivill  be  given. 

6.  No  entry  will  be  returned,  and  decisions  of  the  editors  of  Radio 
Mirror,  who  will  be  the  judges,  will  be  final. 


Here  is  a  bonns  of  five  tricks  for  you,  and  an  example  of 
how  to  submit  your  answers.  Print  or  type  only  the  answers 
as  below: 

1.  Wliat  holidays  do  these  represent?  Each  picture  represents 
a  well-known  song  title.    Name  the  song. 


Your  answer  should  look  like  this: 


(a) 


Wti/TE    CM^/.STM/^.S 


(b)  F/q.sTFft   P;)RAPf 

(d)  WFfijQif^c-  or  rHB  c-Rf:tN 


38 


2.  Pa's  Photo  Album.  Here  are  well-known  song  titles,  illus- 
trated by  the  pictures.  In  each  title,  one  or  more  words  are 
omitted.  List  the  omitted  words  to  complete  the  titles  of  these 
well-known  songs. 


(a)  Pa  and  his  girl  friend  sit  "By  the   ,  By 

the " 

(b)  The   quartet   harmonizes   an    old   favorite,   "Wait   Till 
The    Shines,   " 

(c)  Pa    takes    his    girl    for    an    evening    boat    ride    "On 

Bay" 

(d)  Pa    masquerades    as    a    Thanksgiving    gobbler,    doing 
"The Trot" 

(e)  On  a   bicycle  built  for  two.  Pa   takes   his   girl,  whose 
name  is  " "  for  a  ride. 


5.  When    it    comes   to    composing    the    following   melodies — 
whodunit? 

(a)  "Fantasie    Impromptu" — ^Whodunit:    Chaminade,    Cho- 
pin or  Chaminez? 
(h)  "Prelude     in     G     Minor" — Whodunit:     Rachmaninoff. 
JLubiaatein  or  ^msky-Koi^sakoff? 

(c)  "Malaguena" — Whodunit:  Lavalle,  Lecuono  or  Liszt? 

(d)  "Kamenoi  Ostrow" — Whodunit:  Rubinstein,  Reinhold, 
or  Rimsky-Korsakoff? 

(c)   "Hungarian  Dance  No.  5" — Whodunit:  Bach,  Beethoven 
or  Brahms? 


6.  (a)   What  bird  was  asked,  "Why  do  you  sit  singing  'Willow, 
tit-willow,  tit-willow'?" 

(b)  What  bird   went   to   sea   mth   a  pussycat? 

(c)  What  bird  awoke  me  last  night  when  all  was  still? 

(d)  To  what  bird  are  we  urged  to  listen? 
(c)  To  what  bird  are  we  urged  to  hark? 

All  of  these  birds  occur  in  well-known  songs  or  verses. 


3.  List  the  musical  terms_  which   can  be   substituted  for  the 

blanks  in: 

Recipe  For  Cherry  Pie:  (a)  and  seed  one  quart  of 
cherries,  (b)  one  cup  of  sugar,  4  tablespoons  of  flour, 
and  mix  with  cherries,  (c)  a  9-inch  pie  tin  with  pastry. 
Add  the  mixture;  (d)  with  butter.  Cover  with  top  crust; 
trim  edges  of  pastry  with  a  (e)  knife.  Bake  45  minutes 
in  a  hot  oven. 


7.  These  descriptions  will  help  you  list  your  answers  to  fill  the 
blanks  in  the  following  well-known  song  titles: 

(a)  A  matter  of  donation  of  osculation:  "Gimmie  A  Little 


(b)  A  trio  of  utterances:  " Little  Words" 

(c)  Feeling    slightly    free    of    obligations:    "A    Little    Bit 


(d)  Snuggle  with  slightly  greater  proximity:  ". . 
Up  A  Little  Closer" 

(e)  Concerning  a  small,  elderly  woman:  "Little 
Ladv" 


4.  Play  butler  and  announce  the  guests  shown  in  the  pictures. 
They've  come  to  the  masquerade  dressed  to  represent  well- 
known  song  titles.  List  the  missing  words  indicated  by  the 
blanks  in  the  titles  Lelow: 


(a)  "Mr.  Gallagher  and  Mr. 

(b)  " Bill,  The  Sailor" 

(c)  "Steamboat   " 

(d  "Poor   ". " 

(e)  " Bailey" 


8.  Five  children  played  a  musical  race,  choosing  the  same 
piece  of  miisic,  and  starting  exactly  the  same  moment,  but 
each  child  played  in  a  different  tempo.  Name  the  order  in 
which  the  children  finished  if  each  played  in  the  tempo  in- 
dicated below, 

George   played    ALLEGRO. 

Jack  played  ADAGIO. 

Walter  played  PRESTO. 

Sammje  played  ALLEGRETTO. 

Horton  played  ANDANTE. 


9.  Here  are  the  incomplete  titles  of  famous  compositions  often 


39 


heard  at  weddings.   Composers  are  given,  clues  are  in  the  pic- 
tures. List  the  words  which  complete  the  titles: 


eifrs  Grand  SJam  in  action,  just  as  you 
hear  it  M-F,  11:30  A.M.,  EST,  on  CBS,, 


(a)  Wagner:  "Here Bride" 

(b)  MacDoweU:  "To  A  Wild " 

(c)  De  Koven:  "O  Promise " 

(d)  Cadman:  "At " 

(e)  Mendelssohn:  " March" 


10.  List  your  corrections  of  the  five  mistakes  in  the  following 

paragraph: 

Gilbert  and  Sullivan  wrote  many  light  operas.  The  music 
of  W.  S.  Gilbert  was  very  inspiring,  and  combined  with 
the  clever  lyrics  of  Sir  Arthur  Sullivan,  they  created  a 
pattern  individual  unto  themselves.  Arthur  Sullivan  also 
wrote  music,  and  is  famous  for  such  compositions  as 
"The  Lost  Chord."  Among  contemporary  composers,  I 
like  George  Gershwin  and  Ira  Berlin.  I  especially  like 
Gershwin's  "Rhapsody  in  Blue"  and  "Easter  Parade"; 
Berlin's  "Chickery  Chick"  is  my  favorite  nonsense  song. 


::3m 


11.  Each  picture  represents  a  well-known  song  which  Mother 
remembers  on  Mother's  Day.  The  pictures  will  give  you  clues 
to  the  words  left  blank  in  each  of  the  well-known  song  titles 
Mother  remembers.  List  the  missing  words: 


^ 


(a)  "Rock-a-bye " 

(b)  "Just  a  Baby's At  Twilight" 

(c)  "School  " 

(d)  "On Day" 

(e)  "Somebody  Else  Is My  Place" 


12.  Here  are  five  musical  instruments  and  five  parts  of  in- 
struments, but  they  are  not  properly  matched.  List  the  in- 
struments together  with  the  part  that  belongs  to  each: 

(a)   Xylophone  (1)   Tuning  Peg 

(h)    Clarinet  (2) 

(c)  Snare  Drum 

(d)  Cornet 


(e)  Ukulele 


Water  Key 

(3)  Tone  Bar 

(4)  Tension  Key  Rod 

(5)  Reed 


(a)  The  composer  of  "Holiday  for  Strings"  is 

Rose. 

(b)  This  Rose,  associated  with  "The  Diamond  Horseshoe" 
and  husband  of  Eleanor  Holm,  is Rose. 

(c)  The  composer  of  "Deep  Purple"  is   de 

Rose. 

(d)  This  woman,  indicted  as  a  war  criminal,  was  an  unpopu- 
lar disc  jockey  during  World  War  II  called 

Rose. 

(e)  This  Rose,  of  Irish  descent,  was  a  popular  song  several 
years  ago.  She  is  "Rose " 


14.  Who  are  these  classical  composers? 

(a)  Little  Wolfgang,  so  they  say,  at  the  age  of  four  began 
to  play. 

(b)  Father  of  German  music  is  Johann;  always  near-sight- 
ed, became  a  blind  man. 

(c)  Ludwig  astounded  noble  and  rich;   even  though   deaf 
he  made  his  niche. 

(d)  And  then  there  was  Edward,  most  versatile;  his  compo- 
sitions have  a  Scandinavian  style. 

(e)  Franz  composed  peerless  song  and  melody;  never  com- 
pleted his  renowned  symphony. 


15.  The  lyrics  of  these  songs  are  poems  by  Rudyard  Kipling. 
List  the  missing  words  to  complete  the  song  titles: 


13.  Here  are  five  "Roses"  who  are  not  flowers — ^that  is,  "Rose" 
is  a  part  of  the  name  of  each  of  the  five  people  who  are  identi- 
fied by  the  following  pictures  and  descriptions.  List  the  parts 
which  are  omitted  which  will  complete  each  person's  name: 


f 

ur  ham) 

CWH.AM.; 

(a)  "On  the  Road  To ",  where  the  flying  fishes 

play. 

(b)  They're  hanging  "Danny "in  the  morning. 

(c)  You're  a  better  num.  than  I  am,  " Din." 


(d)  So  'ere's  to  you,  " Wuzzy",  at  your  'ome 

in  the  Soudan. 

(e)  These  " "go  movin'  up  and  down  again! 

There's  no  discharge  in  the  war! 


16.  What  author  wrote  each  of  the  following: 

(a)  "Alas  for  those  who  never  sing,  but  die  with  all  their 
music  in  them." 

(b)  "Show  me  the  home  wherein  music  dwells,  and  I  shall 
show  you  a  happy,  peaceful,  and  contented  home." 

(c)  "It's  the  song  ye  sing,  and  the  smiles  ye  wear,  that's 
making   the  sunshine   everywhere." 

(d)  "If  music  be  the  food  of  love,  play  on." 

(e)  "And  the  night  shall  be  filled  with  music. 
And  the  cares  that  infest  the  day 

Shall  fold  their  tents  like  the  Arabs, 
And  as  silently  steal  away." 


17.  Each  of  the  following  questions  can  be  answered  by  nam- 


ing a  part  of  the  human  body. 

(a)  What  is  the  lower  part  of  an  organ  pipe  called? 

(b)  One  who  plays  a  musical  instrument  without  knowledge 
of  music  is  said  to  play,  how? 

(c)  One  of  the  three  parts  of  any  note  is  called  what? 

(d)  What  is  that  part  of  a  violin  called  which  extends  from 
the  head  to  the  body? 

(e)  To  know  a  piece  of  music  so  well  that  one  can  perform 
it  without  use  of  the  music  means  that  one  can  perform 
it  by  what? 


18.  On  this  chart  are  some  ladies'  names.  Under  the  "M" 
column  are  pictured  clues  to  names  beginning  with  M,  each  of 
which  is  the  same  as  a  well-known,  one-word  song  title.  Below 
we  give  you  clues  from  the  lyrics  of  the  songs  themselves.  Can 
you  list  the  names  beginning  with  M,  which  are  also  the  titles 
of  the  songs. 

(a)   " ",  I'm  always  thinking  of  you. 

'")  " ",  the  dawn  is  breaking. 

(c)   " ",  /  still  hear  you  calling  me  back  to 

your  arms. 

(d^   " ",  -tvith  your  hair  of  raven  hue. 

'^'      ",  there's  a  minister  handy. 


■E3 

■a 

^^r  A  ^^^^^1     V    ^^^1 

[TJH 

Sally 

Louise 

Alice 

Ophelia 

(a) 

Sylvia 

Laura 

Agnes 

(bi 

Ora 

Sophie 

Lolita 

Arlene 

(c) 

Oliie 

Sarah 

Lillian 

Angeline 

Olga 

w 

Sue 

Lena 

Adeline 

i# 

Opal 

(e) 

On  this  box,  or  on  another  sheet  of  paper,  complete  the  statement  "I  like  to  play  Grand  Slam  because — "  in  25 
words  or  less.  Be  sure  to  give  us  your  name  and  full  address.  Send  statement  and  answers  to  Make  A  Grand  Slam, 
Radio  Mirror  Magazine,  205  East  42nd  Street,  New    York   17,  New  York. 


I    LIKE   TO    PLAY    GRAND    SLAM    BECAUSE 


UAUE 

STREET  ADDRESS 

ZONE 

CITY 

STATE 

41 


heard  at  weddings.   Compogers  are  given,  clues  are  in  the  pic- 
tares.  List  the  words  which  complete  the  titles: 


(a)   Wagner:  "Here Bride" 

(h)  MacDowell:  "To  A  Wild " 

(c)  De  Koven:  "O  Promise '' 

(d)  Cadman:  "At " 

(e)  Mendelssohn:  " March" 


10.  List  yoar  corrections  of  the  five  mistakes  in  the  following 

paragraph: 

Gilbert  and  Sullivan  wrote  many  light  operas.  The  music 
of  W.  S.  Gilbert  was  very  inspiring,  and  combined  with 
the  clever  lyrics  of  Sir  Arthur  Sullivan,  ihey  created  a 
pattern  individual  unto  themselves.  Arthur  Sullivan  also 
wrote  music,  and  is  famous  for  such  compositions  as 
"The  Lost  Chord."  Among  contemporary  composers,  I 
like  George  Gershwin  and  Ira  Berlin.  I  especially  like 
Gershwin's  "Rhapsody  in  Blue*'  and  "Easter  Parade"; 
Berlin's  "Chickery  Chick"  is  my  favorite  nonsense  song. 


11.  Each  picture  represents  a  well-known  song  which  Mother 
remembers  on  Mother's  Day.  The  pictures  will  give  you  clues 
to  the  words  left  blank  in  each  of  the  well-known  song  lilies 
Mother  remembers.  List  the  missing  words: 


(a)  "Rock-a-bye " 

(b)  "Just  a  Baby's At  Twilight" 

(c)  "School  " 

(d)  "On Day" 

(e)  "Somebody  Else  Ls My  Place" 


12.  Here  are  five  musical  instruments  and  five  parts  of  in- 
struments, but  Ihey  are  not  properly  matched.    List  the  in- 
struments together  with  the  part  that  belongs  to  each: 
(a)   Xylophone  {1)   Tuning  Peg 
(h)    Clarinet  (2)    Water  Key 

(c)  Hnnre  Drum  (3)  Tone  Bar 

(d)  Cornet  (4)  Tension  Key  Rod 

(e)  Ukulele  (5)  Reed 


13,  Here  are  five  "Roses"  who  are  not  flowers — that  is,  "Rose" 
is  n  part  of  the  name  of  each  of  the  five  people  who  are  identi- 
fied by  the  following  pictures  and  descriptions.  List  ihe  pans 
which  are  omitted  which  will  complete  each  person's  name: 


^> 


(a)  The  composer  of  "Holiday  for  Strings"  is 

Rose. 

(b)  This  Rose,  associated  with  "The  Diamond  Horseshoe 
and  husband  of  Eleanor  Holm,  is Rosr 

(c)  The  composer  of  "Deep  Purple"  is   .. 

Rose. 

(d)  This  woman,  indicted  as  a  war  criminal,  was  an  unpop' 

lar  disc  jockey  during  World  War  H  called 

Rose. 

(e)  This  Rose,  of  Irish  descent,  was  a  popular  song  sever  . 
years  ago.  She  is  "Rose " 


14.  Who  are  these  classical  composers? 

(a)  Little  Wolfgang,  so  they  say,  at  the  age  of  four  bep 
to  play. 

(b)  Father  of  German  music  is  Johann;  always  near-sigi 
ed,  became  a  blind  man. 

(c)  Ludwig  astounded   noble   and  rich;   even  though   d; 
he  made  his  niche. 

(d)  And  then  there  was  Edward,  most  versatile;  his  comp 
sitions  have  a   Scandinavian  style. 

(e)  Franz  composed  peerless  song  and  melody;  never  con 
pleted  his  renowned  symphony. 


15.  The  lyrics  of  these  songs  are  poems  by  Rudyard  Kiplin  ^ 
List  the  missing  words  to  complete  the  song  titles: 


(a)  "On  the  Road  To ".  ivhere  the  flying  fishe-i 

play. 

(b)  They're  lianging  "Danny "  in  the  morning. 

(c)  You're  a  better  man  than  I  am,  " Din." 


40 


(d)  So  'ere's  to  you,  " Wuzzy",  at  your  'ome 

in  the  Soudan. 

(e)  These  " "go  movin   up  and  doton  again! 

There's  no  discharge  in  the  tvar! 


16.  What  autlior  wrote  each  of  the  following: 

(a)   "Alas  for  those  who  never  sing,  but  die  with  all  their 
music  in  iheni." 

"Show  me  the  home  wherein  music  dwells,  and  I  shall 
show  you  a  happy,  peaceful,  and  contented  home." 
"It's  the  song  ye  sing,  and  the  smiles  ye  wear,  that's 
making  the  sunshine   everywhere." 
"If  music  be  the  food  of  love,  play  on." 
"And  the  night  shall  be  filled  with  music, 
And  the  cares  that  infest  the  day 
Shall  fold  their  tents  like  the  Arabs, 
And  as  silently  steal  away." 


(b) 


(c) 


(d) 
(e) 


17.  Each  of  the  following  questions  can  be  answered  by  nam- 


ing a  part  of  the  human  body. 

(a)  What  is  the  lower  part  of  an  organ  pipe  called? 

(b)  One  who  plays  a  musical  instrument  without  knowledge 
of  music  is  said  to  play,  how? 

(c)  One  of  the  three  parts  of  any  note  is  called  what? 

(d)  What  is  that  part  of  a  violin  called  which  extends  from 
the  head  to  the  body? 

(e)  To  know  a  piece  of  music  so  well  that  one  can  perform 
it  without  use  of  ilie  music  means  thai  one  can  perform 
it  by  what? 


18.  On  this  chart  are  some  ladies'  names.  Under  the  "M" 
column  are  pictured  clues  to  names  beginning  with  M,  each  of 
which  is  the  same  as  a  well-known,  one-word  song  title.  Below 
we  give  you  clues  from  the  lyrics  of  die  songs  themselves.  Can 
you  list  the  names  beginning  with  M,  which  are  also  the  titles 
of  the  songs. 

*  1'  *  " ",  Vm  always  thinking  of  you, 

^bl  " ",  the  daum  is  breaking. 

'***   " '\  /  still  hear  you  calling  me  back  to 

your  arms. 

(d)  " ",-ioif/i  your  lutir  of  raven  hue. 

(e)  " ",  there^s  n  minister  handy. 


On  fhis  box.   or  on  another  sheet  of  paper,  complete  the    statement    "I    like    to    play    ©rand    Slam    because—      tn 
words  or  less.    Be  sure  to  give  us  your  nome  and  full  address.    Send   statement  and   onswers  to    Make   A   ferond   »a 
Radio   Mirror   Magazine.   205  East  42nd   Street.    New    York    17.   New  York. 


1    LIKE    TO    PLAY    GRAND    SLAM    BECAUSE. 


STREET  ADDRESS 


ZONE 


STATE 


This  tired  old  box  is  an  iron-bound  chest. 

Souvenir  oi  the  Spanish  Main; 

If  I  were  you,  I  wouldn't  molest 

That  drawing;  (secret  plane 

The  FBI 

Might  buy). 

This  gadget's  a  trap,  placed  here  in  the  hope 

Of  catching  a  fox,  or  a  bear; 

That  broken-down  second-hand  telescope 

Is  strategically  balanced  there 

Should  a  spy 

Pass  by. 

Though  it's  something  less  than  picturesque. 
Let  the  light  touch  be  your  theme 
When  re-arionging  a  small  boy's  desk 
Or  his  dream. 

— Mary  McGrane  Powers 


H  had  been  hard,  at  first,  to  be  pine-toll, 
And    bound    by    mule-drown    plough   to    narrow 

field, 
When  his  young  hands  could  almost  feel  life's 

wall 
Crumble  before  book-learning,  break,  and  yield. 

But  now  his  eager  mouth  shaped  summer's  song 

As  he  looked  past  a  forty  acres'  girth 

To    thin-ribbed    children,    growing    brown    and 

strong, 
Because  long  furrows  reached  around  the  earth. 
— Anobel  Armour 


THEN  AND  NOW 

It's  not  so  long  ago  that  he 
Stood  barely  heart-high  to  my  knee; 
And  told  me  all  his  griefs  and  joys; 
His  plays  and  fights  with  other  boys. 

Today  his  pain  and  pleasure  swirls 
Around,  not  boys,  but  pretty  girls. 
It  is  the  same  yet  changed,  for  now. 
Ha  stands  fuH  heart-high  to  my  brow. 
— Enola  Chamberlin 


my 


FreST  LOVE 

When  I  had  tucked  her  safely  in  her  bed 
And  was  about  to  dim  the  last,  small  lamp, 
"Please  wait  a  moment,"  hesitantly  she  said, 
Til  tell  you  something;  .  .  .  I'm  in  love."    The 

clamp 
Of    fear    fell     swift     and     hard    within 

breast  .  ■  . 
"What  foolishness,"  I  was  about  to  say. 
Passing  the  moment  with  a  casual  jest. 
And  then  I  saw  her  eyes,  recalled  the  way 
(With  sweet  nostalgia  and  sudden  tears,) 
That  I  had  felt  once  .  .  .  long,  so  long  ago 
Before  the  rush  of  time,  the  sting  of  years 
When  first  love  brought  my  heart  and  soul  a 

glow- 
As  delicate  and  pure  as  candle-shine  .  .  . 
Good-night,  dear  little  girl  ...  in  love  .  .  . 

at   nine ! 

— Christie  Lund   Coles 


J^ 


THE  HOUSEWIFE 

Stranss    glowed    and   slaved   before    a 

stubborn  score; 
She  dreams,  with  apple  parings  on  the 

floor. 
Keats  spent  his  heart  on  one  immortal 

spell ; 
She  broods  above  her  bubbling  cherry 

jell. 
Was  Rembrandt  careful  of  his  tints,  his 

curves? 
No    single    flaw   may    mar   her   peach 

preserves. 
Hands  stained  by  grapes,  arms  filled 

with  jars  of  pears, 
Men  sec  in  her  no  angel  on  the  sCairs 
But  splendid  wraiths  drift  earthward 

from  the  skies 
To  watch  the  shining  wonder  of  her 

eyes 

— Geraldin^  Ross 


s 


VACATION  WEEK 

Oh,  Monday  is  well-water  in  a 
shiny  tin  dipper; 
Tuesday  is  a  bowl  of  grapes, 
Malaga,  Tokay; 
Wednesday  is  a  new-baked  loaf, 
'  brown  and  crisp  and  crusty; 
Thursday  is  a  daffodil,  smell- 
ing like  May! 
Friday's   a   yellow   bird   singing 
in  a  cherry-tree; 
Saturday  is  butterflies  drifting 
in  a  wreath; 
Sunday  is  a  toy  balloon,  slipping 
from  its  tether  ... 
And    Monday's    a    persimmon 
that  is  wry  between  the  teeth! 
— Louise  Owen 


■a'^ 


While  I  look  .out  my  window. 
My  fingers  deep  in  dough. 
And  dream  I  feel  the  mud  ogain 
I  played  in  long  ago. 

— isther  Baldwin  York 


s 


RADIO  MIRROR  WILL  PAY  FIFTY  DOLLARS 

for  the  best  original  poem  sent  in  each  month  by  a  reader. 
Five  dollars  will  be  paid  for  each  other  original  poem  used 
on  Between  the  Bookends  pages  in  Radio  Mirror.  Limit 
poems  to  30  lines,  address  to  Ted  Malone,  Radio  Mirror, 
203  E.  42,  N.  Y.  17,  N.  Y.  When  postage  is  enclosed, 
every  effort  will  be  made  to  return  unused  manuscripts. 
This  is  not  a  contest,  but  an  offer  to  purchase  poetry  for 
our  Bookends  pages. 


' 


) 


S 


V--., 


43 


Hello  There: 

Here  are  some  May  verses  ,  .  . 

for  everybody  who  likes 

.    spring  mornings   .   ,   .  apple 

blossoms  .  ,  .  sunshine  .  .  . 

little  boys  and  girts, 

and  especially,  mothers. 

Since  this  is  tlieir  month  .  .  . 

what  could  be  better  than 

a  maybasket  of  stories 

including  "sugar  'n.'  spice  and 

everything  nice  . .  ."  and  all 

the  spring  mornings  since 

time  began. 

—TED  MALONE 


Radio  Mirror's  Prize  Poem 
WARNING:  PROCEED  WITH  CARE 


Be  sure  to  listen  to  Ted 
Malone's  program  Monday 
through  Friday  mornings 
at    11:30    EST    over    ABC 


!^"- 


It  looks  lUce  iunk,  this  pile  oi — things; 
The  desJc  top  tcrirly  bristles 
With  toys  and  gimcracks,  guns  and  strings 
And  horns  and  bells  and  whistles. 

This  tired  old  box  is  an  iron-bound  chest. 
Souvenir  of  the  Spanish  Main; 
\        If  I  were  you,  I  wouldn't  molest 
^        Thai  drawing;  (secret  plane 
The  FBI 
Might  buy). 

This  gadget's  a  trap,  placed  here  in  the  hope 

Of  catching  a  fox,  or  a  bear; 

That  broken-down  second-hand  telescope 

Is  strategically  balanced  there 

Should  a  spy 

Pass  by. 

Though  it's  something  less  than  picturesque. 
Let  the  light  touch  be  your  theme 
'»        When  re-orronging  a  small  boy's  desk 


^' 


Or  his  dream. 


— Mary  McGrane  Powers 


YOUNG  FARMER 


It   seemed    he   saw   the   new-green   wheat  thrust 

through 
The  sun-warmed  field,  before  his  very  eyes, 
And,  sensing  its  sharp  urge  to  grow,  he  knew, 
With    man-grown    wisdom,    that    his    course    was 

wise. 

tt  had  been  hord,  ot  first,  to  be  pine-tall, 
And    bound    by   mule-drawn    plough  to   narrow 

field, 
When   his  young   hands   could   almost  feel  life's 

wall 
Crumble  before  boolc-learning,  break,  and  yield. 

But  now  his  eager  mouth  shaped  summer's  song 

As  he  looked  past  a  forty  acres'  girth 

To    fhin-ribbed    children,    growing    brown    and 

strong, 
Because  long  furrows  reached  around  the  earth. 
— Anobel  Armour 


^i^^^ 


THEN  AND  NOW 


FraST  LOVE 


It's  not  so  long  ago  that  he 
Stood  barely  heart-high  to  my  knee; 
And  told  me  all  his  griefs  and  joys; 
His  plays  and  fights  with  other  boys. 

Today  his  pain  and  pleasure  swirls 
Around,  not  boys,  but  pretty  girls. 
It  is  the  same  yet  changed,  for  now, 
He  stands  full  heort-high  to  my  brow. 
^Enola  Chamberiin 


THE  HOUSEWIFE 

Strauss    glowed    and   slaved   before    a 

stnbborn  score; 
She  dreams,  with  apple  parings  on  the 

floor. 
Keats  spent  his  heart  on  one  immortal 

spell; 
She  broods  above  her  bubbling  cherry 

jell. 
Was  Rembrandt  careful  of  his  lints,  his 

curves? 
No    single   flaw   may   mar   her   peach 

preserves. 
Hands  stained  by  grapes,  arms  filled 

with  jars  of  pears, 
Men  sec  in  her  no  angel  on  the  stairs 
But  splendid  wraiths  drift  earthward 

from  the  skies 
To  watch  the  shining  wonder  of  her 

eyes! 

— Geraldin^  Ross 


\ 


When  1  ha<l  tucked  hor  safely  in  her  bed 
And  was  ahoiit  to  dim  the  last,  small  lamp. 
"Please  wait  a  moment,"  hesitantly  she  said, 
'Til  tell  yon  sonn-tliing  .  .  .  I'm  in  love."   The 

clamp 
Of    fear    fell    swilt    and     liaiil     witliin     my 

breast  .  .  . 
"What  foolishness."  I  was  aliont  lo  say, 
Passing  the  moment  with  a  casual  jest. 
And  then  1  saw  her  eyes,  recalled  the  way 
(With  sweet  nostalpia  and  sudden  tears,) 
That  I  had  felt  once  .  .  .  lonji,  so  long  ago 
Before  the  rush  of  time,  the  sting  of  years 
When  Hrst  love  brouplil  my  heart  and  soul  a 

glow- 
As  delicate  and  pure  as  eandle-shine  .  .  . 
Good-night,  de.ir  little  girl  ...  in  love  .  .  . 

at    nine! 

"Christie   l.und   Coles 


\' 


VACATION  WEEK 

Oh,  Monday  is  well-water  in  a 
shiny  tin  dipper; 
Tuesday  is  a  bowl  of  grapes, 
Malaga.  Tokay; 
Wednesday  is  a  new-baked  loaf, 
brown  and  crisp  and  crusty; 
Thursday  is  a  daHodil,  smell- 
ing like  May! 
Friday's   a   yellow   bird   singing 
in  a  cherry-tree; 
Saturday  is  butterflies  drifting 
in  a  wreath; 
Sunday  is  a  toy  balloon,  slipping 
from  its  tether  .  .  . 
And    Monday's    a    persimmon 
that  is  wry  between  the  teeth! 
— Louise  Owen 


T 


WHAT'S  COOKING? 

Mary  Jane  is  baking 
Mud  pies  in  the  sun. 
Pretending  she's  a  grown-up 
Is  her  idea  of  fun. 

While  I  look  out  my  window, 
My  fingers  deep  in  dough. 
And  dream  I  feel  the  mud  again 
I  played  in  long  ago. 

— Esther  Baldwin  York 


5c- 


RADIO  MIRROR  WILL  PAY  FIFTY   DOLLARS 

for  the  best  original  poem  sent  in  each  month  by  a  reader. 
Five  dollars  will  be  paid  for  each  other  original  poem  lised 
on  Between  the  Bookends  pages  in  Radio  Mirror  Limit 
poems  to  30  lines,  address  to  Ted  Malonc,  Radio  Mirror, 
205  E.  42,  N.  Y,  17,  N.  Y.  When  postage  is  enclosed, 
every  effort  will  be  made  to  return  unused  manuscripts, 
this  is  not  a  contest,  but  an  offer  to  purchase  poetry  for 
our  Bookends  pages. 


¥ 


If  you've  a  problem  ...  or  the 
answer  to  someone  else's  problem 


why  not  tell  Joan  about  it? 


By  JOAN  DAVIS 

Joan  Davis,  played  by  Mary 
Jane  Higby,  is  the  heroine  of 
When  A  Girl  Marries,  heard 
Mon.-Fri.  at  5  P.M.  EST,  NBC. 


44 


LAST  month  I  asked  for  your  answers  to  the  following 
problem:  When  husband  and  wife  both  work,  should 
the  husband  help  with  the  household  duties?  Your 
letters  certainly  proved  one  thing:  there  are  no  luke- 
warm reactions  to  this  question!  And — surprisingly — 
some  of  the  most  outspoken  letters  came  from  nnen, 
agreeing  with  Mrs.  D.  Sirotkin,  of  Wilkes-Barre,  Pa., 
whose  letter  was  chosen  as  the  best  we  received!  Here's 
the  letter  that  won  Mrs.  Sirotkin  a  $25  award. 

"Yes!  Yes!  Yes!  Where  is  there  a  better  place  to 
exchange  the  day's  experiences  than  over  a  sinkjul  oj 
dirty  dishes  or  a  swirling  tuhjul  of  clothes?  There  is 
little  time  left  for  recreation  if  the  husband  sinks  deep 
in  the  divan,  waiting  for  the  wife  who  sinks  equally 
deep  in  the  rut  of  endless  housework.  My  advice? 
Housewives,  if  you're  helping  pay  for  that  new  furniture, 
make  your  husband  help  you  clean  it.  Husbands,  to 
keep  a  marriage  partnership  on  its  feet,  stay  on  yours 
until  the  housework's  done!" 

And  here  are  the  letters  I  chose  to  answer  this  month, 
letters  that  ask  questions  I  think  many  of  you  have 
had  to  answer — or  may  have  to  answer — sometime  in 
your  lives. 

GOING  HALF  WAY 

Dear  Joan: 

I  live  in  a  small  village  on  the  seacoast.  It's  a  beau- 
tiful place  and  we  have  a  very  nice  house — ^we're  trying 
to  buy  it  on  the  GI  Bill  of  Rights.  I  have  a  nice  husband 
and  two  wonderful  boys  aged  one  and  three. 

But  I  feel  out  of  place  in  this  village,  and  I  don't  have 
any  friends  here.  The  only  ones  I  know  are  relatives. 
No  one  wants  to  be  friendly.  I  don't  have  ^fiy  outsiders 
call  on  me  or  ask  me  to  join  their  clubs  or  to  visit  them. 
I  have  had  this  feeling  ever  since  I  came  here,  but  my 
husband  says  it's  my  fault  because  I  don't  want  to  go 
out  of  my  way  to  make  friends.  He  can  talk — he's  lived 
here  all  his  life  and  he  knows  everyone!  I  don't  feel  I 
should  go  arotmd  and  try  to  make  friends.  I  think  the 
people  should  at  least  come  half  way. 


Everyone  in  my  family  loves  it  here.  But  I  want  to 
leave,  and  start  over  in  some  other  place,  where  people 
are  people.  Do  you  think  I  should  give  up  my  home 
and  take  my  boys  and  leave?  I  know  it  would  hurt  them 
to  have  to  leave  and  it  would  more  than  hurt  my  hus- 
band. But  I  can't  see  living  here  the  rest  of  my  life 
where  people  think  you  are  imposing,  or  that  they  are 
doing  you  a  favor  letting  you  stay  here.  Maybe  my 
husband  is  right — maybe  I  am  just  a  little  backward 
wife  and  don't  want  to  make  friends. 

Mrs.  W.  R.  F. 

Dear  Mrs.  W.  R.  F.: 

Look  back  to  that  sentence  where  you  say,  "I  think 
the  people  should  at  least  come  half  way."  Are  you 
s\ire  that  you  have  gone  at  least  half  way  to  meet  them? 
And  wouldn't  you  be  willing,  for  the  sake  of  your  hus- 
band and  your  sons — for  your  own  sake,  and  the  sake 
of  yoiu-  marriage — to  stop  standing  on  ceremony  and  go 
more  than  half  way? 

I  think  that  in  one  way,  your  problem  is  not  as  acute 
as  it  would  be  if  your  whole  family  were  strangers  in 
the  town — if  your  husband,  too,  knew  no  one.  But  in 
another  way,  I'm  inclined  to  think  that  much  of  your 
trouble  stems  from  that  very  fact  that  your  husband 
does  have  friends,  and  because  of  that  you  perhaps  feel 
more  left  out  of  things  than  actually  you  are. 

Have  you  explored  all  possible  avenues  open  to  you 
for  making  friends?  Your  church,  and  the  groups  in- 
volved in  doing  church  work?  Have  you  any  special 
talents  or  skills  that  you  can  offer  which  would  make 
you  a  valued  member  of  one  of  those  clubs  of  which 
you  speak?  Have  you  tried  to  make  friends  with,  dis- 
cuss your  mutual  child-raising  problems  with,  the  moth- 
ers of  your  son's  little  playmates?  Have  you  genuinely 
tried  to  be  friendly  with  your  husband's  old  friends 
instead  of  standing  aloof  and  waiting  for  them  to  press 
friendship  on  you? 

No,  I  don't  advise — ^not  yet,  certainly — going  away 
and  "making  a  fresh  start."  That  would  mean  another 
strange  town,  wouldn't  it?  And  more  strangers?  And 
the  whole  business  to  begin    {Continued  on  page  106) 


Each  month  Joan  Davis  will  answer  your 
questions  on  any  problems  concerning  mar- 
riage, except  problems  of  health  or  law.  No 
letters  can  be  answered  personally.  Joan  will 
choose  from  these  letters  each  month  a  prob- 
lem which  she  will  ask  you,  the  readers,  to 
answer. 

RADIO  MIRROR  WILL  PAY  $25.00 

to  the  person  whose  problem 
letter  is  chosen  and 

ANOTHER  $25.00  WILL  BE  PAID 

to  the  person  submitting  the  best  answer  to 
that  problem  in  the  opinion  of  the  editors, 
whose  decision  will  be  final.  No  letters  will 
be  returned.  Address  Joan  Davis,  Radio 
Mirror  Magazine,  205  East  42nd  Street,  New 
York  17,  N.  Y.  Prize  answers,  with  the  name 
of  the  winner,  will  be  printed  each  month. 
Winner  of  the  prize  for  the  month's  best 
problem  will  be  notified  by  mail,  as  those 
who  submit  problems  usually  prefer  not  to 
have  their  names  used  in  the  magazine. 

Here  is  this  month's  problem: 

How  can  a  housewife,  untrained  in  business 
and  toith  small  children  to  care  for,  earn 
money  at  home  to  help  the  family  budget? 


What  is  your  answer  to  this  problem 


45 


"?' 


y 


If  you've  a  problem  ...  or  the 
answer  to  someone  else's  problem 
why  not  tell  Joan  about  it? 


'^^^<\v\V 


^V 


■tfu/ 


By  JOAN  DAVIS 

Jotin  Davla,  played  by  Mary 
Jnne  Uigby.  la  the  heroine  of 
When  A  Girl  Marries,  heard 
Mon.-Fri.atSP.M.  EST.NBC. 


44 


I  AST  month  I  asked  for  your  answers  to  the  following 
problem:  When  husband  and  wife  both  work,  should 
the  husband  help  with  the  household  duties?  Your 
letters  certainly  proved  one  thing:  there  are  no  luke- 
warm reactions  to  this  question!  And — surprisingly — 
some  of  the  most  outspoken  letters  came  from  men, 
agreeing  with  Mrs.  D.  Sirotkin,  of  WUkes-Barre,  Pa., 
whose  letter  was  chosen  as  the  best  we  received!  Here's 
the  letter  that  won  Mrs.  Sirotkin  a  $25  award. 

"Yes!  Yes!  Yes!  Where  is  there  a  better  place  to 
exchange  the  day's  experiences  than  over  a  sinkful  oj 
dirty  dishes  or  a  swirling  tuhjul  of  clothes?  There  is 
little  time  left  for  recreation  if  the  husband  sinks  deep 
in  the  divan,  waiting  for  the  wife  who  sinks  equally 
deep  in  the  rut  of  endless  housework.  My  advice? 
Housewives,  if  you're  helping  pay  for  that  new  furniture, 
make  your  husband  help  you  clean  it.  Husbands,  to 
keep  a  marriage  partnership  ow  its  feet,  stay  on  yours 
until  the  housework's  done!" 

And  here  are  the  letters  I  chose  to  answer  this  month, 
letters  that  ask  questions  I  think  many  of  you  have 
had  to  answer — or  may  have  to  answer — sometime  in 
your  Hves. 

GOING  HALF  WAY 

Dear  Joan: 

I  live  in  a  small  village  on  the  seacoast.  It's  a  beau- 
tiful place  and  we  have  a  very  nice  house — ^we're  trying 
to  buy  it  on  the  GI  Bill  of  Rights.  I  have  a  nice  husband 
and  two  wonderful  boys  aged  one  and  three. 

But  I  feel  out  of  place  in  this  village,  and  I  don't  have 
any  friends  here.  The  only  ones  I  know  are  relatives. 
No  one  wants  to  be  friendly.  I  don't  have  any  outsiders 
call  on  me  or  ask  me  to  join  their  clubs  or  to  visit  them. 
I  have  had  this  feeling  ever  since  I  came  here,  but  my 
husband  says  it's  my  fault  because  I  don't  want  to  go 
out  of  my  way  to  make  friends.  He  can  talk — he's  lived 
here  all  his  life  and  he  knows  everyone!  I  don't  feel  I 
should  go  around  and  try  to  make  friends.  I  think  the 
people  should  at  least  come  half  way. 


^W 


Everyone  in  my  family  loves  it  here.  But  I  want  to 
leave,  and  start  over  in  some  other  place,  where  people 
are  people.  Do  you  think  I  should  give  up  my  home 
and  take  my  boys  and  leave?  I  know  it  would  hurt  them 
to  have  to  leave  and  it  would  more  than  hurt  my  hus- 
band. But  I  can't  see  living  here  the  rest  of  my  life 
where  people  think  you  are  imposing,  or  that  they  are 
doing  you  a  favor  letting  you  stay  here.  Maybe  my 
husband  is  right — maybe  I  am  just  a  little  backward 
wife  and  don't  want  to  make  friends. 

Mrs.  W.  R.  F. 

Dear  Mrs.  W.  R.  F.: 

Look  back  to  that  sentence  where  you  say,  "I  think 
the  people  should  at  least  come  half  way."  Are  you 
sure  that  you  have  gone  at  least  halt  way  to  meet  them? 
And  wouldn't  you  be  wilUng,  for  the  sake  of  your  hus- 
band and  your  sons — for  your  own  sake,  and  the  sake 
of  your  marriage — to  stop  standing  on  ceremony  and  go 
more  than  half  way? 

I  think  that  in  one  way,  your  problem  is  not  as  acute 
as  it  would  be  if  your  whole  family  were  strangers  in 
the  town — if  your  husband,  too,  knew  no  one.  But  in 
another  way,  I'm  inclined  to  think  that  much  of  your 
trouble  stems  from  that  very  fact  that  your  husband 
does  have  friends,  and  because  of  that  you  perhaps  feel 
more  left  out  of  things  than  actually  you  are. 

Have  you  explored  all  possible  avenues  open  to  you 
for  making  friends?  Your  church,  and  the  groups  in- 
volved in  doing  church  work?  Have  you  any  special 
talents  or  skills  that  you  can  offer  which  would  make 
you  a  valued  member  of  one  of  those  clubs  of  which 
you  speak?  Have  you  tried  to  make  friends  with,  dis- 
cuss your  mutual  child-raising  problems  with,  the  moth- 
ers of  your  son's  little  playmates?  Have  you  genuinely 
tried  to  be  friendly  with  your  husband's  old  friends 
instead  of  standing  aloof  and  waiting  for  them  to  press 
friendship  on  you? 

No,  I  don't  advise — not  yet,  certaiijy — going  away 
and  "making  a  fresh  start."  That  would  mean  another 
strange  town,  wouldn't  it?  And  more  strangers?  And 
the  whole  business  to  begin    (Continued  on  page  106) 


Each  montti  Joan  Davis  will  answer  your 
questions  on  any  problems  concerning  mor- 
riuge,  except  problems  of  health  or  law.  No 
letters  can  be  answered  personally.  Joan  will 
choose  from  these  letters  each  month  a  prob- 
lem which  she  will  usk  you,  the  readers,  to 
answer. 

RADIO  MIRROR  WILL  PAY  $25.00 

to  the  person  whose  problem 
letter  i»  chosen  nnd 

ANOTHER  $25.00  WILL  BE  PAID 

to  the  per8on  submitting  the  best  answer  to 
tbiit  problem  in  the  opinion  of  tjie  editors, 
whose  decision  %vill  be  finiil.  No  letters  will 
be  returned.  Address  Joint  Duvis,  Riidio 
Mirror  Mognziue,  205  Ensl  42nd  Street,  New 
York  17,  N.  Y.  Prize  answers,  with  the  name 
of  the  winner,  will  be  printed  each  month. 
Winner  of  the  prize  for  the  month's  best 
problem  will  be  notified  by  mail,  as  those 
who  Huhmil  problems  usually  prefer  not  to 
have  their  nanietn  used  in  the  magazine. 

Here  is  this  month*s  problem: 

How  ccui  a  housewife,  untrained  in  business 
and  ivith  small  children  to  care  for,  earn 
money  at  home  to  help  the  family  budget? 

What  is  your  answer  to  this  problem? 


Winner  (at  table)  really  takes 
all:  Emcee  Bud  CoUyer  pre- 
sents him  with  a  complete  din- 
ner— with  service  de  luxe — 
to    take    place    in    his    home 


WNN 


CLAYTON  "BUD"  COLLYER,  television  emcee  of 
Winner  Take  All  every  Thursday  night  at  8:30 
EST,  and  radio  emcee  for  the  same  show  Monday 
through  Friday  at  4:30  to  4:45  EST,  graduated  from 
law  school  and  worked  as  a  law  clerk  for  two  long 
years.  Collyer  senior  was  a  lawyer,  and  Bud  was  going 
to  follow  in  dad's  footsteps,  quite  overlooking  the  fact 
that  there  was  an  actress  mother  in  his  backgrotond  and 
a  grandfather,  Dan  Collyer,  who  had  died  during  the 
run  of  a  play  in  which  he  was  appearing. 

There  was  also  sister  June  Collyer,  who  had  become 
famous  in  motion  pictures  and  retired  from  the  screen 
after  she  married  actor  Stuart  Erwin.  And  there  was 
also  that  boyhood  up  in  Maine  where  Bud  used  to  amuse 
the  family  by  setting  up  a  little  theater  in  an  empty 
room  of  the  big  house  and  give  ad  Ub.  plays;  the  glee 
club  at  Hoi-ace  Mann  school;  and  the  little  theater  pro- 
ductions at  Williams  College. 

So  how  could  he  escape  his  theatrical  fate? 

He  didn't  try — ^not  too  hard.  "The  pull  was  too  great," 
he  tells  me.  "At  Fordham  College,  where  I  took  my  law 
course,  I  helped  pay  expenses  by  singing  on  the  radio. 


: 


-Tg^nrnftmiAHE  All 


FAKE  ALl 


After  I  graduated  I'd  slip  away  from  law  every  little 
while  and  do  a  broadway  play — even  though  they  were 
always  flops. 

"One  day  Helen  Claire  introduced  me  to  some  people 
in  radio  who  helped  me  get  a  sustaining  show  at  CBS. 
After  that,  the  law  didn't  have  a  chance." 

Bud's  radio  career  hit  a  high  peak  with  his  portrayal 
of  that  children's  dehght,  Superman — still  part  of  his 
triple  job,  the  other  two  being  "Winner"  and  a  program 
called  Beat  the  Clock.  It  takes  a  Superman  to  carry 
a  load  like  that. 

On  the  television  version  of  Winner  Take  All,  as 
you  undoubtedly  know  if  you're  within  seeing  distance 
of  the  CBS-TV  eastern-midwest  network  or  its  kine- 
scope recordings,  Bud  is  a  lively  quizmaster,  awarding 
refrigerators,  washing  machines,  paintings  and  painting 
courses,  dresses  for  the  ladies,  shirts  for  the  men,  meals 
for  the  family,  and  a  Uttle  bit  of  everything  for  every- 
body. 

There  are  two  people  competing  against  each  other 

on  the  show — a  Champion  and  a  Challenger — and  once 

.  on,  a  player  remains  as  long  as  (Continued  on  page  90) 


Vaudeville  comes  back  in  "Winner":  a  horse-act  (above) 
and  a  song-and-dance  routine  (below),  with  Joe  Silver. 


Evelyn  McBride,  artist  Frederik  Whittaker  and  Collyer 
examine  the  picture   to   be   given   a   lucky   contestant. 


Winner  (at  table)  really  takes 
all:   Emcee  Bud   Collyer  pre- 
sents him  with  a  complete  din- 
ner— with    service    de    lu 
to    take    place    in    his    home 


ADIO    miRR 


JLlEVISIOl 


smcxiour 


Gloria  Shannon  helps  Bud  with  makeup. 


WINNE] 


CLAYTON  "BUD"  COLLYER,  television  em.  of 
Winner  Take  All  every  Thursday  night  ai  1:30 
EST,  and  radio  emcee  for  the  same  show  M'  day 
through  Friday  at  4:30  to  4:45  EST,  graduated  iom 
law  school  and  worked  as  a  law  clerk  for  twc  ong 
years.  Collyer  senior  was  a  lawyer,  and  Bud  was  going 
to  follow  in  dad's  footsteps,  quite  overlooking  tli  tact 
that  there  was  an  actress  mother  in  his  backgroun  !  and 
a  grandfather,  Dan  Collyer,  who  had  died  durii'-  the 
run  of  a  play  in  which  he  was  appearing. 

There  was  also  sister  June  Collyer,  who  had  bp 'ome 
f^unous  in  motion  pictures  and  retired  from  the  screen 
after  she  married  actor  Stuart  Erwin.  And  there  was 
also  that  boyhood  up  in  Maine  where  Bud  used  to  amuse 
the  family  by  setting  up  a  little  theater  in  an  empty 
room  of  the  big  house  and  give  ad  lib  plays;  the  gle^ 
club  at  Horace  Mann  school;  and  the  little  theater  pro- 
ductions at  Williams  College. 

So  how  could  he  escape  his  theatrical  fate? 

He  didn't  ti-y — not  too  hard.  "The  pull  was  too  great. 
he  tells  me.  "At  Fordham  College,  where  I  took  my  la* 
course,  I  helped  pay  expenses  by  singing  on  the  radio- 


TAKE  ALL 


After  I  graduated  I'd  sUp  away  from  law  every  little 
while  and  do  a  broadway  play — even  though  they  were 
always  flops. 

"One  day  Helen  Claire  introduced  me  to  some  people 
in  radio  who  helped  me  get  a  sustaining  show  at  CBS. 
After  that,  the  law  didn't  have  a  chance." 

Bu!  s  radio  career  hit  a  high  peak  with  his  portrayal 
of  th.  t  children's  delight.  Superman— still  part  of  his 
triple  job,  the  other  two  being  "Winner"  and  a  program 
calle<i  Beat  the  Clock.  It  takes  a  Superman  to  carry 
a  loE     hke  that. 

the  television  version  of  Winner  Take  AU,  as 
.doubtedly  know  if  you're  within  seeing  distance 
CBS-TV  eastern-midwest  network  or  its  kine- 
ecordings.  Bud  is  a  hvely  quizmaster,  awarding 
rators,  washing  machines,  paintings  and  painting 
.,  dresses  for  the  ladies,  shirts  for  the  men,  meals 
family,  and  a  little  bit  of  everything  for  every- 


Or. 

you  I 

of  th 
scopt 
refrii 
com> 
for  Vl 
body 
Th 
on  ti 
on,  8 


e  are  two  people  competing  against  each  other 
show— a  Champion  and  a  Challenger— and  once 
layer  remains  as  long  as  (Continued  on  poge  90) 


Vaudeville  conies  back  in  "Winner";  a  horse-act  (above) 
anti  a  song-nnd-ilance  routine  {itelowK  witb  Joe  Silver. 


Evelyn  McKride,  artist  Frcdcrik  Whillakcr  ami  Collyer 
examine   the   picture   to   be   given   a    lucky   contestant. 


KNBH:  ZaSu  Pitts  with  Gordon  Peters  in  kine- 
scope-movie version  of  "Ramshackle  Inn,"  origi- 
naHy  .heard   on  Philco's  WNBT    (N.  Y.)    show. 


Jack  and  Patty  Meakin  present  The  Meakins 
show  nightly  on  KTTV.  The  show  features 
songs,    previews    of    KTTV    evening    listenings. 


Another  KTTV  specialty:  Baum  Kuchen,  "Tree 
Cake,"  as  prepared  by  chef  Otto  Nagel,  r.,  for 
Fred     Beck's     Kitchen.     Fred     looks     dubious. 

48 


HOLLYWOOD'S 

Looking  at-    , 

I  AST  month  we  told  you  about  what  goes  on  at  that  pioneer  West  Coast 
television  station,  the  Don  Lee  Studios.  Now  here's  how  TV  has  been 
shaping  up  at  NBC  and  CBS  in  the  Glamor  City. 

NBC's  tele  station  KNBH,  in  Hollywood's  Radio  City,  opened  January 
and  is  now  going  full  blast.  Besides  kinescope  fihns  of  popular  eastern 
shows  like  Philco  Television  Playhouse,  Chevrolet  on  Broadway  and 
Howdy  Doody,  KNBH  is  putting  on  some  good  live  shows  of  its  own. 

Locally  produced  hve  shows  include  The  Pickard  Family— a  real  family 
group  of  six  musicians.  Mother  plays  the  piano  and  organ,  a  daughter 
Ruth  plays  the  accordion,  sons  Bub  and  Charlie  perform  on  the  string  bass 
and  guitar.  And  there's  the  yotmgest.  Aim  and  Dad  Pickard. 

A  Woman's  World  is  a  disciission  group.  Starlight  Time,  featuring 
singers  Anita  Gordon  and  Bob  Graham,  includes  dancing  and  instru- 
mental miosic  in  a  modern  night  club  setting. 

At  Hollywood's  CBS  tele  station  KTTV  there  are  kinescopes  of  such 
well  known  eastern  programs  as  Toast  of  the  Town,  Lucky  Pup,  Win- 
ner Take  All,  Kobb's  Komer,  and  others— and  some  good  local  live,  shows. 

Fred  Beck's  Kitchen  features  radio  and  newspaper  columnist  Beck  as 
emcee  of  a  program  on  which  guest  chefs  and  specialists  prepare  foods  for  I 
special  panel  of  gourmet  guests. 

Students  at  the  famous  Pasadena  Playhouse  give  one-act  plays.  Dis- 
cussion programs  include  Hollywood  Talks  It  Over,  which  features  screen 
stars  as  guests,  and  What  Do  You  Think?,  which  features  guests  who 
talk  about  the  great  books. 

And  of  coTU-se  there  are  charades— what  TV  line-up  wotild  be  com- 
plete without  them!  And  sports — and  western  films. 

So  here  you  have  it— the  old  TV  standbys— the  kinescopes  that  bring 
some  of  the  best  of  what  the  east  and  mid-west  can  offer— and  the  local 
talent— all  lined  up  together  to  make  California  TV-conscious. 


A 


ADIO    MIRROR 


nwmm 


SECTION 


Jemj  Mahoney's  ftivate  Album 

BRASH  and  bold— rbut  bright  enough  to  carry  it  o£E — ^wooden-headed  Jerry  Mahoney  is  talking  his  way  into  a  leading 
position  in  the  TV  picture.  At  least,  his  master  Paul  Winchell  does  the  talking,  but  it's  Jerry's  personality  that 
makes  the  combination.  They  share  the  cameras  with  mind -reader  Dxuminger,  Thursday  nights- at  9:30  EST,  on 
WNBT  and  on  the  cable.    From  Jerry's  star-studded  alb\un,  here  are  some  of  his  favorite  pictures — ^with  comment. 


"Phil   Harris   gets  Alice   Faye   on  his   show.     I   get   Paul!'' 


"Paul's    daughter    Stephanie    used    to    be    scared    of    me.' 


AS5RaA^^Gi*.  ■  ■!•■ 


KEiSaSH'^AlSKVf:'; 


"I  was  glad  to  meet  Howdy.  Was  Paul  glad  to  meet  Bob?"  "Jackie    Robinson    of    the    Dodgers    was    a    big    success." 

HBC 


"For    Sinatra,    a    joke    from    my    special,    private    stock." 


"With  Dunninger  around  I  can't  even  think  what  I  want.' 


RADIO   MIRROR   TELEVISION  SECTION 


It's  Rhoda  Mann  who  pulls  the  strings  for 
Howdy  Doody,  heard  and  seen  on  NBC. 


HOWDY  DODDY'sl] 


TEN  years  ago,  when  Rhoda  Mann  was  eleven,  her  father 
bought  her  a  puppet  doll  for  Christmas.  That  began  a  career 

which  seven  years  later  landed  Rhoda  in  show  business  and, 
before  she  was  twenty-one,  made  her  the  puppeteer  for  that 
puppet  with  personality,  Howdy  Doody,  whose  voice  is,  of 
course.  Bob  Smith. 

By  the  time  she  was  at  Taft  High  she  had  added  other  pup- 
pets to  the  troupe.  They  all  sang  and  danced,  probably  be- 
cause those  were  the  things  Rhoda  liked  to  do  most. 

At  eighteen  she  turned  professional  and  for  two  Christmas 
seasons  put  on  shows  in  department  store  window^s. 

To  maneuver  Howdy,  Rhoda  clambers  up  a  little  iron,  ladder 
and  swings  over  to  her  own  private  catwalk,  about  two  feet 
wide  and  fourteen  feet  above  the  floor.  The  platform  is  high, 
and  Howdy's  twelve  strings  are  unusually  long,  because  Bob 
Smith  is  a  tall  fellow  and  Rhoda  has  to  be  way  above  him  out 
of  the  camera  eye.  Long  strings  are  harder  to  control  than 
short  ones.    "But  it's  not  hard,"  she  says.    "It's  like  a  harp." 

But  the  best  part  of  all  is  watching  her  follow  Bob's  conver- 
sation without  a  smitch  of  a  script.  Before  the  show  goes  on 
Rhoda  takes  a  quick  look  at  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  the 
script,  or  listens  to  Bob  talk  about  it.  That's  all.  The  minute  the 
"on  the  air"  sign  lights  up  she  glues  her  eyes  to  Bob. 

Rhoda  got  her  job  when  Frank  Paris,  her  associate  on  the 
Toby  of  the  Circus  shows,  got  into  TV  and  brought  her  with  him. 

They  both  woi-ked  on  the  Howdy  Doody  show  with  Bob. 
Then  they  both  left  to  do  another  show.  But  Rhoda  came  back. 

"They  asked  me  how  I'd  like  to  come  back  and  be  Howdy's 
boss,"  she  told  me.  "I  didn't  want  to  seem  too  eager,  so  I  just 
said   yes  three  times.     It  took  me   three  seconds   to   accept." 


In    private    life    Rhoda's    the    one    who 
jnmps    around;    Howdy's    a    quiet    type. 


50 


RADIO    MIRROR 


TELEVISION 


SECTION 


On  Your  SCREEN 


Allan  Frank:  Charade  Quiz,  DnMont 
Wednesday    nights    at    8    P.M.    EST. 

ALLAN  FRANK  looks  like  a  serious  theo- 
logian. And  what  do  you  know? — that's 
what  he  almost  became.  But  Fate  saw  that 
half-hidden  twinkle  in  his  eyes  and  made  him 
give  up  the  study  of  theology  for  an  acting 
career  before  he  was  twenty.  It's  true  that  he 
was  cast  as  a  serious  actor,  getting  his  basic 
training  with  an  experimental  acting  group,  in- 
vading Broadway  in  a  series  of  children's  plays, 
and  joining  such  serious  successes  as  "Angel 
Street"  with  Vincent  Price  and  "Skipper  Next 
to  God"  with  John  Garfield. 

But  that  twinkle  jvist  had  to  out,  and  a  direc- 
tor at  DuMont  was  the  fii'st  to  notice  it.  Before 
our  Mr.  Frank  had  time  to  draw  himself  up  to 
his  full  six  feet  and  one-half  inch  and  remind 
the  guy  that  he  was  talking  to  a  fellow^  who 
nourished  ambitions  to  play  "Hamlet,"  he  found 
himself  one  of  the  regular  actors  on  Bill  Slater's 
Charade  Quiz  wliich  is  televised  every  Wednes- 
day night  from  8:00  to  8:30  EST,  over  the 
DviMont  network. 

He's  been  on  the  show  so  long  now  that  he 
can't  remember  the  time  when  he  wasn't  ex- 
pected to  take  at  least  one  comedy  fall  and  give 
out  with  at  least  one  comedy  cackle,  all  in  the 
coiurse  of  a  half  hour's  program. 

He  works  with  four  other  regular  charade 
actors,  one  of  them  a  smcdl  girl — and  three 
regtdar  expert-  guessers.  They're  Bob  Shepard, 
Minabess  Lewis  and  Harold  Rowe. 

Allan  "was  born  in  Brooklyn,  brought  up  in 
Connecticut,  and  married  a  Connecticut  girl 
while  he  was  in  the  Army  Air  Forces.  Right 
now  they're  back  where  he  started  from — living 
in  Brooklyn. 

The  third  member  of  the  Frank  establishment 
is  Allan's  mother-in-law — and  his  wife's  only 
complaint  is  that  her  mama  sides  with  Allan 
whenever  there's  an  argument. 


Dan  Seymour:  Emcees  We,  the  People, 
CBS-TV,    Tuesdays    at    9    P.M.    EST. 

DAN  SEYMOUR  moved  into  the  emcee's  spot 
on  We,  the  People,  just  as  naturally  as 
the  proverbial  duck  takes  to  you-know- 
what.  He  was  the  show's  announcer  for  six 
years,  so  when  former  emcee  Dwight  Weist  left 
to  produce  some  TV  shows  of  his  own,  there  was 
Dan — ready,  willing  and  able,  every  Tuesday 
at  9:00  EST,  over  CBS  and  CBS-TV. 

Dan  got  into  radio  in  Boston,  in  1935,  when  he 
was  twenty  and  newly  graduated  from  Amherst. 
Before  the  year  was  out,  he  won  the  audition 
as  announcer  for  a  Community  Sing  show  with 
Milton  Berle,  and  went  on  from  there  to  an- 
nounce the  Major  Bowes  Show  for  CBS  in  New 
York.  Before  long  our  Mr.  Seymour  was  adding 
announcing  chores  for  such  top  personalities  as 
Bing  Crosby,  Bob  Hope  and  Al  Jolson. 

In  addition  to  his  present  combined  audio 
and  video  broadcasts  of  We,  the  People,  which 
spotlights  weekly  guest- celebrity  hosts,  Dan 
doubles  as  emcee  of  CBS's  big  audio  musical 
quiz.  Sing  It  Again,  and  triples  as  announcer 
for  The  Aldrich  Family  and  Aunt  Jenny,  and 
the  TV  Dunninger-WineheH  shew. 

When  he  really  needs  a  rest  now  and  then 
he  romps  with  six-year-old  Stephan  Dana, 
nine-year-old  Judith  Ann,  and  twelve-year-old 
Nancy  Louise.  They  all  live  in  a  pleasant  nine- 
room  Dutch  Colonial  house  in  White  Plains, 
New  York.  Their  summers  are  spent  on  Cape 
Cod. 

Oh  yes,  and  there's  mama  too.  Dan  met  Loiiise 
when  he  was  a  senior  at  Amherst  College  in 
Massachusetts  and  she  was  at  Mt.  Holyoke 
College  nearby.  They  were  married  during 
spring  vacation  but  kept  it  secret  because 
it  would  have  meant  expulsion  from  college. 
Then  came  graduation,  which  fell  on  a  Monday; 
by  Tuesday,  he  was  one  of  the  announcers  for 
the  Yankee  network. 


RADIO    MIRROR 


TELEVISION 


SECTION 


51 


COAST 

to 

COAST 

in 


TEIEVISIOI 


ALL'S  right  with  television — the  Goldbergs  have 
taken  over!  Last  January  17,  over  the  CBS  net- 
work, at  9:00  P.M.  EST,  Molly  and  Jake  and 
Sammy  and  Rosalie  and  all  their  relatives  and  their 
neighbors  in  the  Bronx  began  to  brighten  our  screens. 
Complete  episodes  in  themselves,  each  telecast  is 
different,  but  always  the  same  as  far  as  family  life 
and  family  problems  and  family  joys  are  concerned. 
Molly's  sorrows  are  every  mother's  tears — Molly's 
triumphs  are  every  housewife's  overcomings — ^Molly's 

Eddie  Albert  and  Margo  spent  a  whole  day  last  winter  on  a 
,  one-minute  snow  scene  filmed  for  NBC's  Chevrolet  on  B'way. 


Ringmaster  Claude  Kirchner  shows  the  youngsters  how  to  grab  pennie  ;; 

! 

i! 

laughter  is  joy  in  which  every  listener  shares.  There's 
something  universal  about  this  woman — a  timeless- 
ness  that  few  personalities  have  been  able  to  capture. 
Stop  and  think  about  it — The  Goldbergs  went  on 
the  radio  for  the  first  time  on  November  20,  1929. 
During  two  periods  the  show  totaled  seventeen  years 
on  the  air,  one  of  the  aU-time  favorites  in  radio.  For 
two  years  it  has  not  been  heard,  but  in  the  meantime 
Molly  and  Jake  and  their  brood  did  a  stage  play 
based  on  the  radio  series,  called  "Me  and  Molly." 


It's  a  quiet  evening  at  The   Goldbergs   with  Jake    (Phillip 
Loeb),  Molly   (Gertrude  Berg),  Sammy   (Larry  Robinson). 


52 


RADIO    MIRROR    TELEVISION    SECTION 


"  %TV's  Super  Circus,  Sun.,  4:00  P.M.  CST. 


Bret  Morrison,  Arthur   Godfrey,   and   Talent   Scout   Candy   Russell   at  rehearsals 
for     Arthur     Godfrey's     Talent     Scouts,     CBS-TV,    Mondays,     8:30     P.M.     EST. 


So  now  they're  on  the  stage  again  every  Monday 
night,  but  for  the  exclusive  benefit  of  TV  viewers. 
Look  and  listen  at  9  EST,  CBS-TV. 


Mondays  and  Wednesdays,  if  you  hear  a  sudden 
drawl  and  a  chuckle  coming  from  your  television  set, 
one  quick  look  will  confirm  yotir  suspicions — it's  the 
irrepressible  Arthur  Godfrey,  emceeing  his  Arthur 
Godfrey's   Talent   Scouts    (Continued    on   page  89) 

Kathi  Norris  of  WABD's  Television  Shopper  (daily)  displays 
some  children's  hargains   on  her  niece    (1.)    and   daughter. 


rm^. 


mttam 


RADIO   MIRROR     TELEVISION     SECTION 


53 


COAST 

to 

COAST 

in 


TELEVISION 


ALL'S  right  with  television — the  Goldbergs  have 
taken  over!  Last  January  17,  over  the  CBS  net- 
M^ork,  at  9:00  P.M.  EST,  Molly  and  Jake  and 
Sammy  and  Rosalie  and  all  their  relatives  and  their 
neighbors  in  the  Bronx  began  to  brighten  our  screens. 
Complete  episodes  in  themselves,  each  telecast  is 
different,  but  always  the  same  as  far  as  family  life 
and  family  problems  and  family  joys  are  concerned. 
Molly's  sorrows  are  every  mother's  tears — Molly's 
triumphs  are  every  housewife's  overcomings — Molly's 


Eddie  Albert  and  Margo  spent  a  whole  day  last  winter  on  a 
one-minute  snow  scene  fiiraed  for  NBC's  Chevrolet  on  B'way. 


Ringmaster  Claude  Kirchner  shows  the  youngsters  how  to  gral.  penniu 


laughter  is  joy  in  which  every  listener  shares.  There 
something  universal  about  this  woman — a  timeles 
ness  that  few  personalities  have  been  able  to  captui 
Stop  and  think  about  it — The  Goldbergs  went  o 
the  radio  for  the  first  time  on  November  20,  19L' 
During  two  periods  the  show  totaled  seventeen  yea. 
on  the  air,  one  of  the  all-time  favorites  in  radio.  F' ' 
two  years  it  has  not  been  heard,  but  in  the  meantiii 
Molly  and  Jake  and  their  brood  did  a  stage  pi; 
based  on  the  radio  series,   called   "Me  and  Moll^ 

It*s  a  quiet  evening  at   The  Goldbergs  with  Jake    (Phiiln 
Loeb).  Molly    (Gertrude  Berpt,  Sammy    (r_,arry  Robinso<- 


52 


RADIO    MIRROR 


TELEVISION 


SECTION 


BC-TV's  Super  Circus,  Sun.,  4:00  P.M.  CST. 


Bret  Morrison,   Arthur   Godfrey,   and   Talent   Scout   Candy    Russell   at   rcbearssls 
for     Arthur     Godfrey's     Talent     Scouts,     CBS-TV,    Mondays,     8:30     P.M.     EST. 


So  now  they're  on  the  stage  again  every  Monday 
night,  but  for  the  exclusive  benefit  of  TV  viewers. 
Look  and  listen  at  9  EST,  CBS-TV. 


Mondays  and  Wednesdays,  if  you  hear  a  sudden 
drawl  and  a  chuckle  coming  from  your  television  set, 
one  quick  look  will  confii-m  your  suspicions — it's  the 
irrepressible  Arthur  Godfrey,  emceeing  his  Arthur 
Godfrey's    Talent   Scouts    (Continued    on    page  89) 

Kathi  Norris  of  WABD's  Television  Shopper  (daily)  displays 
some   children's  bargains   on  her  niece    (1.)    and   daughter. 


RADIO    MIRROR     TELEVISION     SECTION 


[kt  MY  Gill   liti 


Xfh  j^(mj\di()jb 


m 


L  mm 


bij   \)(m  yaxy 


FIRST  I  want  to  say  that  everything  Doris  Day 
has  written  about  me  is  untrue.  I  haven't  read 
it,  but  I  deny  the  whole  thing.  I  asked  her  to 
let  me  see  it  so  I  could  refute  it  in  a  nice  way, 
instead  of  like  this,  but  she  said  she'd  already 
sent  it  in  to  Radio  Mirror. 

She  didn't  improve  things  any  by  saying,  "I 
thought  it  would  embarrass  you  if  I  read  it 
to  you." 

What  did  she  mean,  "read  it  to  me?"  I  can 
read — ^why,  I  went  to  college!  I  ilemember  those 
happy  days  well — all  three  of  them.  And  they're 
proud  of  me  at  my  old  school.  They've  put  a 
plaque  over  my  old  desk.  It  says  "Bob  Hope 
slept  here." 

One  of  the  nice  things  about  making  a  personal 
appearance  tour  of  the  country  is  that  you  get 
a  chance  to  look  at  famous  landmarks  like  that. 
Another  nice  thing  is  that  you  get  a  chance  to 
really  know  the  people  you're  working  with. 

Doris  joined  the  Tuesday  night  NBC  broadcast 
last  September,  and  she  showed  no  signs  of 
breaking  under  the  strain  of  working  with  me  by 
the  time  we  left  Hollywood  in  January.  But  after 
five  weeks  of  one  night  stands,  I  can  really  give 
you  the  lowdown  on  her. 

It's  one  thing  to  do  a  half-hour  show  on  the 
air  once  a  week  from  Hollywood.  It's  quite  an- 
other thing  to  play  nine  two-and-a-half-hour 
shows  a  week  on  the  road  as  well  as  the  net- 
work show. 

If  there  is  any  gravel  in  a  girl,  that  routine 
will  bring  it  to  the  surface. 

We  set  out  from  Hollywood  on  January  4, 
cheered  on  by  my  friends — ^my  brother  and  two 
others.  It  was  wonderful  to  see  all  of  those 
smiUng  faces  and  to  hear  those  shouts  of  "Keep 
moving — ^you  need  a  change  and  we  need  a 
rest." 

It  did  not  work  out  quite  that  way.  The  hotels 
got  all  oi  my  change  and  the  government  got 
the  rest,  but  we  had  fun,  even  when  we  were  in 
the  air. 

We  traveled  in  a  United  Mainliner  DC6  that 
stayed  with  us  throughout  the  tour.  They  named 
the  ship  after  me,  "The  Bob  Hope"^ — not,  as  has 
been  erroneously  reported,  "The  Hot-Air  Lift." 

A  lump  comes  into  nay  throat  every  time  I 
think  of  that  splendid  flying  crew.  It  isn't  my 
stomach.  My  stomach  went  in  the  other  direc- 
tion. I  leaned  over  to  find  it  as  we  crossed  the 
Santa  Rosa  Mountains   {Continued  on  page  102) 


WHEN  you  first  meet  Bob  Hope  you  think  he 
is  wonderful  because  he  is  kind  and  nice, 
and  the  gags  keep  pouring  out  and  you  have 
a  lot  of  laughs. 

After  you  have  done  five  weeks  of  one  night 
stands  with  him  you  really  know  that  he  is  won- 
derful because  you  have  found  out  a  lot  of 
things  about  him  that  he  would  never  tell — 
things  that  you  would  not  get  a  chance  to  see 
unless  you  were  traveling  with  his  company 
and  spending  practically  every  waking  minute 
caught  up  in  the  activities  that  move  around  him 
like  a  tornado. 

For  the  first  week,  your  head  is  in  a  whirl 
because  there  are  about  fourteen  things  happen- 
ing each  minute  and  every  minute.  There  seem 
to  be  hundreds  of  people  swarming  around  grab- 
bing at  his  attention  and  thousands  of  demands 
on  his  time.  As  you  see  this  go  on  and  on,  you 
understand  why  they  call  him  "Mr.  Perpetual 
Motion,"  and  you  begin  to  wonder  how  he  can 
keep  up  the  pace,  and  when  he  is  going  to  begin 
to  wear  thin  and  snap  at  somebody.  But  it  never 
happens. 

Gradually  you  begin  to  reahze  that  his  good 
nature  goes  on  forever,  and  so  does  his  sense 
of  humor.  It  isn't  an  act.  He  really  is  just  as 
funny  all  the  time  off  the  stage  as  he  is  on.  Then 
you  begin  to  notice  something  about  his  gags. 
They  never  are  mean  and  if  there  is  a  sting  in 
them  it  is  always  pointed  at  Bob,  himself,  never 
at  anybody  else.  He  never  hurts  anybody's  feel- 
ings because  he  really  likes  people  and  he  shows 
it  in  a  hundred  different  ways.  I'll  tell  you  about 
some  of  them  later. 

Though  you  may  die  laughing  at  some  of  his 
gags  about  himself,  nobody  ever  tries  to  get 
funny  by  making  that  kind  of  a  crack  about  him. 
In  the  first  place,  you  respect  him  too  much  for 
all  he  is  and  all  he  has  done  and  all  he  knows. 
In  the  second  place,  he  jvist  isn't  the  kind  of 
man  anybody  gets  fresh  with.  He  is  easy  and 
friendly  and  just  the  same  to  everybody,  from 
the  most  important  people  in  the  land  to  the  guys 
backstage,  but  he  just .  isn't  the  kind  of  a  man 
you  would  play  a  practical  joke  on,  for  instance. 

He  hasn't  any  pose  or  side;  he  always  seems 
to  be  just  himself.  But  pretty  soon  you  find  out 
that  he  is  really  hard  to  get  to  know.  He  seems 
to  have  a  little  wall  buUt  around  him.  It  is  a  wall 
made  of  laughter  and  fun,  but  it  is  there,  just 
the  same.  {Continued  on  page  104) 


54 


The  Bob  Hope  Shoiv  is  heard  Tuesday  nights  at  9,  EST,  over  National  Broadcasting  Company  stations. 


DORIS  DAY 


Sharing  a  program,  they've  learned  a 
lot  about  each  other.  And  both  Doris 
Day  and  Bob  Hope  just  love  to  talk! 


BOB  HOPE 


(mt  e\j^K.  oKj 


As  Herb  Shriner  tells  the  story  of  his  life,  it's  a  sad  one; 


When  he  was  struggling  toward  success,  he  couldn't  afford 


to  date ;  now  that  he's  on  his  way — he  can't  afford  the  time ! 


By  MARTIN  COHEN 


If  yon  know  a  girl  who  won't 
mind  competing  with  a  boat — 
tell  her  about  Herb   Shriner.* 


a  koAJioit 


HERB  SHRINEIR  may  have  to  wait  for  women's  hair 
styles  to  change. 

"I  picture  her  with  soft,  long  hair,  brunette  or 
Titian,"  the  taU,  blond  humorist  tells  you  as  he  describes 
the  kind  of  girl  he'd  like  to  marry.  "She's  petite  and  her 
eyes  should  be  bright  blue  with  a  kind  of  slant,  almost 
Polynesian." 

But  Herb  Shriner,  young  and  handsome  star  of  his 
own  CBS  program,  doesn't  have  time  for  romance. 
When  a  girl  attracts  him,  he  just  can't  do  anything 
about  "it. 

"I  can't  even  get  a  haircut,"  Herb  says.  "That's  the 
way  it  is.  When  you're  poor,  you  can't  afford  a  haircut 
or  much  courtin'  and  when  you're  making  a  buck,  you 
can't  find  the  time." 

He  shrugs  his  shoulders  and  looks  away.  Although 
Earl  WUson  and  MUtori  Berle  have  praised  him  as 
America's  great  new  himaorist,  Herb  is  still  shy. 

"You  know,  I've  never  met  a  girl  who  can  cook  a 
Swiss  steak  like  my  mother,"  Herb  continues.  "But 
that's  not  the  only  quahfication.  I  got  a  lot  of  other 
ideas  about  what  kind  of  girl  she  should  be." 

Herb's  mother  learned  that,  too.  Until  a  year  ago, 
when  she  passed  away,  she  brought  many  girls  around 
to  meet  Herb.  As  usual,  mother  and  son  never  saw 
eye  to  eye  on  women. 

According  to  ofl&cial  records,  Mrs.  Shriner's  only  child 
first  saw  the  Hght  of  day  in  Ohio,  but  according  to  Herb 
he  w^as  born  at  the  age  of  four  when  they  moved  to 
Indiana.  He  has  great  affection  for  the  Hoosiers  and 
their  country. 

"It's  so  peaceful  and  fertile,"  Herb  says,  "that  if  an 
atomic  bomb  were  dropped  there  it  would  just  blossom 
into  a  garden  of  roses." 

He  picked  up  a  lot  of  his  grassroots  humor  at  his 
grandfather's  general  store  near  Fort  Wayne.  It  was 
an  old-fashioned  store  complete  with  pot-beUied  stove, 
cracker  barrels  and  characters  who  never  let  the  crack- 
ers get  stale.  More  merchandise  was  borrowed  than 
bought  and  you  could  always  teU  when  the  candy  was 
fresh.  It  didn't  have  finger  marks. 

Herb  explains,  "I  fig«re  that  the  lo^Eers  used  a  run- 
ning patter  of  jokes  to  divert  grampa's  attention  while 
they  sampled  his  food." 

He  spent  much  time  with  his  grandfather  because 
usually  his  father  and  mother  were  working.  Mrs. 
Shriner  was  a  store  detective  for  many  years  and  Herb 
recalls  he  once  earned  $7  as  a  (Continued  on  page  86) 


The  transcribed  Herb  Shriner  show  is  heard  Mon.-FrI.at6:30P.M. 
EST,  on  WCBS;  at  5:45   on  other  stations  of  the  CBS  network. 


99 


Is  there,  at  last,  a  humorist  who  ~might  fit  into  Will 
Rogers'  shoes?  Acute  show  business  critics  think  CBS's 
Herb  Shriner  is  it.  But  Herb  isn't  resting  on  his  laurels, 
yet.    He  works  so  hard  he's  scarcely  resting  at  all! 


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IF  you  were  in  Hollywood,  in  the  neighborhood  of 
NBC's  Radio  City  studios,  some  Satiu-day  night  at 
about  quarter  of  six  (Pacific  time)  you'd  see  a  lot 
of  eager  people  waiting  to  get  in  to  see  the  Judy 
Canova  Show.  Well,  even  though  you're  not,  most  of 
you,  in  Hollywood,  your  copy  of  Radio  Mirror  this 
month  makes  it  easier  for  you  to  get  into  that  studio 


than  it  is  for  the  folks  right  on  the  spot.  You're  in 
your  comfortable  seat  in  the  maroon-draped  studio  Lj, 
in  plenty  of  time  to  get  the  benefit  of  the  pre-air-time 
warm-up  show  that  Judy  and  her  cast  never  fail  I 
to  put  on.  And  hillbilly  Judy,  trying  desperately  to  fit 
herself  into  the  elegant  suburban  life  of  her  aunt's 
Brentwood   home — and   always   managing    to   do    the 


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nrong  thing — is  jtist  as  funny  to  watch  as  you've 
Inagined,  from  hearing  her,  that  she  would  be. 
When  the  On-the-Air  signal  flashes,  this — up  above 
t-is  the  line-up  you'll  see  on  the  stage,  left  to  right: 
le  Sportsmen  Quartet;  Judy  herself;  orchestra  leader 
jud  Dant,  ready  to  give  the  downbeat;  announcer 
toward  Petrie;  seated,  Mel  Blanc   (who  plays  Pedro 


and  Roscoe  Wortle);  Gale  Gordon  (the  neighbor); 
Hans  Conreid  (Mr.  Hemingway,  William  Boswell) ; 
Ruby  Dandridge  (Geranium);  Vema  Felton  (Patsy 
Pierce).  The  program  is  written  by  Fred  Fox  and 
Arthur  Phillips,  produced  by  Joe  Rhines. 

You  can  hear  the  Judy  Canova  Show  every  Sat- 
urday at  9:30  P.M.  EST,  6:30  P.M.  PST,   on  NBC. 


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IF  you  were  in  Hollywood,  in  the  neighborhood  of 
NBC's  Radio  City  studios,  some  Satxirday  night  at 
about  quarter  of  six  (Pacific  time)  you'd  see  a  lot 
of  eager  people  waiting  to  get  in  to  see  the  Judy 
Canova  Show.  Well,  even  though  you're  not,  most  of 
you,  in  Hollywood,  your  copy  of  Radio  Mirror  this 
month  makes  it  easier  for  you  to  get  into  that  studio 


than  it  is  for  the  folks  right  on  the  spot.  You're  in 
your  comfortable  seat  in  the  maroon-draped  studio 
in  plenty  of  time  to  get  the  benefit  of  the  pre-aii-ti™e 
warm-up  show  that  Judy  and  her  cast  never  la' 
to  put  on.  And  hillbilly  Judy,  trying  desperatel.v  to  W 
herself  into  the  elegant  suburban  life  of  her  aunt 
Brentwood   home — and    aFways   managing    to   do 


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hing — is  just  as  funny  to  watch  as  you've 
'■-.  from  hearing  her,  that  she  would  be. 
the  On-the-Air  signal  flashes,  this — up  above 
ine-up  you'll  see  on  the  stage,  left  to  right: 
ismen  Quartet;  Judy  herself;  orchestra  leader 
■  t,  ready  to  give  the  downbeat;  announcer 
Petrie;  seated,  Mel  Blanc   (who  plays  Pedro 


and  Roscoe  Wortle);  Gale  Gordon  (the  neighbor); 
Hans  Conreid  (Mr.  Hemingway,  William  Bo.swcll); 
Ruby  Dandridge  (Geranium);  Vema  Felton  (Patsy 
Pierce).  The  program  is  written  by  Fred  Fox  and 
Arthur  Phillips,  produced  by  Joe  Rhines. 

You  can  hear  the  Judy  Canova   Show  every  Sat- 
urday at  9:30  P.M.   EST,   6:30  P.M.   PST,   on   NBC. 


we  iearne 


d 


Lawson's  "Frank  Merriwell"  role  expanded  from  an  acting  job  into  a  re- 
search project.  At  Yale,  "Frank's"  Alma  Mater,  he  absorbed  atmosphere. 


60 


Two  branches  of  the  same  art  serve  as  hobbies.  Lawson,  above,  sket- 
ches; Doris  (right),  more  ambitious,  tries  oils — with  a  favorite  model. 


The  doctor's  words 


might  have  plunged  another 


man  into  despair.    But 

Lawson  Zerbe  had  two  safeguards 


courage,  and  Doris 


€^^\ 


By 

DORIS  McWHIRT 

ZERBE 


WhenLawson  asked  for  his  first  date,  he  offered  tickets  to  a  show  as 
his  qualifications.   But  Doris  quickly  discovered  more  important  ones. 


SOMETIMES  I  think  of  it,  to  myself,  as  "the  day  the  roof  caved 
in."  And  then  I  remember  that  it  was  only  the  day  the  roof 
might  have  caved  in  ...  if  Lawson  had  had  just  a  little  less 
courage,  and  if  I  had  had  a  little  less  faith  in  him.  And  I  count 
my  blessings! 

It's  quite  an  experience,  you  see,  sitting  across  a  restaurant 
table  from  the  man  you're  falling  in  love  with,  expecting  the 
gay  and  friendly  words  that  have  been  part  of  his  charm  for 
you,  and  hearing  him  say, .  instead,  "Doris  ...  I've  just  come 
from  my  doctor." 

It  would  have  been  foolish  to  ask  "What's  the  matter?"  Even 
if  I  could  have  spoken,  that  is.  I  just  sat,  waiting,  trying  not  to 
look  as  frightened  as  I  felt.   And  Lawson  told  me. 

A  few  weeks  before,  he'd  had  his  physical  examination  for 
army  service  (this  happened  during  the  war).  He  hadn't  men- 
tioned it  to  me,  thinking  he'd  wait  until  he  got  his  actual  notice 
to  report.  Instead,  he  was  turned  down  .  .  .  because  of  a  heart 
ailment. 

"Which,"  Lawson  told  me  grimly,  "I  never  knew  I  had.  I  went 
to  my  own  doctor,  of  course,  and  he  gave  me  the  works — -cardio- 
graph, everything.  I  got  his  reports  today.  Those  army  doctors 
had  the  right  story,  Doris.   My  heart's  in  bad  shape." 

"How  bad?"  I  asked  at  last.  "Just  because  the  army  wouldn't 
take  you — " 

"The  doctor  ordered  me  to  give  up  radio.  .  .  .  Go  to  some  quiet 
place  and  stagnate.  I  can't  do  that,  Doris.  There's  got  to  be 
some  other  answer."  {Continued  on  page  81) 


Lawson    Zerbe    plays    the    title    role    in    The    Adventures    of 
Frank  Merriwell,  Saturdays  at  2  P.M.  EST,  on  NBC  stations. 


61 


Hie  CKISIS  weleamej 


The  doctor's  words 
might  have  plunged  another 
man  into  despair.    But 
Lawson  Zerbe  had  two  safeguards 
.  .  .  courage,  and  Doris 


By 

DORIS  McWHIRT 

ZERBE 


Lawson's  "Frank  Merriwell"  role  expanded  from  an  acting  job  into  a  re- 
search project.  At  Yale,  "Frank's"  Alma  Mater,  he  absorbed  atmosphere. 


60 


Two  branches  of  the  same  art  serve  as  hobbies.  Lawson,  above,  sket- 
ches; Doris  (right),  more  arabitioQs,  tries  oils — with  a  favorite  model. 


When  Lawson  asked  for  his  first  ilule,  he  offered  tickets  to  a  ►limv  as 
his  qualifications.  But  Doris  quickly  discovered  more  important  ones. 

SOMETIMES  I  think  of  it,  to  myself,  as  "the  day  the  roof  caved 
in  "  And  then  I  remember  that  it  was  only  the  day  the  roof 
might  have  caved  in  ...  if  Lawson  ha,l  had  just  a  little  less 
courage,  and  if  I  had  had  a  little  less  faith  in  him.  And  I  count 
my  blessings! 

It's  quite  an  experience,  you  see,  sittmg  across  a  restaurant 
table  from  the  man  you're  falling  in  love  with,  expectmg  the 
gay  and  friendly  words  that  have  been  part  of  his  charm  for 
you,  and  hearing  him  say,. instead,  "Doris  .  .  .  I've  just  come 
from  my  doctor."  ,      ,     ,  .,     o..   i^ 

It  would  have  been  foolish  to  ask  "What  s  the  matter?  Even 
if  I  could  have  spoken,  that  is.  I  just  sat,  waiting,  trymg  not  to 
look  as  frightened  as  I  felt.   And  Lawson  told  me. 

A  few  weeks  before,  he'd  had  his  physical  examination  for 
army  service  (this  happened  during  the  war).  He  hadn  t  men- 
tioned it  to  me,  thinking  he'd  wait  until  he  got  his  actual  notice 
to  report.   Instead,  he  was  turned  down  .  .  .  because  of  a  heart 

^"^■mich,"  Lawson  told  me  grimly,  "I  never  knew  I  had.  I  went 
to  my  own  doctor,  of  course,  and  he  gave  me  the  works-cardto- 
graph,  everything.  I  got  his  reports  today  Those  army  doctors 
had  the  right  story,  Doris.   My  hearts  in  bad  shape. 

"How  bad?"  I  asked  at  last.   "Just  because  the  army  wouldn  t 

'^"SlcL-  ordered  me  to  give  up  radio.  .  .  ^o  to  some  quiet 
place  and  stagnate.  I  can't  do  that,  Doris.  There  s  got  to  be 
some  other  answer."  (ConUnued  on  page  81) 


l.ao 
Frank  M 


Zerbe    pl"y«    ih 


,i,le    role    ir,    The 
day  at  2  P.M.  EST.  o 


\^* 


^^%^ 


■** 


■^^ 


weet 


Top  left.  Two-tone  Chocolate  Pie;  cen- 
ter, Cocoanut  Cream  Tarts ;  right.  Rum 
Cream  Peach  Pie.  And  how  they  taste! 


SPRING  is  here.  And  when  the  soft  little  breezes  come  my 
way,  I  start  thinking  about  something  different  for  dessert. 
Something  sweet  and  good,  of  course — but  something  re- 
freshing too.  That's  when  I  like  to  trot  out  a  refrigerator  pie. 

These  pies  are  good  year-round,  of  course.  Chocolate  and 
cocoanut  cream  are  probably  your  old  family  favorites.  But 
these  are  all  a  little  extra  special — a  touch  of  rum  here,  an 
extra  garnish  there.  Rum  cream  peach  pie  and  nesselrode  pie 
are  in  the  best  French  manner.  Straight  from  the  Deep  South 
comes  lime  pie — and  there's  one  that  looks  as  springish  as  it 
tastes! 

Start  with  a  good  pastry  shell.  Dress  it  up  with  a  fancy 
edge,  if  you  like.  If  you  want  to  serve  the  pie  on  a  plate  (as 
in  the  picture),  just  remove  the  shell  from  the  tin  while 
it's  still  warm.  Want  to  make  the  pastry  part  extra  good 
eating?  Brush  it  with  melted  jelly,  then  dust  it  with  very 
finely  chopped  nuts,  before  pouring  in  the  filling. 

All  these  pies  will  taste  and  look  better  if  they  are  chilled 
for  two  or  three  hours  before  serving.  And  with  a  steaming 
hot  beverage,  they're  a  perfect  ending  for  any  meal! 

PIE  SHELL 


1  cup,  pltis  2  tbsps.  sifted  enriched 

flour 
%  tsp.  salt 


6  tbsps.  shortening 
3  tbsps.  ice  water 


Sift  flour  and  salt  together  into  mixing  bowl.  Gradually  cut 
in  shortening  with  a  pastry  blender  or  two  knives,  until  lumps 
are  the  size  of  small  peas.  Sprinkle  ice  water  a  tablespoon  at 
a  time  over  the  mixture.  With  a  fork  lightly  blend  in  each  bit 
of  water,  until  pastry  clings  together,  leaving  bowl  clean. 
Wrap  dough  in  waxed  paper  and  chill.  Roll  out  dough  on  a 
lightly  floured  board  to  a  lOVa-inch  circle.  Fit  into  a  9-inch 
pie  tin  with  a  1-inch  overlap  all  around.  Trim  overlap  evenly 
and  fold  under  to  make  a  double  standing  rim.  Flute  the 
edge,  or  press  down  with  fork  to  make  a  lacy  pattern.  Prick 
entire  surface  with  a  fork.  Bake  in  a  very  hot  oven  (450°  F.) 
about  15  minutes,   or  until  lightly  brown. 

To  Make  Tarts:  Cut  rolled  out  dough  into  circles  large 
enough  to  cover  your  tart  pans.  (Use  the  bottoms  of  muffin 
tins  or  custard  cups.)  Press  firmly  onto  pan  (do  not  stretch). 
Pinch  excess  into  folds.  Prick  well  all  over  with  fork.  Bake  in 
very  hot  oven  (450°  F.)  12  to  15  minutes.  Makes  3  to  5  tarts. 


TWO-TONED  CHOCOLATE  PIE 


By  KATE   SMITH 

RADIO  MIRROR 

FOOD   COUNSELOR 


Listen  to  Kate  Smith  Speaks, 
12  Noon,  and  Kate  Smith  Sings, 
12:15      P.M.,      Mon-Fri.,      MBS. 


3  squares    (3  oz.)    unsweetened 

chocolate,  divided 
2  tbsps.  butter 
Vs  cup  cornstarch 
1  cup  sugar 
V4  tsp.  salt 
2V2  cups  milk,  scalded 


3  eggs,  separated 
%  tsp.  vanilla 

2  tbsps.  rum 

1  baked  9-Lnch  pie  shell 

1  cup  heavy  cream  (optional) 
1/4  cup  shaved  semi-sweet  choco- 
late (optional) 


Melt  1  square  of  the  chocolate  with  butter  (over  hot  water) 
in  the  top  of  a  double  boiler.  Mix  cornstarch,  sugar  and  salt 
and  stir  into  chocolate,  mixing  until  well  blended.  Add  1  cup 
of  hot  milk  and  stir  until  smooth.  Add  remaining  milk  and 
cook,  stirring  occasionally,  until  smooth  and  thick  (about  15 
minutes).  Beat  egg  yolks  well.  Stir  in  a  little  of  the  chocolate 
mixture.  Then  pour  into  hot  mixture  and  cook  2  minutes 
more,  stirring  constantly.  Pour  half  of  this  filUng  into  a  bowl 
and  cool.  Grate  remaining  chocolate  and  add  to  filling  in 
double  boiler  and  stir  until  well  blended  (about  3  minutes). 
Pour  into  shell.  To  the  remaining  filling,  add  vanilla  and  rum. 
Beat  egg  whites  until  they  stand  in  peaks  and  fold  gently  into 
cooled  chocolate  filling.  Pile  lighter  {Continued  on  page  88) 


RADIO      MIRROR      FOR       BETTER      LIVING 


63 


A  MA  PERKINS  STORY 


Hi^nm 


This  episo<ie  from  the 
life  of  Ma  Perkins  is  told 
here  for  the  first  time 
in  story  form.  Ma  Per- 
kins is  heard  Mon.-Fri. 
at  3:15  EST,  on  NBC, 
and  at  1:15  EST  on  CBS. 


i^Xr  dtrina    of   beadi  .   .   .   agaitiAl 
a    life    of    luxuru.       aiJid 
^larr    liaue    this    cliolce    to 
mcihef       yji — ai     1 1' I  a    f-^erk, 
a — licid  tier   Iteart  alreadt 


ini 


dai 


lier    til 


Qiuen    her    the    aniwer 


1|R.  EDDIE  MARKEL,  proprietor 

||of  the  almost-exclusive  Teddy 
i'-lBear  Club  and  various  other 
allied  and  prosperous  enterprises, 
was  a  self-made  man.  The  police 
had  their  version  of  how  he'd 
warked  his  way  out  of  an  orphanage 
and  into  a  half-million  dollars  in 
some  thirty-odd  ruthless  years;  Eddie 
himself  attributed  his  success  to 
knowing  what  he  wanted  and  going 
after  it. 

Just  now  he  wanted,  to  the  point 
of  dementia,  his  newest  hat-check 
girl  at  the  Teddy  Bear  Club. 

She  was  an  odd  one,  this  girl  who 
called  herself  Jane  Smith,  with  her 
frightened  dark  eyes  and  her  wax- 
like skin  and  her  delicate  bones  and 
her  air  of  gentle  distinction  .  .  .  and 
her  cough.  Eddie  noticed  the  cough 
the  first  night  she  came  to  work  at 
the  Teddy  Bear;  it  was  his  excuse 
for  calling  her  into  his  office  on  the 
second  night. 

She  sat  opposite  his  desk  on  a 
shiny  green  leather  chair,  and  even 
though  she  looked  small  and  pale 
and  frightened,  she  wore  her  simple 
uniform  like  a  Paris  original.  Eddie 
had  noticed  that  about  her,  too.  Get 
her  into  some  real  clothes,  he 
thought.   .  .  . 

"I  just  wanted  to  ask  how  you  feel 


64 


■'A  kid's  necklace!"  snorted  Eddie.    But  Ma  saw  the  look  in  Starr's  eyes  as  she  held  up  the  gift. 


tonight,"  he  said  easily.  "I  thought 
I  heard  you  coughing  once  or  twice, 
back  among  the  coats  and  hats." 

She  mustered  a  faint  smile.  "Once 
or  twice,"  she  agreed.  "It's  getting 
better,  though." 

"And  the  job?"  he  asked.  "How  do 
you  like  it?" 

"It's — "  But  she  couldn't  lie,  he 
noted  with  satisfaction.  "It's  all 
right,"  she  said  hopelessly. 

"Which  means  that  it  isn't,"  he 
laughed.  "It's  not  what  you're  used 
to,  is  that  it?" 

"Well — it  doesn't  take  much  brains 
to  put  coats  on  hangers." 

"No,"  he  agreed.  "But  then,  we 
don't  pay  much.  We  don't  pay  for 
brains." 

She  smiled  wryly.  "It's  the  only 
job  I  could  get.  Maybe  that  means 
I  don't  have  any  brains." 

"Maybe,"  said  Eddie.  "But  maybe 
on  the  other  hand  you  have  other 
assets.  On  which  you  could  capi- 
talize." 

He  saw  the  quick  alarm  in  her 
eyes,  and  he  was  angry  at  himself 
for  the  stupidly  premature  remark. 
He  was  angry,  too,  that  she  must 
have  heard  his  reputation.  Ordi- 
narily, he  didn't  mind  too  much  what 
people  said  about  Eddie  Markel's  way 
with  women,  but  for  some  reason,  he 


hadn't  wanted  this  girl  to  know  it. 

"They're  getting  busy  out  there, 
Mr.  Markel,"  she  said  quickly,  rising. 
"If  there's  nothing  special  you 
want — " 

"Sit  down,"  he  said  grimly.  "Yes, 
there  is  something  special  I  want  to 
ask.  You've  run  away  from  home, 
haven't  you?"  Pretending  not  to 
notice  the  sudden  intake  of  her 
breath,  he  went  on,  "Or  are  you  run- 
ning away  from  a  boy  friend?  Or 
college?  Were  the  teachers  mean  to 
you?" 

"College?"  Again  the  faint  smile, 
and  she  looked  relieved  that  he 
hadn't,  after  all,  known  exactly  what 
she  was  running  from.  "No,  I  wasn't 
in  college." 

"You're  a  college  type,  you  know," 
Eddie  confided.  "Respectable,  good 
background,  dainty,  clean  cut — or 
maybe  it's  your  voice.  You  speak 
very  well."  And  he  was  proud  of 
himself  for  his  own  speech.  Once  he 
would  have  told  her  that  she  "talked 
good." 

"My  father  was  a  great  believer  in 
grammar,"  she  said.  "He  spoke  very 
well  himself." 

"What  was  your  father?"  Eddie 
asked.    "A  minister?" 

"A—"  He  couldn't  read  the 
thoughts     behind     her      eyes.      He 


Joseph    is    played 
by  Joe  Helgeson. 


65 


Evey  is  played  by  Kay  Campbell, 


Fay   is   played   by    Rita    Ascot. 


Paulette:    Judith    Lockser. 


R 

M 

66 


Shuffle:    Charles   Egelston. 


WHAIS     RE Al 


Willy  Fitz,  Evey's  husband,  is  played  by  Murray  Forbes. 


couldn't  know  that  she  was  seeing  her 
father,  the  polished,  persuasive  "Pro- 
fessor" Bassett  speaking  of  God  and  life 
and  love  eternal  to  the  aged  and  the 
lonely — to  the  well-to-do  aged  and 
lonely — until  he  was  stopped  finally, 
forever,  by  the  citizens  of  a  little  town 
called  Rushville  Center  and  a  little  old 
lady  called  Ma  Perkins. 

"No,"  said  the  girl.  "He  wasn't  a 
minister.  I'd  rather  not  talk  about  my- 
self, Mr.  Markel,  if  you  don't  mind.  I 
told  you  I'd  like  to  keep  my  job,  and  so 
of  course  I'm  a  little  afraid  of  you — it's 
nothing  personal  so  far  as  you're  con- 
cerned, but — " 

"But  you  know  I'd  like  you  to  be  my 
girl,  don't  you,  Jane?"  He  was  smiling 
lazily,  keeping  it  all  sounding  very 
casual.  She  gasped,  and  before  she 
could  reply  he  leaned  forward  and 
pointed  to  a  button  on  the  wall.  "See 
that?"  he  said  briskly.  "Punch  it — it 
opens  a  closet.  I  want  you  to  try  on 
what's  in  there.  Go  on,"  he  ordered  im- 
patiently as  the  telephone  rang.  "Do  as 
I  say." 

He  reached  for  the  phone.  She  rose 
as  if  mesmerized,  her  eyes  fixed  on  his 
face,  pushed  the  button. 

"There's  a  plain  clothes  man  here,  Mr. 
Markel,"  said  his  switchboard  operator, 
"from  the  Bureau  of  Missing  Persons. 
Shall  I—" 

"I'll  be  down  right  away,"  Eddie  told 
her.  But  he  wasn't  fast  enough.  He  had 
to  watch  the  girl's  face  as  she  touched 
the  mink  coat  that  hung  in  the  closet, 
had  to  urge  her  again  to  put  it  on.  And 
when  she  obeyed,  moving  like  a  person 
in  a  dream,  he  had  seen  her  pull  the 


silky  rich  folds  around  her.  It  was  thus 
that  Sergeant  Leahy,  entering  im- 
invited,  found  them,  the  girl  in  the 
mink  coat  and  Eddie  watching  her 
avidly. 

"Now  listen,  copper — "  Eddie  swung 
toward  him. 

"Young  lady,  you  can  come  with  me 
now,  or  you  can  come  after  work,"  said 
the  sergeant,  ignoring  Eddie.  "There's 
a  fellow  downstairs  who's  put  a  lot  of 
sweat  and  heartaches  and  life's  blood 
into  looking  for  you.  If  you  don't  come 
down  until  four  A.M.,  I  guess  he'll  have 
to  wait,  but  he'll  be  waiting.  Yoior  hus- 
band, girlie.    One  Joe." 

"Joseph?"  she  whispered.  "Down- 
stairs?" 

"Husband!"  Eddie  repeated.  But  he 
wasn't  really  surprised.  "Have  you  a 
husband,  Jane?" 

"Joe,"  confirmed  the  Sergeant.  "Nice 
fellow.  And  her  name  isn't  Jane.  It's 
Starr." 

"Starr,"  repeated  Eddie.  "Are  you 
married?" 

Her  frantic  glance  went  from  him  to 
the  officer.  "I — I — tell  the  boy  who's 
waiting  to  go  away.  I  can't  see  him. 
I'm  very  busy  with  Mr.  Eddie  Markel 
— who's  just  given  me  a  lovely  fur  coat. 
Haven't  you,  Mr.  Markel?" 

"Why,  yes,"  said  Eddie  softly,  pleased, 
hardly  believing  his  luck.  "Yes,  I  cer- 
tainly have." 

"Now  just  a  minute,"  said  the  ser- 
geant desperately.  "You  don't  know 
what  you're  doing,  girlie.  This  guy's  a 
crook  and  a  liar  and  he's  got  a  record  as 
long  as  your  arm,  and  when  he  throws 
you  away,  you  won't  even  have  a  fur 


FOR  YOD 


I- 

i^at   fc 


at  for  a  souvenir.  Now  come  on 
downstairs  and  make  up  with — " 

"You  heard  the  lady!"  Eddie  barked. 
"Get  going,  copper.  If  you're  coming 
here  to  preach,  bring  a  warrant  next 
time." 

"Maybe  I  will,"  said  the  sergeant. 
"If,  for  instance,  we  find  out  this  girl 
isn't  quite  as  old  as  you  may  think  she 
is—" 

"Oh,  let  me  alone!"  The  girl's  voice, 
low  and  intense,  cut  across  his  words 
like  a  scream.  "Tell  Joe — tell  him  to 
let  me  alone!  Tell  him  if  he  doesn't, 
I'll  go  someplace  else!  Tell  him  to  go 
home  where  he  belongs  and  I  never 
want  to  see  him  again — ever,  ever,  un- 
til I'm  dead!" 

"Okay — okay."     The  sergeant  moved 

I  toward  the  door.     "But  you're  making 

a   big  mistake.     You're — "     The   door 

closed  on  his  words.     Eddie  turned  to 

the  girl. 

"How  old  are  you,  Starr?  Is  that 
lyour  name?" 

I     Her  lips  trembled.     "I  never  want  to 
(hear  it  again!" 

"It's  a  pretty  name,"  said  Eddie,  try- 
ling  it  over  again  on  his  tongue.  "Starr. 
It  suits  you.   You're  no  plain  Jane.   But 
'how  old  are  you?" 
'     "I'm  going  to  be  nineteen." 

"Nineteen."  He  sighed.  She  was 
even  younger  than  he'd  thought.  Al- 
though just  now,  with  her  lips  shaking 
and  her  eyes  held  wide  to  keep  back 
the  tears,  she  looked  about  fourteen. 

"Mr.  Markel,"  she  said,  "I  said  some- 
thing in  front  of  that  policeman  that 
;I —  Well,  I  really  don't  want  this  coat. 
.'All  I  want  is  a  job.  And  I'm  all  mixed 
,up  about  some  things,  so  I'd  rather  you 
'wouldn't —  I'd  rather  not  be —  Oh,  gee, 
I'm  scared!" 


^rDDIE  laughed  sympathetically.     "Of 

"^   course  you're  scared!     A  policeman, 

J  and  that  crazy  kid  who's  looking  for 

you — enough  to  scare  anybody.     Now 

I'll  tell  you,  you  take  the  rest  of  the 

night  off — take  three  or  four  nights  off," 

he   amended,   thinking  rapidly.     "Rest 

up,  and  get  rid  of  that  cold.    And  don't 

-worry  about  your  job.     The  policeman 

jwas  right,  Starr.    I'm  a  roughneck,  but 

I  you're  a  nice  girl.    And  maybe  I  want 

you  around  to  help  me  be  nice.     So 

don't  worry  about  your  job.    Just  rest 

fup,  and  get  beautiful,  and  your  job'll 

/keep  for  a  long,  long  time." 

Starr  accepted — perhaps  because  she 
:was  obviously  too  tired  and  ill  to  do 
(Otherwise.  But  Eddie  left  her  to  re- 
move the  coat  and  repair  her  make-up 
and  went  down  the  stairs  to  the  cafe 
floor  whistling  softly,  feeling  that 
(things  were  working  out  very  well. 
With  Starr  away  from  the  club  for  a 
I  few  days,  even  if  anyone  did  come  back 
I  looking  for  her.  .  .  .  Then,  at  the  foot  of 
ithe  stairs,  his  whistle  died  abruptly. 

His  headwaiter,  Alfredo,  and  the 
boioncers,  Gus  and  Hoffman,  were  at  the 
door,  determinedly  struggling  to  keep 
out  a  young  man  who  seemed  equally 
determined  to  get  in.  The  young  man 
was  tall  and  slightly  stooped,  and  in 
spite  of  having  what  Eddie  would  have 
called  a  studious  face,  he  was  doing 
very  well  at  holding  his  own  against 
the  three  of  them. 


It's  Ma  Perkins  to  whom  all  of  Rushville  Center  turns  in  times  of  trouble. 


"I  tell  you,"  he  was  insisting,  "I  came 
to  see  Mr.  Markel.  And  I'm  going  to 
see  him — " 

Eddie  went  swiftly  forward.  "Scram, 
stupids,"  he  ordered  his  men.  "Try  us- 
ing your  brains  instead  of  your  muscles 
for  a  change.  As  for  you — "  he  turned 
to  the  young  man — "I'm  Eddie  Markel. 
What  do  you  want?" 

"My  wife.  I  know  she's  here,  and  I 
don't  want  to  hear  any  more  blither 
about  her  being  busy  with  you  and 
mink  coats.  I've  come  to  take  her 
home." 

"Your  wife,"  Eddie  repeated  quietly. 
"Suppose  I  say  she's  my  sweetheart? 
That  makes  us  even,  doesn't  it?  And 
suppose  she  doesn't  want  to  go  with 
you?" 

"She's  not  your  sweetheart!"  the 
young  man  exploded.  "Next  you'll  be 
telling  me  she's  your  partner  in  this 
dance  hall,  or  whatever  you've  got 
here!  I  never  heard  anything  so  crazy — " 

Eddie  shrugged.  "Maybe,"  he  said. 
"Suppose  we  leave  it  up  to  her.  You 
can  see  her.  Pugnacious.  First  door  up 
those  stairs,  in  my  office.  But  if  she 
doesn't  want  to  see  you,  suppose  you  go 
back  where  you  came  from,  and  fast, 
and  don't  come  back.    Fair  enough?" 

"Fair — "  The  young  man  hesitated, 
and  burst  out,  "I'm  not  making  any 
bargains  with  you!  I'll  do  as  I  think 
best—" 

"Oh,  no."  Eddie  shook  his  head.  "I 
think  you'll  play  it  square.  You're  the 
type.  And  when  you've  seen  her,  may- 
be you'll  see  something  else — that  it's 
just  possible  I'm  better  for  her  than 
you  are." 


The  young  man  bounded  past  him  up 
the  stairs.  Eddie  looked  after  him  for 
a  moment,  then  he  went  into  the  bar  for 
a  drink.  He  was  smiling  confidently, 
but  in  his  heart  was  the  closest  thing  to 
a  prayer  that  Eddie  Markel  had  ever 
shaped. 

In  Eddie's  office,  Starr  had  hung  the 
coat  away  in  the  closet  and  was  trying, 
with  lipstick  and  finger  tip,  to  rub  some 
color  into  her  pale  mouth  when  the 
door  opened. 

"If  it's  all  right  with  you,  Mr. 
Markel,"  she  said  without  looking  up, 
"I  think  I'll  leave  now —  Joe!" 

"Hello,  Starr,"  he  said  quietly.  And 
then  he  looked  at  her,  really  looked  at 
her.  "Honey,"  he  said  brokenly,  "you 
look  terrible.  You're  thin — "  His  voice 
gave  out.  He  stopped,  swallowing. 
"You — you  look  so  thin,  Starr!" 

For  a  terrified  moment,  she  thought 
he  was  going  to  cry.  Then  he  moved  as 
if  to  scoop  her  into  his  arms,  to  warm 
her  thinness,  her  coldness  against  him. 
She  backed  a  step  convulsively.  Her 
voice  rose  to  a  scream. 

"Get  away  from  me,  Joe!  Don't! 
Go  away!" 

He  shook  his  head,  bewildered. 
"What's  the  matter,  Starr?  What's 
happened?     What's  happening?" 

She'd  backed  to  the  desk,  as  far  as 
she  could  go.  But  Joseph  had  stopped, 
too,  and  she  drew  a  deep  breath,  trying 
to  control  herself. 

"Nothing's  happened,"  she  said,  "ex- 
cept that  I've  left  you,  for  good.     Go    " 
home.     Go  back  to  college  and  forget    ^ 
that  you— Joe,  how  can  you  be  here? 
Why  aren't  you  (Continued  on  page  91) 

67 


w 


H 
M 

68 


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JEAN  DICKENSON-was  born  into 
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have  followed  in  their  footsteps  if  she 
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voice.  After  considerable  experience 
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Music  (Sun.,  9:30  P.M.  EST)  on  which 
she    has    been    heard    for   nine    years. 


tS 


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funds  ran  low.  Since  he  was  fond  of 
eating  he  turned  to  the  stage  where  he 
found  almost  immediate  success.  That 
was  fifteen  years  ago  and  since  then  he 
has  appeared  in  twenty-three  Broad- 
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5:30 

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8:00 
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Great  Gildersleeve 

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Hour,  Ted  Mack, 
M.C. 

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with  James  Melton 

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house 
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BEVERLY  YOUNGER— who  plays 
leading  roles  in  Curtain  Time,  Wed. 
NBC,  has  been  a  regular  trouper  ever 
since  the  age  of  two  when  she  made 
her  debut  as  Little  Willie  in  "East 
Lynne."  She  has  appeared  in  leading 
roles  on  the  stage  and  made  her  radio 
debut  in  1936.  If  she  ever  retires,  she 
says  it  will  be  in  order  to  concen- 
trate on  homemaking  or  social  work. 


69 


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10:00 
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My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Dorothy  Kilgallen 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
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11:30 

11:45 

We  Love  and  Learn 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
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Gabriel  Heatter's 

Mailbag 
Lanny  Ross 

Jane  Jordan 

At  Home  With  the 

Kirkwoods 
Ted  Malone 

Galen  Drake 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
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12:30 
12:45 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 
Words  and  Music 

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Kate  Smith  Sings 

News 

Welcome  Travelers 
Maggi  McNeills 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

Luncheon  With  Lopez 

Robert  McCormick 
Jack  Kilty 

Luncheon  at  Sardi's 
Happy  Gang 
Hollywood  Theater 

Nancy  Craig 
Dorothy  Dix 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 
The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 

Today's  Children 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  For  A  Day 
Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
What  Makes  You 
Tick? 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Ycung 
Right  to  Happiness 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Show 
Dixie  Barn  Dance 

Gang 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
House  Party 

David  Harum 
Hilltop  House 
Your  Lucky  Strike 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Sackstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Misc.  Programs 
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Two  Ton  Baker 

Kay  Kyser 
Ethel  and  Albert 

Hint  Hunt 

Winner  Take  All 
Robert  Q.  Lewis 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

(Vhen  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Straight  Arrow 

Capt.  Midnight 
Tom  Mix 

The  Green  Hornet 
Sky  King 

Galen  Drake 

The  Chicagoans 
Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

Bill  Stern 
Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 

"You  and " 

Herb  Shriner  Time 
Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
Art  Van  Damme 
Quintet 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 
Dinner  Date 
News 
Inside  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Counter  Spy 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Aldrich  Family 
Burns  and  Allen 

Western  Hit  Revue 

Abbott  and  Costello 

Our  Job  is  Man- 
hattan 

The  F.B.I.  In  Peace 

and  War 
Mr.  Keen 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Al  Jolson  Show 
Dorothy  Lamour 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Mysterious  Traveler 
Bill  Henry 

Personal  Autograph 
Jo  Stafford  Show 

Suspense 

Crime  Photographer 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Screen  Guild  Theatre 
Fred  Waring  Show 

Dance  Orch. 

Child's  World 

Hallmark  Playhouse 
First  Nighter 

R 
IVI 

70 


QUINCY  HOWE— the  CBS  news  ana- 
lyst (Mon.-Fri.  11:10  P.M.  EST)  was 
born  in  Boston  and  educated  at  Har- 
vard. Upon  graduation  he  joined  the 
staff  of  Atlantic  Monthly  Later,  he 
worked  for  Simon  &  Schuster  as  head 
of  the  editorial  department.  His  first 
taste  of  radio  came  when  he  became  a 
regular  commentator  for  WQXR,  and 
in  1942  he  joined  CBS  as  news  anaylst. 


KAY  ARMEN— the  singer  on  Stop 
The  Music  (ABC,  Sundays),  Saturday 
Night  Serenade  with  Vic  Damone 
(Saturdays,  NBC)  got  her  start  at 
"WSM,  Nashville,  Tenn.,  after  graduat- 
ing from  a  Chicago  high  school  where 
she  was  an  A  student.  A  year  later, 
1944,  she  decided  to  try  her  luck  in 
New  York,  and,  as  everyone  knows, 
she  found  fame  immediately. 


10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 


11:00 
11:15 


11:30 
11:45 


Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
The  Brighter  Day 


We  Love  and  Learn 

Jack  Berch 

Lora  Lawton      


Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 


Passing  Parade 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

Gabriel  Heatter's 

Mailbag 
Lanny  Ross 


My  True  Story 


Betty  Crocker  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
The  Listening  Post 


Jane  Jordan 

At  Home  With  the 

Kirkwoods 
Ted  Malone 

Galen  Drake 


Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 


Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 


AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 


12:30 
12:45 


1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 


2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 


3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 


4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 


Echoes  From  the 

Tropics 
Words  and  Music 


U.  S.  Marine  Band 

Robert  McCormick 
Jack  Kilty 


Double  or  Nothing 

Today's  Children 
Light  of  the  World 


Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 


Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 


When  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 


Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Kate  Smith  Sings 

News 


Luncheon  at  Sardi's 
Happy  Gang 
Hollywood  Theater 


Queen  For  A  Day 
Golden  Hope  Chest 


Bkfst.  In  Hollywood 
Bride  and  Groom 


Red  Benson  Movie 

Show 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 


Misc.  Programs 
Johnson  Family 
Misc.  Programs 
Two  Ton  Baker 


Superman 

Capt.  Midnight 
Tom  Mix 


Welcome  Travelers 
Maggie  McNeills 


Nancy  Craig 
Dorothy  Dix 


Ladies  Be  Seated 
House  Party 


Kay  Kyser 
Ethel  and  Albert 


Challenge  of  the 

Yukon 
Jack  Armstrong 


Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 


Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 


Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
What  Makes  You 
Tick? 


David  Harum 
Hilltop  House 
Your  Lucky  Strike 


Hint  Hunt 

Winner  Take  All 
Robert  Q.  Lewis 


Galen  Drake 

The  Chicagoans 
Alka  Seltzer  Time 


EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 


News 
Bill  Stern 


9:00 
9:15 
9:30 

9:45 


10:00 
10:15 
10:30 


Local  Programs 


6:45 

Sunoco  News 

7:00 

Chesterfield  Club 

7:15 

News  of  the  World 

7:30 

7:45 

H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

8:00 

Cities  Service  Band 

8:15 

Of  America 

8:30 

Jimmy  Durante 

8:45 

Show 

Eddie  Cantor  Show 
Red  Skelton  Show 


Life  of  Riley 
Sports 


Local  Programs 


Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Dinner  Date 

News 

Inside  of  Sports 


Great  Scenes  From 

Great  Plays 
Yours  For  A  Song 


Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Enchanted  Hour 


Meet  the  Press 
Dance  Orch. 


Eric  Sevareid 

You  and " 

Herb  Shriner  Time 
Lowell  Thomas 


Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Lone  Ranger 


Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15  . 

Edward  R.  Murrow 


The  Fat  Man 
This  Is  Your  FBI 


Break  the  Bank 
The  Sheriff 


Boxing  Bouts 


Jack  Carson  Show   j 
My  Favorite  Husbanl 


Ford  Theatre 


Philip  Morris  Play- 
house 


^^^^I^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^I^^^^^^hK^^^IB^ 

A.IVI. 

H3G 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Mind  Your  Manners 
Coffee  in  Waslilngton 

Paul  Neilson,  News 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Shoppers  Special 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

Garden  Gate 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 
10:45 

Archie  Andrews 
Mary  Lee  Taylor 

Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Jerry  and  Skye 
Albert  Warner 

Concert  of  Amer- 

can  Jazz 
Big  and  Little  Club 
Saturday  Strings 

The  Garden  Gate 
Romance 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

Meet  the  Meeks 
Smilin'  Ed  McConnell 

Hormel  Girls  Corps 
Magic  Rhythm 

Abbott  and  Costello 
Whafs  My  Name? 

Let's  Pretend 
Junior  Miss 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Arthur  Barriault 

Smoky  Mt.  Hayride 

Junior  Junction 

Theatre  of  Today 

12:15 

Public  Affair 

12:30 

Luncheon  With  Lopez 

News 

American  Farmer 

Grand  Central 

12:45 

Station 

1:00 

Nat'l  Farm  Home 

Luncheon  At  Sardi's 

Maggie  McNeills, 

County  Fair 

1:15 

Herb  Sheldon 

1:30 

R.F.D.  America 

Symphonies  For 

U.  S.  Navy  Hour 

Give  and  Take 

1:45 

Youth 

2:00 

Frank  Merriwell's 

Stars  Over  Holly- 

2:15 

Adventures 

wood 

2:30 

Edward  Tomllnson 

Family  Theater 

2:45 

Report  From  Europe 

3:00 

Pioneers  of  Music 

Proudly  We  Hail 

3:15 

3:30 

The  Clock 

Local  Programs 

3:45 

4:00 

Roy  McKinney 

Hobby  Lobby 

4:15 

Echoes  From  the 
Tropics 

4:30 

Charlie  Slocum 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

4:45 

Radio  Reporter 

First  Church  of 
Christ  Science 

5:00 

The  Lassie  Show 

Russ  Hodges  Quiz 

Chuck  Foster 

5:15 

Wormwood  Forest 

True  or  False 

Dance  Music 

Make  Way  For 
Youth 

5:30 

Red  Barber's  Club- 
house 

5:45 

Dr.  1.  Q.  Jr. 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

Peter  Roberts 
Religion  in  the  News 
NBC  Symphony 

Music 

Bands  For  Bonds 

Speaking  of  Songs 
Jack  Beall 

News  From  Wash- 
ington 

Memo  From  Lake 
Success 

Saturday  Sports 
Review 

Larry  Lesueur 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Vic  Damone,  Kay 
Armen 

Guess  Who? 

Robert  Hurliegh 
News 

Treasury  Bond  Show 

Winner  Take  All 

Camel  Carvan  with 
Vaughn  Monroe 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Hollywood  Star 
Theatre 

Truth  or  Conse- 
quences 

Twenty  Questions 
Take  a  Number 

Starring  Kay  Starr 
Famous  Jury  Trials 

Gene  Autry  Show 

Adventures  of  Philip 
Marlowe 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Your  Hit  Parade 
Judy  Canova  Show 

Life  Begins  at  80 
Guy  Lombardo 

Little  Herman 

Drama 
The  Amazing  Mr. 

Malone 

Gang  Busters 
Tales  of  Fatima 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Day  in  the  Life  of 

Dennis  Day 
Grand  Ole  Opry 

Theatre  of  the  Air 

Musical  Etching 
Hayloft  Hoedown 

Sing  It  Again 

National  Guard  Mili- 
tary Ball 

TOM  HOWARD— the  quiz  master  on 
It  Pays  To  Be  Ignorant,  (Sun.  10:30 
P.M.  EST,  CBS)  came  to  radio  after 
years  of  vaudeville  and  movies.  His 
real  name  is  Tom  Black  but  he 
changed  it — to  spare  his  mother's  feel- 
ings. She  wanted  him  to  be  a  clergy- 
man. Tom  was  married  to  Ruth  Berg 
39  years  ago.  They  have  a  daughter, 
Ruth  and  son,  Thomas. 


QUIZ  CUAlOeUE 


Notes  to  keep  your  Radio  Mirror 

Quiz    Catalogue   up   to   date 

CBS's  big  Saturday  night  giveaway  show  Sing  It  Again 
had  a  distinguished  creator,  the  big  boss  himself, 
William  S.  Paley.  When  the  network's  handsome  and 
brilliant  chief  executive  noticed  the  meteoric  success  of 
ABC's  Stop  the  Music,  he  developed  a  similar  project  for 
his  own  web.  That  was  last  April  and  now,  after  more 
than  40  consecutive  broadcasts,  Sing  It  Again  is  flourishing 
and  helping  you  phone  subscribers  and  radio  fans  win 
extravagant  prizes. 

Sing  It  Again  differs  sharply  from  the  ABC  hour  quiz  in 
two  specific  ways.  It  stresses  top  flight  musical  entertain- 
ment and  it  uses  the  parody  format  for  brain-busters. 

Such  well-known  recording  and  radio  performers  as 
young  Brooklyn-born  Alan  Dale,  Eugenie  Baird,  who  used 
to  chirp  with  Bing  Crosby,  The  Ames  Brothers,  ciear- 
puffing  Bob  Howard,  and  Ray  Bloch's  crack  21-piece 
orchestra  sing  and  play  well  known  popular  songs.  Then 
they  do  them  again,  with  specially  written  parody  versions 
containing  clues  to  persons,  places,  and  things.  Phone 
listeners,  picked  at  random  from  a  collection  of  U.  S. 
telephone  directories,  are  asked  to  identify  the  parodies, 
then  qualify  for  jackpots  ranging  from  $12  to  $30,000. 

Then  radio's  most  active  announcer-m.c,  Dan  Seymour, 
plays  a  recording  of  a  "phantom  voice."  This  is  usually 
some  well  known  living  American  who  sings  a  little  jingle 
that  contains  pertinent  information  about  his  or  her  career. 

The  show  carres  a  staff  of  six  top  flight  parody  writers, 
all  well  known  song  writers.  They  concentrate  on  writing 
parodies  about  famous  movie  and  radio  stars,  sports  figures, 
and  comic  strio  characters,  follow  the  issues  of  Photoplay 
and  Radio  Mirror  as  guides  to  what  personalities  the  public 
is  most  interested  in  at  the  moment.  Phone  listeners  have 
the  most  trouble  guessing  parodies  about  historical  per- 
sonages, geographical  landmarks. 

A  battery  of  telephone  operators  work  directly  off  stage 
and  don't  put  calls  through  until  the  show  starts  its  broad- 
cast at  10  P.M.,  EST  on  Saturdays.  The  show  originates 
from  CBS's  largest  radio  theater  and  despite  the  1,400 
seating  capacity,  there's  usually  standing  room.  Tickets  are 
at  a  premium  but  out  of  towners  visiting  the  Big  Town 
get  preference. 

Though  Sing  It  Again  has  won  respectable  ratings  it  is 
still  sponsorless.  The  pending  FCC  decision  regarding  give- 
away shows  has  made  interested  advertisers  wary.  But 
CBS  is  still  determined  to  stick  with  the  show,  remember- 
ing that  it  took  more  than  a  year  to  get  Arthur  Godfrey's 
Talent  Scouts  a  bankroller. 

Emcee  Seymour  considers  Sing  It  Again  his  biggest  radio 
opportunity.  The  34-year-old  spieler  got  the  emcee  job 
on  We,  The  People  mainly  on  the  showing  he  made  with 
Sing  It  Again.  He  and  his  pretty  little  wife,  Louise,  dine 
at  Gallagher's  Steak  House  every  Saturday  before  the 
broadcast,  make  sidebets  between  them  on  which  parodies 
will  stump  the  phone  contestants.  The  three  Seymour 
children  monitor  the  show  in  their  spacious  White  Plains 
home,  usually  leave  their  combined  comments  and 
criticism  on  the  night  table  for  their  talented  father  to 
peruse  before  he  hits  the  sack. 

*         *         * 

YOU  SHOULD  KNOW  THAT— 

Strike  It  Rich  lost  its  cough  drop  sponsor  and  is  now 
heard  on  CBS  Tuesdays,  9:30  P.M.,  EST.  .  .  .  The  FCC  will 
soon  have  a  new  chairman  and  this  may  delay  any  decision 
on  their  part  regarding  the  legality  of  such  shows.  .  .  . 
When  Stop  the  Music  goes  on  television  shortly  it  will  have 
an  entirely  different  format  from  the  radio  version.  .  .  . 
Don't  be  surprised  if  one  of  the  air's  oldest  quizzes,  Take  It 
Or  Leave  It,  returns  to  CBS,  its  first  home.  .  .  .  The  show 
was  recently  sent  to  our  soldiers  in  Germany.  .  .  .  Stop  the 
Music's  theme  song  is  now  available  in  sheet  music  form  in 
your  favorite  music  store.  Kay  Armen  may  record  it  soon. 
.  .  .  There  was  a  near  riot  in  the  studio  audience  of  a  certain 
Mutual  network  quizzer  when  the  audience  wasn't  exactly 
satisfied  with  the  method  of  choosing  contestants.  Such  red 
faces  in  the  control  room.  .  .  .  The  booing  could  be  heard  on 
the  air. 


R 
W 

72 


That 


unseen  woman  wi 


ithin 


you 


1i. 


11 


III  51  1^1^ 


YOi 


if  you 
will  only  let  her 


Many  women  feel  in  their  hearts  that 
they  have  missed /u/Z  self-reaHzation. 

Many  live  always  with  a  numbing  sense 
that  they  are  of  little  importance. 

Yet  they  need  not  accept  this — help  is 
iviihin  themselves.  You  can  feel  it  within 
you — an  inner  drive  for  happiness.  The 
close  interrelation  between  this  Inner  You 
and  the  Outer  You,  the  almost  uncanny 
power  of  each  to  change  the  other — can 
change  you  from  drabness  to  joyous  self- 
fulfillment. 

Never  think  of  yourself  as  cut  to  a  set 
pattern.  You  are  not — you  are  changing 
every  day.  You  can  direct  this  change.  Let 
the  strong,  beautiful  Inner  You  help  you 
to  lift  your  life  up. 

This  inner  force  in  all  women  is  tied  in- 
extricably with  need  for  physical  attrac- 
tiveness. This  is  the  real  reason  that  noth- 
ing so  shakes  your  confidence,  your  whole 
outlook,  as  the  uneasiness  that  comes  from 
not  looking  as  you  should — not  appearing 
at  your  best. 

It  is  also  the  reason  that  nothing  so 
bolsters  your  faith  in  yourself  as  the  warm, 
sweet  knowledge  that  you  look  lovely — and 
that  this  outer  loveliness  is  actually  draw- 
ing others  closer  to  the  true  You  within. 

Right  now — today — start  an  inspiring 
new  way  of  living,  that  will  send  a  new  and 
lovelier  You  flooding  out  through  your  face 
and  lift  you  right  out  of  the  class  that  no- 
body notices. 

Base  this  new  living  on  the  great  laws  of 
health  and  beauty:  Exercise  each  day — so 
circulation  keeps  renewing  you!  Relax — 
let  go  a  few  minutes  at  least  twice  each 
day.  You'll  be  amazed  how  this  soothes 
and  lifts  your  spirit.  Enough  sleep.  A  bal- 


II 


Q^m.^^'^n^^i^^^  ^ 


flawless  skin  shows  the  exquisite  care  she  gives  it, 
"The  best  creams  I  know  are  Pond's,"  she  says,  "they're  perfect  for  my  skin." 


anced  diet.  Enough  water.  Cleanliness. 

And  then — your  face — that  constantly 
changing  outer  expression  of  You  that  al- 
ways seems  more  fascinating  than  any- 
thing else  about  you.  A  new  understand- 
ing of  its  care  will  bring  the  real  Inner  You 
singing  through  it  for  all  your  world  to  see 
and  love. 

New" Outside-Inside'''  Face  Treatment 

Never  underestimate  the  little  miracles 
that  can  be  wrought  by  simple  daily  habits. 


That  luminous  look — for  instance — which 
true  cleanliness  gives  to  skin.  The  fineness 
and  softness  of  texture  that  can  come  to 
you  through  faithful,  meticulous  groom- 
ing. Yes — the  gratitude  of  skin  for  the 
care  you  give  it  is  a  lovely  thing  to  see. 
You'll  find  it  takes  no  time  at  all  to  give 
your  face  this  Pond's  new  "Outside- 
Inside"  Face  Treatment  that  acts  on  both 
sides  of  your  skin.  From  the  Outside — the 
Pond's  Cold  Cream  is  softening,  smooth- 
ing and  cleansing  your  skin,  as  you  mas- 


Mrs.  Vanderbilt's  charming,  mobile  face  sends  a 
fascinating  challenge  from  her  vivid  Inner  Self 
.  .  .  gives  to  all  who  see  her  a  lovely,  stirring 
picture  of  the  truly  magnetic  person  she  is 


sage.  From  the  Inside — every  step  of  this 
new  treatment  is  stimulating  the  blood  in 
your  cheeks  to  beauty -giving  activity. 

You  really  should  not  wait  another  day 
to  give  your  skin  this  rewarding  new 
beauty  care.  Do  it  always  at  bedtime  (for 
day  face-cleansings,  too) — this  is  the  way: 

Hot  Stimulation — splash  your  face  with 
hot  water. 

Cream  Cleanse — swirl  Pond's  Cold  Cream 
— lots  of  it — all  over  your  face.  This  will 
soften  and  sweep  dirt  and  make-up  from 
pore  openings.  Tissue  off  well. 

Cream  Rinse — swirl  on  a  second  Pond's 
creaming.  This  rinses  off  last  traces  of  dirt, 
leaves  skin  lubricated,  immaculate.  Tissue 
off  again. 

Cold  Stimulation — give  your  face  a  tonic 
cold  water  splash. 

Now — see  your  face!  Rosy!  Sparkling 
clean!  So  soft!  This  new  "Outside-Inside" 
Face  Treatment  with  Pond's  Cold  Cream 
is  beauty  care  you'll  never  want  to  miss— 
because  it  works!  As  lovely  Mrs.  Vander- 
bilt  says,  "This  treatment  leaves  my  face 
feeling  refreshed  and  immaculate.  Pond's 
is  a  beautiful  cream!" 


Is  yours  Dry  Skin? 

Dry  skin  requires  a  special  cream — one 
that  will  give  your  skin  more  oil.  From  25 
on,  many  women  find  their  natural  skin 
oil  starts  decreasing.  Lots  of  you  will  lose 
as  much  as  20%  of  this  natural  oil  before 
you  are  40.  If  you  have  any  tendency  to 
dry  skin,  give  your  face  the  extra  softening 
help  of  lanolin-rich  homogenized  Pond's 
Dry  Skin  Cream.  Very  rich,  yet  never 
sticky — you'll  love  the  way  dry  skin  really 
seems  to  drink  it  up. 

For  a  greaseless  Potvder  Base! 

If  yours  is  skin  that  does  not  like  a  heavy 
foundation,  it  will  like  the  different/eafAer- 
light  foundation  Pond's  Vanishing  Cream 
gives.  Completely  greaseless — it  leaves  no 
"coated"  look.  You  have  no  shade  prob- 
lem. It  leaves  only  a  smooth,  protective 
film  that's  transparent  on  your  skin.  Pow- 
der goes  on  smoothly,  looks  more  natural 
— and  lasts ! 

Discover,  too,  the  quick  "beauty-lift"  a 
1-Minute  Mask  of  Pond's  Vanishing  Cream 
can  give  you.  Just  cover  your  face  (except 
your  eyes)  with  a  cool,  snowy  mask  of 


the  cream.  After  1  full  minute,  tissue 
off.  See  your  skin  look  clearer,  brighter, 
silkier — immediately ! 

Have  the  "Angel  Face  look'^ 

You  look  sweet  and  smart  and  completely 
natural  when  you  wear  Pond's  Angel  Face 
— the  newest  kind  of  new  make-up  that  is 
actually  foundation  and  powder — all  in 
one.  Not  a  cake  make-up,  no  wet  sponge; 
not  a  greasy  foundation,  no  smeary  finger- 
tips— Angel  Face  goes  on  with  its  own 
downy  puff— and  stays !  And  it  can't  spill 
in  your  handbag  or  "snow"  over  dark 
dresses.  You  are  just  bound  to  love  Angel 
Face — and  you  can  choose  from  five  heav- 
enly shades. 

Then — for  your  lips — you'll  find  subtle 
flattery  in  Pond's  satiny-pink  "Lips"  shade 
— "Dither."  A  perfect  shade  for  Spring — 
it  is  completely  adorable  on  blondes — and 
downright  bewitching  on  brunettes. 

Don't  just  take  your  face  for  granted. 
Every  face  needs  loving  care  and  under- 
standing. What  are  you  doing  for  your  face? 
It  is  the  You  that  others  see  first.  Do  help 
it  to  show  you  at  your  very  best. 


(^^jyHu(^au(i  /ie^n&?7we^ c^y^ 


j^ee  7^^  M  /m^  '^^{h^  ^^^e/ 


Seven  favorites  among  the  Beauty  Aids  Pond's  makes  for  You — used  and  trusted  by  lovely  women  the  world  over 


73 


Don't  be 
Half-safe! 


by 

VALDA  SHERMAN 


At  the  first  blush  of  womanhood  many  mys- 
terious changes  take  place  in  your  body.  For 
instance,  the  apocrine  glands  under  your 
arms  begin  to  secrete  daily  a  type  of  perspi- 
ration you  have  never  known  before.  This  is 
closely  related  to  physical  development  and 
causes  an  unpleasant  odor  on  both  your  per- 
son and  your  clothes. 

There  is  nothing  "wrong"  with  you.  It's  just 
another  sign  you  are  now  a  woman,  not  a 
girl ...  so  now  you  mast  keep  yourself  safe 
with  a  truly  effective  underarm  deodorant. 

Two  clangers— Underarm  odor  is  a  real  handi- 
cap at  this  romantic  age,  and  the  new  cream 
deodorant  Arrid  is  made  especially  to  over- 
come this  very  difficulty.  It  kills  this  odor 
on  contact  in  2  seconds,  then  by  antiseptic 
action  prevents  the  formation  of  all  odor  for 
48  hours  and  keeps  you  shower-bath  fresh. 
It  also  stops  perspiration  and  so  protects 
against  a  second  danger— perspiration  stains. 
Since  physical  exertion,  embarrassment  and 
emotion  can  now  cause  apocrine  glands 
to  fairly  gush  perspiration,  a  dance,  a  date, 
an  embarrassing  remark  may  easily  make 
you  perspire  and  offend,  or  ruin  a  dress. 

All  deodorants  are  not  alike— so  remember 
—no  other  deodorant  tested  stops  perspira- 
tion and  odor  so  completely  yet  so  safely  as 
new  Arrid.  Its  safety  has  been  proved  by 
doctors.  That's  why  girls  your  age  buy  more 
Arrid  than  any  other  age  group.  More  men 
and  women  use  Arrid  than  any  other  deo- 
dorant. Antiseptic,  used  by  117,000  nurses. 

Intimate  protection  is  needed— so  protect  your- 
self with  this  snowy,  stainless  cream.  Award- 
ed American  Laundering  Institute  Approval 
Seal— harmless  to  fabrics.  Safe  for  skin— can 
be  used  right  after  shaving.  Arrid,  with  the 
amazing  new  ingredient  Creamogen,  will  not 
dry  out. 

Your  satisfaction  guaranteed,  or  your  money 
back!  If  you  are  not  completely  convinced 
that  Arrid  is  in  every  way  the  finest  cream 
deodorant  you've  ever  used,  return  the  jar 
with  unused  portion  to  Carter  Products, 
Inc.,  S3  Park  PI.,  N.Y.C.,  for  refund  of  full 
purchase  price. 

Don't  be  half-safe.  Be  Arrid-safe!  Use  Arrid 
to  be  sure.  Get  Arrid  now  at  your  favorite 
drug  counter— only  39^  plus  tax. 


74 


•  •  •  * 

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Come  and  Visit  Nancy  Craig 

(.Continued  from  page  33) 


sent,  as  were  the  country  air  and  the 
safe  places  to  play,  inside  and  out.  Now 
city-born  and  bred  Nancy  says,  "I  will 
never  live  in  a  city  again  if  I  can  help 
it." 

She  was  born  in  St.  Louis  and  was 
christened  Alice  Maslin.  Her  father's 
parents  had  brought  that  good  Irish 
name  straight  from  County  Cork.  Her 
mother's  family,  combines  German  and 
English  strains,  accounting  for  the 
practical  approach  that  she  brings  to 
the  many  problems  of  organizing  her 
complicated  program. 

When  Alice  was  quite  small,  she 
was  educated  to  be  a  concert  pianist, 
and  it  was  as  a  musician  that  she  first 
made  her  mark  in  radio.  She  also 
studied  Home  Economics  in  Colorado 
College,  however,  and  she  admits  that 
she  rather  fancied  herself  as  a  cook. 
This  led  to  a  dismaying  experience 
when  she  was  first  married. 

SHE  had  met  George  Junkin,  then 
;  manager  of  Station  KMOX  in  St. 
Louis,  when  she  applied  for  an  engage- 
ment there  as  a  pianist.  She  got  the  job 
and  the  manager,  too,  but  neither  on  the 
strength  of  her  cooking.  Not  until  after 
their  wedding  did  she  let  him  know 
what  a  paragon  in  the  kitchen  he  had 
won. 

"What  is  your  favorite  dish — just 
name  it,"  she  said,  gaily  confident. 

Mr.  Junkin,  a  Philadelphian,  named 
dishes  he  had  not  been  able  to  find  since 
he  left  the  city  of  brotherly  love.  Would 
it  be  scrapple?  Scrod?  He  settled  on 
tripe.    Could  she  really  make  it? 

"I  had  learned  to  cook  practically 
everything  else,  but  for  some  reason  I 
never  had  cooked  tripe,"  says  Nancy. 
"But  I  had  no  hint  of  impending  disas- 
ter. I  ordered  it,  and  asked  the  butcher 
what  next.  He  said,  'Just  saute  it  three 
minutes  on  one  side,  turn  it  over  and 
give  it  three  minutes  on  the  other.' 
What  he  had  neglected  to  tell  me  was 
that  it  is  a  good  idea  to  boil  it  for 
about  five  hours  first." 

She  served  the  tripe  with  a  flourish, 
floating  in  a  tempting  sauce  to  cries  of 
joy  from  her  enchanted  husband. 

"Any  bride  will  know  how  I  felt,"  she 
says.  "It  was  so  much  leather.  It  was 
som^e  years  before  I  heard  the  end  of 
that." 

The  days  at  Station  KMOX  were 
packed  with  activity,  and  it  was  here 
that  Nancy  got  the  wide  experience 
that  laid  the  groundwork  for  the  pro- 
gram she  was  to  make  famous  later  on 
a  national  network.  She  became  pro- 
gram director  doing  everything  from 
auditioning  talent  to  writing  continu- 
ity, acting  in  skits,  directing  an  orches- 
tra, singing  in  a  trio,  and  broadcasting 
special  women's  programs. 

An  extremely  advantageous  offer  to 
Mr.  Junkin  from  an  agency  in  Phila- 
delphia brought  them  east.  That  led  to 
an  offer  to  him  from  a  recording  com- 
pany in  New  York. 

""There  the  idea  for  my  show  came  of 
itself,"  says  Nancy.  "I  found  the  town 
so  fascinating  that  I  sold  NBC  the  idea 
of  bringing  it  alive  to  listeners  by  cov- 
ering many  aspects  of  it  that  everyone 
does  not  have  a  chance  to  see — ^fashion 
shows,  first  nights,  unusual  restaurants, 
interviews  with  celebrities." 

Her  delight  in  her  big-time  program 
was  somewhat  dimmed  by  a  suggestion 
from  the  network.  Since  it  was  a  com- 
bination of  their  time  and  facilities  and 
her  personality  that  was  making  "Alice 


Maslin"  famous,  they  wanted  her  to  as- 
sign the  rights  in  that  name  to  them  so 
that  their  promotion  and  advertising  of 
that  name  would  not  be  lost  if  she  de- 
cided to  retire. 

"It's  my  name,"  she  protested.  "It 
would  make  me  feel  lost  to  give  it 
away.  I  don't  want  to." 

The  network  was  amiable  about  it. 
"All  right.  Then  you  pick  any  other 
name  you  want  for  the  air,"  they  said. 

Mrs.  Junkin  was  equally  amiable. 
"You  pick  it." 

After  some  searching  of  minds, 
someone  came  up  with  Nancy  Booth 
Craig  because  the  initials  were  NBC. 
And  that  was  how  Nancy  Craig  was 
born. 

She  didn't  like  her  new  name  at  first. 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  couldn't  stand 
it,"  she  says.  "To  me  Nancy  was  some- 
one very  tiny  and  dependent  and  femi- 
nine. I  never  did  become  accustomed 
to  it  until  the  name  became  my  own 
property.   Now  I  love  it." 

She  had  made  the  name  famous  by 
the  time  that  part  of  NBC  known  as  the 
Blue  Network  becamie  American 
Broadcasting  Company,  and  she  went 
with  the  new  company.  When  contract 
time  came  around,  all  legal  rights  to  the 
name  were  transferred  to  her  and  she 
now  owns  it  just  as  completely  as  she 
does  her  own. 

Young  Billy  put  it  pretty  well.  "I 
have  two  mommies,"  he  said  proudly. 
"Mommy  and  Nancy  Craig,  too." 

If  you  were  spending  an  average  day 
with  Nancy,  you  would  need  to  get  a 
good  night's  sleep  beforehand  to  pre- 
pare  you   for   its   strenuous   demands. 

Her  day  starts  early.  The  bus  from 
the  nursery  school  picks  up  young  Bill 
at  8  A.M.  The  family  has  had  breakfast 
by  that  time.  Nancy's  mother,  who  has 
lived  with  her  for  the  three  years  since 
Mr.  Maslin's  death,  gives  little  Alice  her 
bath  while  Nancy  settles  down  to  two 
hours  work  at  her  typewriter.  She  is  in 
her  office  by  eleven. 

The  office  is  more  like  a  series  of 
small  comfortable  living  rooms  than  a 
place  of  cold  business.  There  are  pic- 
tures of  the  family  on  the  walls.  There 
are  green  plants  and  many  books  on 
low  shelves  that  ring  the  walls.  There 
she  checks  the  heavy  morning  mail,  and 
goes  over  the  day's  script. 

IT  one  o'clock  she  goes  to  the  sound- 
a  proofed  studio  to  meet  her  guest 
and  to  chat  for  a  few  minutes  before 
going  on  the  air.  About  twice  a  week 
the  pressTxre  of  detail  is  so  heavy  that 
she  will  have  lunch  at  her  desk.  Other 
days  will  find  her  at  one  of  the  glitter- 
ing fashion  luncheons  for  the  press  or 
in  one  of  New  York's  glossier  restau- 
rants for  a  talk  with  sponsors,  future 
guests  or  some  one  who  can  contribute 
material  for  future  programs.  During 
the  afternoon,  she  catches  up  with 
movie  previews,  exhibits  and  inter- 
views. She  is  seldom  home  before  six, 
but  she  never  fails  to  be  back  in  the 
country  by  six-thirty  for  dinner  with 
the  children. 

On  the  nights  when  a  new  show  or  a 
concert  is  not  demanding  attention, 
Nancy  has  a  chance  at  her  hobbies.  In 
the  library  are  four  hvmdred  cook- 
books, in  the  living  room  her  beloved 
piano  is  waiting.  If  she  is  tired,  the  i 
enormous  couch  that  is  both  treasure 
and  problem  is  waiting  in  front  of  the  I 
fire. 

The  couch  was  bought  for  their  first 


home  in  New  York,  a  tiny  house  in 
Greenwich  Village.  They  decided  to 
furnish  it  in  the  Victorian  manner. 
Gradually,  the  house  began  to  take 
perfect  shape  except  for  one  thing.  Mr. 
Junkin  is  well  over  six  feet  tall,  and 
all  agreed  that  he  should  have  a  really 
big  and  roomy  couch.  They  looked  at 
dozens,  but  nothing  was  quite  right. 
One  evening  a  decorator  friend  called 
up  excitedly.  "I  have  found  just  the 
couch  for  George  .  .  .  hurry!" 

They  rushed  over  to  the  rooms  where 
an  auction  was  in  progress,  and,  sure 
enough,  there  was  the  couch  of 
George's  dreams — vast,  down-filled,  and 
plump  as  a  feather-bed.  It  must  have 
been  built  for  a  hotel. 

George's  eye  lit  with  a  happy  gleam. 
"That's  it,"  he  said.  "We've  got  to  have 
it!" 

There  was  not  so  much  money  in 
those  days  as  there  is  now  in  the  house- 
hold. The  decorator  gave  him  an  ap- 
prehensive look. 

"Let  me  do  the  bidding,"  she  said. 
"You  look  entirely  too  eager,  George." 
George  could  not  contain  himself.  He 
plunged  into  the  bidding,  himself,  fran- 
tically raisins  his  own  decorator's  bid 
at  one  point  in  the  evening.  But 
he  won,  and  triumphantly  arranged  for 
delivery  that  very  night. 

IT  was  pouring  rain  by  the  time  the 
truck  pulled  up  at  their  house,  and  not 
until  then  did  they  discover  that  their 
enchanting  new  possession  would  not 
go  in  their  front  door!  The  proud  own- 
ers rented  a  tarpaulin  and  tenderly 
covered  it  for  the  night.  The  next  day 
they  had  to  saw  the  couch  in  sections  to 
get  it  inside  and  the  process  has  been 
repeated  every  time  they  have  moved 
since,  but  the  couch  still  is  their  treas- 
ure of  treasures,  and  they  would  no 
more  think  of  moving  without  it  than 
without  Margaret,  who  is  their  maid, 
familiar  to  all  regular  listeners  to  Nan- 
cy's program.  She  has  been  with  them 
since  before  they  moved  to  the  country. 
Not  only  has  she  a  fine  hand  in  the 
kitchen,  she  loves  the  children  and  they 
adore  her. 

Of  all  of  the  honors  that  have  come 
her  way,  Nancy  is  proudest  of  The  Fos- 
ter Mother  Award  which  was  given  to 
her  in  1947.  This  award  goes  each  year 
to  the  woman  who  has  done  an  out- 
standing service  for  needy  children, 
and  it  was  given  to  Nancy  for  originat- 
ing the  Package  Parents  Plan.  She 
knew  of  a  number  of  families  who 
could  not  afford  the  $15  a  month  re- 
quired to  become  a  foster  parent  to  one 
of  the  war  orphans  of  Europe,  but  who 
wanted  to  help  none  the  less.  Nancy 
arranged  for  these  people  to  send  a 
package  a  month,  rather  than  money.  It 
has  been  estimated  that  200,000  people 
became  Package  Parents  and  are  still 
sending  packages  of  food  and  clothing 
to  children  overseas. 

"It  is  a  good  olan  for  everyone  con- 
cerned," says  Nancy.  "It  is  good  for 
the  children  overseas  to  get  personal 
things  and  to  feel  that  some  family  here 
is  taking  a  continuing  interest.  And  it 
is  good  for  our  children  to  pass  along 
toys  that  are  still  good  and  so  learn  to 
share  with  others." 

Her  own  children  send  some  of  their 
things,  but  their  greatest  source  of  joy 
cannot  go  through  the  mail.  This  is  the 
menagerie  that  has  included  at  various 
times  ducks,  goats,  dogs,  cats,  chickens, 
squirrels  and  turtles.  The  urban  Nancy 
welcomes  them  all.  How  could  she  do 
otherwise?  The  weird  and  wonderful 
house  she  lives  in  came  equipped  with 
a  special  cat  and  dog  entrance! 


0 


1  --""-"-- 

" 

l— 

^^^^H^^^^^H 

-  "    _ 

"__ 

■■ 

■1 

r;\  ;::: ,„::::: — : — 

All  work 
and  No  Fels-Naptha... 


"I'm  not  the  complaining  kind,  goodness  knows  .  .  . 
but  it  does  seem  as  though  some  one  in  this  house  would  think 
about  me  once  in  awhile. 

"Nobody  works  any  harder  than  I  do  .  .  .  week  after 
week  .  .  .  washing  the  family's  clothes  .  .  .  with  never  so 
much  as  a  'thank  you  or  a  pat  on  the  wringer. 

"I'm  not  choosy,  either  .  .  .  whatever  they  hand 
me  .  .  .  fine  linens;  the  ladies'  lingerie;  Junior's 
grubby  play  suits;  the  Boss's  work  clothes  .  .  . 
I  get  the  dirt  out — somehow. 

"Seems  to  me  it's  about  time  I  had 
some  capable  help  on  this  job.  After 
all,  I  don't  ask  for  too  much  .  .  . 
just  some  Fels-Naptha  Soap." 


Go/c/en  6aror  Go/c/en  c^^s 
Fels-Naptha 


'esjame-ia/e 


75 


...because  HOLD- BOBS 
reolly  hold.  The  perfec- 
tion of  ffiis  beauty  is 
ossured  because  tfiose 
perfect  curls  ore  formed 
ond  held  in  place  gently, 
yet  so  very  securely,  by 
this  truly  superior  bobby 
pin.  There  is  nothing  finer. 

More  women  use 

HOLD-BOBS 

than  ati  other 

bobby  pins  combinett 


«»  HOLD-BOB*  is  a  GAYLA*  hair  beauty  aid 

AlMf     •AYLORD     PRODUCT* ,     IHCOBPOIIATID,   CMICASO.   lUt. 

76 


That's  My  Boy ! 

(Continued  from  page  29) 


the  first  grade.  These  were  two  mo- 
mentous events. 

At  the  end  of  his  first  year  of  school- 
ing, Jack's  teacher  paid  us  a  call. 
"Something  has  to  be  done  about  your 
son,"  she  said,  "he's  turned  into  quite 
a  nuisance.  He  does  all  his  own  lessons 
and  everybody  else's  and  then  he  looks 
around  for  more  to  do.  The  only  thing 
to  do,  I  think,  is  to  have  him  skip  a 
grade." 

Mrs.  Carson  and  I  were  delighted.  We 
thought  that  our  youngest  was  going  to 
turn  into  a  great  scholar.  When  we  told 
him  about  what  was  happening,  Jack 
said,  "Good.  Now  I  can  be  in  the  same 
class  with  Bob."  The  next  year  he 
didn't  work  so  hard. 

Bob  Carson,  it  naturally  follows,  is 
Jack's  older  brother  by  something  more 
than  a  year. 

JACK  always  wanted  to  be  like  Bob, 
and  he  worked  at  it  so  much  during 
twelfth  grade  that  he  was  selected  to 
make  a  speech  at  the  presentation  to 
the  school  of  a  new  flagpole.  He 
dropped  the  news  casually  a  few  days 
in  advance.  I  knew  Mrs.  Carson  was 
worried  when  I  heard  her  ask  him 
a  couple  of  times,  "How's  the  speech 
going?" 

He'd  say,  "All  right."  Then  I'd  nudge 
him  a  little  by  suggesting,  "Jack,  if 
you  want  to  tonight.  Mother  and  I  will 
go  upstairs  while  you  practice  your 
speech." 

He  was  quite  reassuring.  "You  don't 
have  to  do  that." 

Mrs.  Carson  and  I  went  to  the  cere- 
mony in  fear  and  trembling  because  he 
hadn't  to  our  knowledge  rehearsed  the 
speech  once,  and  if  there  was  a  loose 
shutter  murmuring  in  the  house  we  al- 
ways knew  about  it. 

The  flag  was  raised.  Jack  got  up  and 
made  a  speech.  It  was  such  a  good 
speech  neither  of  us  could  remember 
what  he  said.  The  neighbors  congratu- 
lated us  and  really  meant  it.  That 
night  after  supper  I  casually  brought 
the  subject  up. 

"Jack,  about  that  speech  of  yours  to- 
day. Out  of  curiosity,  just  when  did 
you    practice    it?" 

"I  didn't,"  he  said,  gulping  down  his 
strawberry  shortcake.  "I  just  went  over 
it  in  my  mind." 

Well,  what  do  you  know! 

All  in  all,  we  had  about  as  smooth- 
running  a  family  as  you  could  find  any- 
where. That  is  until  Mrs.  Carson 
became  involved  in  a  nearly  fatal  acci- 
dent. One  New  Year's  Eve  I  went  home 
early  while  she  stayed  to  help  some  of 
the  ladies  clean  up  in  the  kitchen.  Then 
she  came  home  in  a  cab  which  skidded 
on  the  streets,  turned  over  and  smashed 
all  over  a  lamp  post. 

We  never  expected  Mrs.  Carson  to 
walk   again. 

She  did,  mainly  by  virtue  of  her  great 
spirit,  but  that  accident  changed  our 
lives  a  good  deal.  We  thought  that 
it  would  be  best  to  send  the  boys  away 
to  school  so  that  they  would  be  re- 
moved from  the  unnatural  atmosphere 
of  a  home  with  an  invalid  mother.  So 
they  started  what  amounts  to  Senior 
High  School  at  St.  John's  Military 
Academy  at  Delafield,  Wisconsin. 

They  did  all  right,  including  the 
times  they  got  themselves  in  trouble. 

Jack,  one  time,  committed  an  infrac- 
tion I  never  found  out  about.  But  it 
was  important  enough  to  reach  the  at- 
tention of  the  School  Captain.     There 


was  no  official  punishment  involved, 
but  Jack  was  asked  to  put  on  the  gloves 
with  one  of  the  school's  best  l>oxers. 
Jack  knocked  him  out.  This  was  not 
the  way  the  dressing  down  should  have 
turned  out.  They  put  up  a  better  boy. 
Jack  knocked  him  out.  Finally,  the 
School  Captain  had  to  put  on  the  gloves 
himself  and  finish  Jack. 

When  Mrs.  Carson  was  back  on  her 
feet  we  moved  to  a  cottage  on  Lake 
Pewaukee,  which  is  twenty-five  miles 
outside  Milwaukee  and  six  miles  from 
the  school.  Weekends  we  ran  a  board- 
ing house  with  seldom  fewer  than  a 
dozen  boys  around. 

Jack,  who  was  crazy  about  music, 
finally  bedeviled  me  into  buying  him  a 
saxophone  for  his  birthday.  That  was 
hard  on  Mrs.  Carson's  ears  and  mine, 
but  it  didn't  last  long.  Jack  came  to 
me  a  couple  of  months  later  and  said, 
"Dad,  about  this  sax.  It's  a  tenor  and 
what  I  should  have  had  is  an  alto,  but 
what  I'd  rather  have  is  an  auto." 

I  considered  the  discord  we'd  been 
through  and  Jack  found  a  boy  who 
needed  a  sax.  His  father  had  an  old 
Buick  he  didn't  need.  The  trade  was 
made  and  now  we  had  a  Buick  in  the 
family.  Jack  and  Bob  painted  it  four 
different  wild  colors,  took  a  huge 
searchlight  off  a  boat  we  had,  and  with 
the  aid  of  this  extra  precaution  against 
the  dangers  of  night  driving  they  man- 
aged to  smash  it  up  against  the  side  of 
a  freight  train. 

There  was  more  damage  to  the  freight 
train  than  the  boys,  and  it  taught  them 
a  good  lesson  in  the  value  of  insurance, 
not  to  mention  good  driving. 

However,  the  boys  were  never  much 
to  worry  about.  Each  summer  they  took 
off  for  YMCA  camp  where  they  won 
their  Life  Guard  and  Red  Cross  certifi- 
cates. By  the  time  they  were  ready 
for  Carleton  College  at  Northfield, 
Minnesota,  they  were  a  couple  of  good 
men. 

Carleton  is  one  of  the  finest  colleges 
in  the  country,  with  extremely  high 
scholastic  standards.  The  boys  did 
pretty  well  there,  played  football  and 
Jack  displayed  considerable  swim- 
ming prowess.  That  they  didn't  grad- 
uate is  more  my  doing  than  theirs.  I'd 
held  them  an  extra  year  at  St.  John's. 
After  a  couple  of  years  of  college,  I 
had  a  talk  with  the  Dean  and  he  agreed 
that  they  were  ready  for  business 
careers. 

THEY  were  ready,  but  I  didn't  know 
that  the  acting  bug  had  really  bitten 
Jack.  He  got  together  with  a  young 
fellow  named  Dave  Willock  and  they 
formed  a  vaudeville  team.  It  was  over 
this  that  Jack  and  his  mother  had  their 
first  real  clash,  with  me  as  the  referee. 

We  were  riding  along  in  the  car 
when  Jack  said,  calmly,  "Mother,  I'm 
going  on  the  stage." 

She  took  a  deep  breath.  "No  you're 
not,  Jack.    Dad,  tell  him  he's  not." 

I  couldn't.  All  I  said  was,  "Let  him 
get  it  out  of  his  system." 

Dave  and  Jack  broke  in  their  act  at 
Madison,  Wisconsin.  Mrs.  Carson 
wouldn't  go — not  because  she  was 
angry.  She  was  afraid  to  see  him  get 
hurt.  But  she  did  stand  in  the  lobby 
until  it  was  over. 

When  I  came  out  I  said,  "They're  not 
bad." 

After  several  weeks  they  arrived  at 
the  Riverside  in  Milwaukee.  This  time 
Mrs.  Carson  went  along.    I  made  a  mis- 


take  on  purpose  so  we  arrived  while 
fthey  were  on  stage  with  Jack  in  the 
Imiddle  of  his  Mussolini  imitation. 
She  loved  it. 

Jack  had  it  rough  when  he  hit  Holly- 
Iwood,  but  by  accident  he  wound  up  at 
[Ben  Bard's  school.  He  didn't  get  any 
I  work  for  seven  months,  then  he  picked 
I  up  a  bit  part,  followed  by  a  week's 
[work  in  a  Ginger  Rogers  picture,  which 
jrought  him  $500. 

The  studio  wanted  to   sign  him  for 
^100    a    week,    but    his    agent,    Frank 
fStempel  turned  it  down. 

Jack  called  me.     "Dad,"  he  said,   "I 

lon't  know  but  what  it's  foolish  to  turn 

lown  $100  a  week." 

I  pointed  out  that  Stempel  was  turn- 

ig  down  $10,  and  he  must  know  what 

le  was  doing.     The  price  went  up  to 

^150.      Jack   came   to   me    again.      We 

/ere  living  in   an  apartment  together 

labile   I   recovered   from   a   sick   spell. 

FNow,"  I  reasoned,  "Stempel  is  turning 

iown   $15.     Let's   see   what   happens." 

The  price  went  to  $200  and  then  $250. 

J^ack  was  fit  lo  be  tied.     "I  think  I  feel 

/ell  enough  to  go  home,"  I  said,  and 

lid. 

Jack  signed  for  $250. 

|Y  this  time  Jack  had  gotten  around 
quite  a  bit;  by  this  time  his  friend 
ind  agent,  Frank  Stempel,  was  turning 
iown  parts  that  ran  into  the  thousands, 
^hen  Jack  was  almost  a  nervous 
/reck,  he  got  a  job  in  "Strawberry 
Jlonde"  at  Warners,  with  Jimmy  Cag- 
ley.  Next  thing  he  knew  he  was  under 
Eontract  at  Warners  at  $1,000 — plus  the 
anheard-of  thing  at  the  time — the  right 
|o  do  his  own  radio  show. 

Today    the   firm    of    Carson-Stempel 

a  real  going  concern.  It  owns  a  fine 
ranch  with  twenty-two  head  of  cattle, 

lot  of  turkeys  and  chickens.  It  is 
ieveloping  new  talent  in  radio  and 
[television  shows.  Jack  has  his  beauti- 
ful two-story  semi-ranch  home  in  the 
Ian  Fernando  Valley.  Bob  is  living  in 
''an  Nuys  and  stirring  up  quite  a  bit  of 
iterest  over  at  the  Century  Theater, 
up  and  coming  group  of  Hollywood 
players.  I  expect  to  see  both  of  them 
joing  big  in  television  one  of  these 
lays. 

But  in  the  meantime,  it's  only  a  few 
liles'  round  trip  from  where  Mrs. 
Larson  and  I  have  our  home  in  North 
loUywood  to  the  establishments  of  our 
two  boys.  Jack  has  had  a  little  domes- 
tic trouble,  but  that's  nobody's  business 
"jut  his.  Mrs.  Carson  and  I  are  crazy 
about  his  two  little  tikes,  John  and 
'  Kitten,  or  Katy,  her  real  name. 

My  only  trouble  is  that  about  twice 
a  week  I  make  the  mistake  of  going 
out  on  the  golf  course  with  Jack.  I've 
never  been  a  good  golfer.  Bob  is  the 
family  champ  and  has  been  ever  since 
he  began  to  caddy  when  the  golf  bag 
was  bigger  than  he  was. 

My  problem  is  that  I  keep  taking 
Jack  on.  I  have  a  handicap  that  ranges 
between  12  and  17.  Jack  is  consistently 
8  and  10,  but  he's  either  hot  or  cold — 
on  the  course  or  in  the  soup.  I  go  on 
and  on  trying  to  lick  him  at  the  game. 
What  upsets  me  is  that  I  never  will— 
and  now  he's  kept  me  so  active  that  I 
just  can't  keep  away  from  golf  or  busi- 
ness. 

Sure  as  I'm  the  father  of  Jack  Car- 
•  son,  the  guy  is  going  to  come  to  me  in 
about  five  years  and  say,  "Remember 
when  I  made  you  go  out  that  day  and 
play  golf  with  me  in  the  rain?  Shucks, 
I  only  did  that  because  I  was  afraid  you 
thought  you  were  getting  to  be  an  old 
man — come  on,  where's  your  clubs? 
Let's  get  going!" 


Copyright  1949,  The  Intnnatioml  Silmr  Co.,  Holims  S  Edwards  Div.,  Mwidm,  Conn.  Sold  in  Canada  by:  Tin  T.  Eaton  Co.,  ltd.  oRag.  U.  S.  Pat.  Off. 


77 


You'll  look  like  a  MODEL  in,.. 


78 


LOOK  YOUR  LOVELIBST... 


So  new  and  different  .  .  .  this  dramatic  si3e-sweep 
cliecic  'n  solid  set  off  with  ten  rows  of  sparkling 
white  ric-rac.  Wide  swing  skirt  ties  in  back  for 
perfect  fit.  Fine  cotton  tubs  so  easily.  Colorfast, 
of  course.  Colors:  Green  solid  with  Green  check. 
Black  solid  with  Black  check. 


order  NO.  2601 


SIZES:  9,  n,  13,  15,    17. 


Write  for  FREE  Style  Catalog 
FULL  SATISFACTION  OR  MONEY  BACK 
EASY  TO  ORDER  -  SEND  NO  MONEY 


fCoa>LoLa  -frvilauHtA , Uic. 


J    FLORIDA  FASHIONS,  INC.,  Sanford     278      Florido  (B)^ 

I  Please  send "Prize  Winner"  dresses 
(No.  2601)  at  $2.98  each  plus  postage  and 
I  C.O.D.  charges.  If  not  fully  satisfied,  I  may 
•  return  purchase  within  10  days  for  refund.  (You 
I  save  C.O.D.  fee  by  enclosing  purchase  price, 
-  plus  20c  postage.  Same  refund  privilege.) 
I  Circle  Color:        Green  Black 

I  Circle  Size:         9         11  13  J5         17' 

I    Name 

I   Address 

iJIity 


.  Zone State.. 


Let's  Have  the  Nelsons" 

(Continued  from  page  25) 


With  the  dramatic  example  of  Ozzie's 
and  Harriet's  happy  marriage  before 
our  eyes,  we  were  determined  to  prove 
again  that  two  careers  in  a  family  are 
an  asset,  not  a  liability,  if  you  work 
together  toward  common  goals. 

(Funny,  though.  It  was  Harriet  who 
warned  me  against  sharing  everything 
with  my  husband.  "If  you  work  to- 
gether and  play  together  all  the  time, 
you'll  have  to  be  bored  sooner  or  later. 
Let  Don  and  Ozzie  have  their  golf.  You 
come  ice-skating  with  me.") 

We  faced  only  one  serious  problem  at 
the  start.  The  only  vacant  apartment 
we  had  been  able  to  find  was  one  of 
those  brutally  functional,  white-tile- 
and-chrome  things,  about  as  homey  as 
a  hotel  room  and  about  as  big.  We  tried 
to  make  it  livable,  but  it  was  no  use. 
The  place  just  wasn't  made  to  be  a 
home. 

Again  it  was  Harriet  who  came  to  our 
rescue.  She  scouted  around  all  over 
town  and  found  a  spacious  apartment 
in  a  big,  old  apartment  house.  Old 
fashioned — and  as  comfortable — as  an 
old  shoe,  it  had  room  for  all  of  our 
prized  wedding  presents,  our  books  and 
our  records — and  with  a  great  deal 
more  scope  for  my  first  lessons  in  run- 
ning a  home  of  my  own. 

Of  course  it  had  to  be  Harriet  and 
Ozzie,  when  we  got  around  to  inviting 
the  guests  to  our  first  dinner  party. 

And  nobody  will  be  at  all  surprised 
that  it  was  one  more  piece  of  Harriet's 
sterling  advice  which  made  it  possible 
for  me  to  have  fun  at  my  own  first 
party. 

When  I  called  to  invite  them — dinner 
at  seven,  Tuesday  night — there  was  a 
long  pause  before  she  said,  "We'd  love 
it." 

The  explanation  came  with  her  next 
words. 

"I'm  remembering  the  first  dinner 
I  ever  cooked  for  guests,"  she  said,  "and 
it  gives  me  goose  pimples. 

"I  tried  to  be  fancy.  Cooked  a  duck, 
with  all  the  sauces  and  fixings.  When 
the  company  arrived,  I  was  still  in  the 
kitchen  in  my  Mother  Hubbard,  red 
and  perspiring,  and  I  spent  most  of  the 
evening  there,  fussing  over  the  dinner 
while  Ozzie  and  the  guests  lolled  lazily 
about — or  so  I  thought  then — in  the 
living  room. 

"I  had  to  dig  deep  for  my  sense  of 
humor  that  night — or  that  first  family 


''Real  romante  tomes  into  my  kitchen, 


rr 


.  .  .  "when  I  tune  in  MY  TRUE  STORY 
Radio  Program,"  writes  a  listener  to 
radio's  greatest  morning  show. 

The  word  "real"  is  typical  of  what 
thousands  of  fascinated  listeners  say 
of  these  true-life  stories  adapted  from 
the  pages  of  True  Story  magazine.  A 
complete  story  every  day,  Monday 
through  Friday.  "There  is  no  other 
radio  program  like  it." 

Tune  in 

My  True  Story 

AMERICAN       BROADCASTING      STATtOMS 


dinner    party    would    have    been    the 
occasion  for  our  first  family  quarrel." 

Well,  I  got  goose  bumps  at  that,  and 
asked  her — as  I  had  asked  her  every 
time  a  problem  had  come  up  since  our 
wedding  day — "What  should  I  do?" 

"Make  something  you've  made  a 
hundred  times  before.  A  recipe  you 
know  by  heart.  I  don't  care  if  it's 
boiled  beef  and  parsnips.  Cook  some- 
thing easy. 

"Have  one  hot  dish  and  a  salad. 
Otherwise  you'll  be  jumping  up  and 
running  in  and  out  of  the  kitchen  all 
through  dinner. 

"And  for  heaven's  sake,  plan  a  menu 
most  of  which  can  be  prepared  well  in 
advance.  That  last-minute  dash  can 
be  torture." 

Don  and  I  talked  over  the  menu  that 
night. 

I  don't  suppose  I  had  cooked  anything 
more  than  once  or  twice  unless  it  was 
wafRes — we  have  those  every  Sunday 
morning  for  breakfast,  from  one  of 
those  ready-mix  packages.  But  waffles 
wouldn't  do  for  dinner.  ! 

"Make    spaghetti    and    meat    balls,"    ? 
Don  suggested.  Mother  and  I  had  cooked    t 
that  the  first  night  Don  came  to  our 
house  for  dinner,  and  he  had  loved  it.    ; 
It  was  easy,  certainly.    The  sauce  and 
meat  balls  could  be  prepared  way  ahead    , 
of  time,  and  it  was  the  "one  hot  dish" 
Harriet  had  recommended. 

But  we  couldn't  resist  fancying  things 
up  a  little.  It  wouldn't  be  any  fun 
playing  hostess  unless  we  could  get  at 
least  one  "however  do  you  make  this?" 
from  replete  and  admiring  guests. 

Janet  Waldo  had  served  a  wonderful 
hot  crabmeat  canape  when  we  went  to 
her  first  company  dinner,  and  I  haci 
come  home  with  the  recipe.  And  Don 
had  been  practicing  up  on  a  tremendous 
Caesar  salad.  He'd  mix  that  at  the 
table,  he  said.  That  would  impress 
them.    All  those  eleven  ingredients! 

We'd  have  a  bottle  of  wine,  and  some 
crunchy  French  bread  with  unsalted 
butter,  and  fruit  and  cheese  for  dessert. 

"And  I  know,"  I  said,  coming  up  with 
the  fanciest  idea  of  all.  "We'll  see  if  we 
can  borrow  Romeo's  steamer  and  make 
Espresso." 

Espresso  is  a  thick,  strong  Italian  cof- 
fee that  we  always  order  when  we  go  to 
Romeo's  Chianti,  our  favorite  restau- 
rant. 

We  were  feeling  gay  already.     Why, 


having  guests  for  dinner  was  a  lark, 
not  torture! 

And  fortunately,  we  turned  out  not 
to  have  been  fooling  ourselves.  It  went 
off  very  well. 

I  went  shopping  early  Tuesday  morn- 
ing, got  a  bundle  of  the  long  fine  semo- 
lina spaghetti  at  the  Italian  grocery 
store  Harriet  had  told  me  about.  Got 
the  olive  oil  for  the  salad  there,  too — 
the  real  thing — and  a  long  loaf  of  sour 
dough  bread. 

Don  shopped  for  the  other  salad 
things  himself.  This  was  to  be  his  pro- 
duction. I  got  the  cheeses  and  some 
dramatically  beautiful  fruit  at  the 
Farmers'  Market,  and  stopped  by  on  the 
way  home  to  borrow  the  Espresso 
machine. 

I  got  home  still  full  of  pep,  after  our 
Life  of  Riley  rehearsal,  and  set  the 
table.  My  gay  red  and  white  table 
cloth  arid  napkins  were  just  right,  I 
decided,  and  the  fruit  in  a  big  bowl 
made  a  wonderful  centerpiece.  Some 
big  fat  candles — have  to  have  candles 
with  spaghetti — the  silver,  my  pretty 
new  white  dishes. 

THE  apron  went  on  at  noon,  and  came 
off  before  two — and  it  stayed  off.  Un- 
less you  count  the  frilly  little  thing  I 
popped  on  over  my  hostess  dress  for  the 
very  last-minute  jobs. 

I  made  the  meat  balls  first,  and  then 
the  sauce  (I'll  give  you  all  the  recipes 
later),  toasted  the  bread  squares  for  the 
canapes  and  made  the  crabmeat  mix- 
ture. I  dosed  the  French  bread  liberal- 
ly with  garlic  butter  and  wrapped  it  up 
again.  It  was  all  ready  to  pop  into  the 
oven. 

Don  was  at  class  during  the  early 
afternoon  (he's  a  musician,  plays  the 
tenor  sax  on  the  Groucho  Marx  show, 
but  he  wants  to  be  a  writer  and  is  tak- 
ing an  advanced  English  course  at 
U.S.C.  imder  the  GI  bill) .  He  came  in 
at  four — I  was  luxuriating  in  a  hot  bath 
by  then — and  I  heard  him  splashing 
about  in  the  kitchen  washing  the  greens 
for  the  salad. 

They  have  to  be  washed  and  thor- 
oughly dried  well  in  advance,  then 
chilled  in  the  refrigerator. 

He  was  in  a  state  when  I  finally  came 
out,  all  clean  and  perfumed,  to  see  how 
he  was  coming.  He  had  made  up  his 
tray  of  ingredients  for  the  dressing,  and 
there  were  only  nine.  He  counted 
again:  croutons,  the  oil,  garlic,  lemon 
juice,  wine  vinegar,  salt,  fresh  ground 
pepper,  two  coddled  eggs,  a  hunk  of 
Italian  cheese  to  be  grated  later.  With 
the  romaine,  that  would  make  ten. 
What,  oh  what,  was  Number  Eleven? 

I  racked  my  brains.  Don  had  made 
this  a  couple  of  +imes  before,  but  I  had 
stayed  strictly  at  a  distance.  I  looked 
in  the  cupboard. 

"Worcestershire!"  I  cried,  trium- 
phantly. 

That  was  it.  So  the  stage  was  set  for 
the  Salade  Grande. 

"What  are  we  going  to  do  until  seven 
o'clock?"  Don  wondered  nervously.  I 
couldn't  have  been  more  pleased.  Here 
we  were  with  time  on  our  hands,  and 
everything  ready  for  our  first  party! 

Salted  water  was  boiling  for  the  spa- 
ghetti when  Ozzie  and  Harriet  arrived. 
I  popped  the  canapes  under  the  broiler 
when  the  doorbell  rang  and  joined  Don 
at  the  door  to  greet  our  guests  before 
they'd  had  time  to  say  hello. 

I  was  not  red,  I  was  not  perspiring 
and  I  was  not  in  a  Mother  Hubbard.  I 
could  see  Harriet  was  impressed — and 
a  little  smug.  After  all,  who  had  told 
me  how  to  do  it? 

Don  opened  the  wine,  and  I  disap- 


5^/5  JANE  GREER: 

My  skin  looks  so  1^rfect_S^firiy  Smootk 

^\ajA  New  IA/ooc(bur/1?\A/(i6r!' 


JANE  GREER 

starring  in  RKO's 
"THE  BIG  STEAL" 


VJhof  Excitin/  new  Qaal\fy 

made  women  prefer 

lA/oodbury  to  oil  other  le^diri^ 


/ 


/ 


You'll  know— the  first  time  you  wear 
New  Woodbury  Powder— why 
thousands  of  women  in  a  recent  test 
chose  Woodbury  over  all  other 
leading  brands.*  New  Woodbury 
Powder  gives  the  smoothest. 
Satiny  finish  your  skin 
has  ever  known! 

No  other  powder  gives  this  flav%less 
finish . . .  covers  tiny  blemishes 
so  naturally!  And— more  magic 
—  no  powder  can  match 
in  enchantment  the  delicious 
New  Woodbury  fragrance! 

*ln  a  recent  Nation-wide  test, 
Woodbury   won   by  the   tremendous 
average  of  4  to  1  over  all  other 
leading  brands  of  powder! 


7  Glow-of-Color  Shades— Medium  and  "Purse"  sizes  30(^ 
and  15^.  Large  "Dressing  Table"  size  $1.00,  prices  plus  tax. 


/ 


ft 


in  fier  mfncl ! 


■ 


Ask  her— and  she'll  probably 
freely  admit  that  her  attitude  to- 
wards "those  days"  underwent  a 
decided  improvement  the  first 
month  she  used  Tampax  for  sani- 
tary protection. 

AS  AN  AID  TO  RELAXATION  at  such 
times  Tampax  has  a  great  deal  to  offer.  It 
is  worn  internally,  discarding  belts,  pins 
and  external  pads.  Therefore  no  awareness 
of  restraining  bulk.  No  self-consciousness 
about  outlines  that  might  show  under 
dresses.  No  fear  that  odor  would  form. 

HOW  TAMPAX   WAS    INVENTED   is   a 

simple  story.  A  doctor  applied  the  medical 
principle  of  internal  absorption  to  this 
special  need  of  women.  Tampax  is  made  of 
pure,  highly  absorbent  cotton  compressed 
into  easy-to-use  applicators.  When  in  place 
it  is  unseen  and  unfelt. 

SOME  PRACTICAL  MATTERS:  Tampax 
comes  in  3  absorbencies  (Regular,  Super, 
Junior)  to  suit  varying  needs.  Not  neces- 
sary to  remove  for  tub  or  shower.  Chang- 
ing quick  and  disposal  no  trouble.  An 
average  month's  supply  slips  into  your 
purse.  Or  an  economy  box  will  provide  4 
months'  average  supply.  Sold  at  drug  stores 
and  notion  counters  everywhere.  Tampax 
Incorporated,  Palmer,  Mass. 


peared  into  the  kitchen  to  bring  out  the 
canapes.  The  spaghetti  went  into  the 
boiling  water  at  the  same  time  and  I  set 
our  clock  to  ring  in  fifteen  minutes. 

The  meat  balls  were  simmering  away 
in  the  savory  sauce.  The  bread  went 
into  the  oven.  When  the  alarm  went 
off.  I  told  Don  to  show  Ozzie  and  Har- 
riet their  places.  I  came  in  a  moment 
later  with  steaming  spaghetti  and  meat 
balls. 

Don  poured  more  wine  and  passed  the 
hot  bread. 

Nobody  said  anything  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, which  I  thought  was  highly 
complimentary. 

Don's  salad  show — and  it  is  a  show! — 
made  my  replacing  spaghetti  plates 
with  salad  plates  very  inconspicuous. 

When  the  salad  was  served,  Don  at- 
tached the  Espresso  machine  and  our 
guests  were  really  flabbergasted.  We 
made  like  we  had  things  like  this  for 
dinner  every  night — oh  boy! 

"Next  time,"  said  Harriet,  "you  give 
me  advice." 

What  a  fun  evening! 

And  here  are  the  recipes — if  you 
want  to  have  fun  too. 


CRAB  CANAPE 


1  cup  crabmeat 
mayonnaise 


3-inch  rounds  of 
bread 
cucumber 
Dash  of  seasoning 
(Worcestershire  or  other) 


Accepted  for  Adrerlising 
by  the  Journal  of  the  American  Medical  Association 


80 


Pick  over  and  shred  crabmeat.  Mix 
with  enough  mayonnaise  to  hold  it  to- 
gether. Add  the  seasoning.  Toast 
bread  rounds.  Peel  and  chop  cucum- 
ber. Season  lightly  with  salt  and  pep- 
per. On  each  toast  round  spread  thin 
layer  of  cucumber.  Cover  with  a 
mound  of  crabmeat.  Smooth  it  over. 
Place  under  broiler  to  brown  lightly. 

MEAT  BALLS 

1  Vz  lbs.  ground  round  steak 

1       onion  minced 

1       garlic  clove  minced 

pinch  each:  marjoram,  thyme  and 

parsley  (these  same  herbs  go  in  the 

sauce) 
1       egg 

salt  and  pepper 

Beat  the  egg  lightly  and  add  season- 
ings. Add  to  meat  and  blend  very  light- 
ly. Form  into  loose  balls.  (The  egg 
will  hold  them  together.) 

Brown  on  all  sides  in  four  table- 
spoons good  olive  oil  and  remove  to  a 
covered  pan.  Make  the  sauce  with  the 
same  oil,  now  seasoned  with  the  meat. 


SALCE 

The  oil  in  your  frying  pan 
1     clove  garlic 
1     onion 

1  carrot 

Vz  green  pepper 

2  cups  tomato  sauce  (2  small  cans — 
you  can  add  water  if  the  sauce  gets 
too  thick) 

salt 
pepper 
1     tsp.  each  marjoram,  thyme,  parsley 
(you  can  use  more  if  the  herbs  are 
fresh  from  your  own  garden) 
A  few   dried   mushrooms,   chopped, 
add  a  real  Italian  touch. 

Mince  the  garlic,  onion,  carrot  and 
pepper  into  the  hot  oil.  Cook,  stirring 
gently,  for  10  minutes.  Add  the  tomato 
sauce  and  the  seasonings  and  herbs. 
Cook  slowly  for  about  twenty  minutes, 
stirring  often.  Put  aside  for  last  min- 
ute reheating. 

GARLIC  BREAD 

1/2  cup  butter 
%  cup  chopped  parsley 
1     tbsp.  minced  garlic 
1     loaf  French  bread 

Cream  half  of  butter  with  parsley 
and  remaining  butter  with  garlic.  (Just 
occurs  to  me  that  if  you  don't  like  gar- 
lic, you're  going  to  hate  this  dinner.) 

Cut  bread  in  half  crosswise  and 
lengthwise  (four  parts).  Spread  cut 
side  of  two  parts  with  parsley  butter 
mixture  and  cut  side  of  the  other  two 
parts  with  garlic  butter  mixture.  Cut 
slices  down  to,  but  not  through,  the 
crust.    Place  in  a  hot  oven  to  brown. 

I  have  no  special  recipe  for  the  spa- 
ghetti— only  a  warning  not  to  overcook 
it.  Ten  minutes  boiling  is  often  enough 
for  the  commercial  varieties — it  is  a 
lot  better  when  it  is  a  little  bony.  I 
pop  a  piece  of  butter  into  the  hot  pot 
after  the  spaghetti  has  been  removed  to 
the  colander  to  drain.  I  run  just  a  lit- 
tle water  over  the  spaghetti  to  take  off 
excess  starch,  then  turn  it  around 
quickly  in  the  melted  butter.  The 
sauce,  in  which  the  meat  balls  have 
been  cooked  for  approximately  half  an 
hour,  should  be  mixed  with  spaghetti 
before  serving. 

I  can't  give  you  the  exact  proportions 
for  Don's  salad.  That's  his  secret.  But 
I  advise  you  to  experiment,  as  he  did. 
Then  the  final  triumph  is  all  your  own. 

As  for  the  Espresso — the  recipe  for 
that  is:  "You  gotta  know  Romeo." 


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I 


"The  Crisis  We 
Learned  to  Live  With" 

{Continued  from  page   61) 

"Acting  isn't  everything,  Lawson. 
You  were  quite  willing  to  give  it  up  to 
go  into  the  army.  Now,  just  because 
the  reason  is  different — " 

"To  give  up  the  important  for  the 
more  important  is  a  natural  thing.  But 
to  give  it  up  for — for  emptiness  .   .  ." 

I  stared  back  at  him,  realizing  for 
the  first  time  the  full  impact  of  Law- 
son's  news.  An  actor  lives  to  act.  If 
there  is  a  war,  he  goes  to  it — laying  the 
acting  aside — but  fully  believing  that 
when  the  war  is  won  he  will  act  again. 
It's  trite,  but  perfectly  true  to  say  that 
it's  something  in  his  blood. 

"Well,"  Lawson  said  after  a  pause. 
"Don't  worry.  There's  bound  to  be  an 
answer  somewhere  and  I'll  find  it.  Say 
— it's  almost  one-thirty.  You'd  better 
get  to  your  rehearsal." 

"What  about  your  program  tonight?" 

OH,  I  can  make  that  all  right,"  he 
assured  me.  "Why  don't  you  meet 
me  at  the  studio  after  the  show  and 
we'll  have  dinner  between  the  broadcast 
and  repeat?" 

"Fine." 

We  parted  at  the  restaurant  door  and 
I  walked  down  Sixth  Avenue  slowly, 
thinking  and  remembering.  Although  I 
had  known  Lawson  for  only  eight 
months,  I  was  well  aware  that  nothing 
that  happened  in  his  life  could  leave 
mine  untouched.  What  he  felt  for  me 
I  didn't  know  and  probably  never 
would,  now. 

I  thought  back  several  years  to  the 
days  when  Lawson  Zerbe  had  been 
only  a  name  to  me.  I  was  sixteen 
then  and  just  beginning  my  radio 
career  in  Washington,  D.  C.  Prac- 
tically everyone  I  met  around  the 
Washington  studios  had  worked  with 
Lawson  at  one  time  or  another — in 
Dayton,  Ohio,  his  home  town,  at  Sta- 
tion WLW  in  Cincinnati,  or  in  New 
York  where  he  was  working  at  the 
time.  These  people  were  proud  of 
Lawson's  success  and  made  constant 
references  to  the  numerous  programs 
on  which  he  worked  regularly.  I  be- 
came curious  as  to  how  one  man  could 
possibly  handle  so  many  parts  and 
finally  decided  to  question  an  announcer 
who  seemed  to  know  him  quite  well. 

"Lawson  is  the  man  of  a  thousand 
voices,"  he  told  me.  "He  can  play  any 
kind  of  character  a  script  writer  can 
dream  up.  And  double!  He  can  play 
two  characters  on  the  same  program — 
switch  flawlessly  from  one  to  the  other 
without  batting  an  eye.  Why,  once 
at  WLW—" 

And  so  it  went,  until  Lawson  Zerbe 
became  a  sort  of  myth  to  me.  In  my 
spare  time  I  began  to  listen  to  some 
of  the  programs  on  which  he  was 
featured  and  soon  found  myself  study- 
ing his  technique  and  wondering  what 
Lawson  Zerbe,  the  person,  was  like. 

Two  years  later  when  I  left  for  New 
York  a  number  of  Lawson's  Washing- 
ton friends  told  me  to  be  sure  to  look 
him  up,  but  I  was  too  busy  lining  up 
auditions  and  tracking  down  casting 
rumors  to  bother.  Finally,  after  several 
discouraging  months  of  pavement 
pounding,  I  found  myself  in  radio,  with 
a  job  on  the  commercial  of  Pepper 
Young's  Family. 

A  tall,   blondish  young  man  played 

the  role  of  "Pepper  Young"  and  I  could 

.  tell  immediately  by  the  way  he  worked 

that  he  was  both  talented  and  experi- 


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enced.  When  the  program  vi^as  over,  I 
went  into  the  control  room  to  speak 
to  Mr.  Vincent,  the  director.  The  tele- 
phone interrupted  us  and  after  answer- 
ing it  Mr.  Vincent  spoke  into  the  talk- 
back:   "Pepper — telephone  for  you!" 

"Pepper"  came  into  the  control  room 
and  picked  up  the  phone.  He  listened 
silently  for  a  moment,  then  said,  "Oh, 
that's  all  right,  honey.  Business  before 
pleasure  .  .  .  We'll  make  it  some  other 
time  .  .  .  S'long." 

Chick  Vincent  grinned.  "Stood  up, 
Pepper?" 

"That's  right.  A  last  minute  call  for 
a  show — occupational  risk  of  dating  an 
actress." 

"Pepper,  have  you  met  Doris  Mc- 
Whirt?"  Mr.  Vincent  asked,  grinning 
again.    "Doris,  this  is  Lawson  Zerbe." 

So,  at  last,  I'd  met  the  flesh  and  blood 
Lawson.  The  wonder  was  that  I  hadn't 
recognized  his  voice  in  the  studio,  but 
I  suppose  I  was  thinking  more  about 
making  the  commercial  sound  good 
than  I  was  about  the  actors  on  the  show. 

"Hello,  Doris,"  Lawson  said  easily.  "I 
don't  suppose  you're  free  for  dinner 
tonight?  .  .  .  Before  you  answer,  let  me 
state  my  other  qualifications — I  have 
two  tickets  for  a  show." 

"Go  ahead,"  Chick  Vincent  said.  "I'll 
vouch  for  Lawson.  He's  not  half  as 
fresh  as  he  sounds." 

"Oh,  I  know  all  about  him,"  I  blurted 
out.  "I've  heard  his  whole  life  story 
from  a  dozen  mutual  friends  in  Wash- 
ington." 

"Good,"  said  Lawson.  "That  gives  us 
the  whole  evening  to  talk  about  you. 
How  about  a  nice  thick  steak?" 

I  learned  more  about  New  York  radio 
during  the  next  few  hours  than  I'd 
been  able  to  find  out  for  myself  during 
months  of  pavement  pounding  and  re- 
ception room  inquiries.  Lawson  knew 
which  shows  were  handled  by  which 
agencies;  which  directors  would  give  a 
newcomer  a  chance;  he  not  only  knew 
where  each  director  could  be  found  but 
when  he  was  likely  to  be  in  his  office; 
he  knew  about  new  programs  still  in 
the  audition  stage;  about  transcribed 
shows,  cast  and  waxed  in  New  York  for 
out  of  town  broadcast.  To  a  neophyte, 
this  kind  of  information  was  priceless. 

We  had  reached  our  third  cup  of 
coffee  when  I  became  aware  suddenly 
that  the  restaurant  seemed  quiet  and, 
looking  around,  I  discovered  that  most 
of  the  tables  were  empty.  My  watch 
pointed  accusing  hands  at  ten  o'clock 
and  I  realized  that  we'd  talked  right 
through  the  first  act  of  the  play! 

During    the    months    that    followed, 


Lawson  and  I  saw  each  other  fre- 
quently. He  seemed  to  take  a  genuine 
interest  in  my  career  and  thanks  to  his 
advice  and  guidance,  I  was  making  ex- 
cellent progress.  There  was  no  tinge 
of  romance  in  our  relationship  then — 
we  were  just  good  friends  with  a  com- 
mon ambition,  but  we  did  enjoy  being 
together.  Lawson  never  relaxed.  He 
rushed  from  program  to  program;  re- 
hearsal to  rehearsal;  broadcast  to  re- 
peat broadcast  as  though  demons  were 
chasing  him.  And  after  a  time,  I  found 
myself  worrying  about  this  for  al- 
though Lawson  seemed  to  take  this 
breathless  schedule  in  his  stride,  to 
me  the  pace  seemed  to  be  all  out  of 
proportion  to  human  endurance.  Per- 
haps, even  then,  I  had  a  premoni- 
tion of  tragedy  .  .  . 

I  reached  the  studio  for  my  rehearsal 
a  little  early  but  the  director  was  al- 
ready there  and  I  took  the  script  he 
handed  me  gratefully.  It  was  a  relief 
to  escape  from  my  own  thoughts  and 
submerge  myself  completely  in  the 
character  I  was  to  portray. 

That  night,  I  arrived  at  Lawson's 
studio  just  after  his  program  had  gone 
off  the  air  and  Lawson  met  me  in  the 
lounge. 

"Let's  get  out  of  here,"  he  said  by 
way  of  greeting.  "I've  something  to 
tell  you." 

The  elevator  was  crowded  and  I  had 
to  wait  until  we  were  in  the  street 
before  I  could  voice  my  eager  ques- 
tions. "What  is  it?"  I  demanded  as  soon 
as  the  street  door  had  closed  beind  us. 
"What's  happened?" 

"I've  found  the  answer  to  the  whole 
thing  right  here,"  Lawson  answered, 
taking  a  bulky  script  from  his  pocket 
and  tapping  his  knuckles  against  it. 

"In  a  script?"  I  asked  incredulously. 
"I  don't  understand." 

"This  character  named  'Sandy'  that 
I  played  on  that  Special  Service  Pro- 
gram tonight  had  the  same  problem  I 
have,"  Lawson  explained.  "He  wanted 
to  get  into  the  army  but  they  wouldn't 
take  him.  because  of  a  heart  condition. 
But  Sandy  wasn't  the  kind  to  take  the 
verdict  lying  down.  He  decided  to  join 
the  American  Field  Service,  a  volunteer 
ambulance  service  and — " 

"Lawson,  what  -  are  you  getting  at? 
If  the  doctor  says  you're  in  no  condition 
to  continue  with  your  work,  surely  you 
don't  think  you  could  get  into  an  am- 
bulance service?" 

"Why  not?  All  I'd  have  to  do  would 
be  waive  all  responsibility  of  health." 

"Sandy  was  a  character  in  a  script," 
I    argued.     "His    story    ended    where 


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ours  would  begin — isn't  that  right?" 
"Doris,  if  I  can  get  into  the  American 
Field  Service,  I'm  going.  I  don't  think 
that  sort  of  work  would  be  half  as  hard 
on  my  heart  as  radio.  The  doctor  said 
this  condition  was  brought  on  by  men- 
tal strain  and  constant  pressure.  Well, 
driving  relaxes  me.  This  is  the  answer 
and  I  know  it.  Now — how  about  that 
dinner  I  promised  you?" 

I  didn't  hear  anything  from  Lawson 
during  the  following  week  and  when  I 
didn't  see  him  around  the  studios,  I 
began  to  wonder  hopefully  if  he  had 
taken  his  doctor's  advice  and  had  gone 
away  for  a  rest.  Facing  the  possibility 
of  a  long  separation  made  me  realize 
that  aside  from  my  work,  Lawson  had 
been  the  focal  point  of  my  existence  for 
many  months.  I  simply  couldn't 
imagine  what  life  would  be  like  without 
him.  During  the  days  that  followed,  I 
fought  back  a  hundred  impulses  to  call 
him  and  then  one  afternoon,  after  I'd 
finished  a  stint  on  a  radio  show  at  NBC, 
I  found  Lawson  waiting  for  me  in  the 
lobby  as  I  got  out  of  the  elevator. 

"I  have  only  a  few  minutes,"  he  said 
casually,  "but  I  wanted  to  say  goodbye. 
I'm  leaving  in  the  morning." 

I  TRIED  to  keep  the  anxiety  out  of  my 
voice.  "You're  going  to  take  that  rest, 
then?" 

"Of  course  not.  I'm  going  overseas. 
The  American  Field  Service  accepted 
me  and  I  asked  for  an  immediate  as- 
signment." 

"Well,  I  suppose  you  know  best." 

We  were  both  ill  at  ease  and  that 
was  strange  because  there  had  never 
been  any  tenseness  between  us.  Finally, 
I  asked,  "Will  I  hear  from  you?" 

Lawson  avoided  my  eyes.  "You'd 
better  not  count  on  that,  Doris.  But 
when  this  is  all  over,  you'll  hear  from 
me  sure  enough.  In  the  meantime,  you 
have  fun." 

"Certainly,"  I  said  smiling.  This  was 
a  situation  that  called  for  some  real 
acting  because  my  heart  was  crying  out, 
protesting  the  strange  emptiness  of  this 
farewell.  I  wanted  to  beg  him  to  write, 
to  tell  him  how  deeply  I'd  learned  to 
care  for  him,  to  entreat  him  to  take  care 
of  himself,  to  tell  him  I'd  wait  if  he 
wanted  me  to  .  .  . 

"Well,  I  still  have  a  lot  of  packing  to 
do  and  a  dozen  loose  ends  to  tie  up  so 
I'd  better  get  going."  He  reached  for 
my  hand  and  pressed  it  tightly  in  both 
his  own.  "So  long,  kid."  He  turned 
abruptly  and  I  watched  his  broad  back 
until  it  disappeared  through  the  door. 

"Goodbye,"  I  whispered.  "God  keep 
you  .  .  ." 

The  swift,  brutal  agony  of  our  part- 
ing was  easier  to  bear  than  the  long 
siege  of  silence  that  followed.  Lawson 
never  wrote  a  word  to  anyone.  I  told 
myself  over  and  over  again  that  Law- 
son  was  lost  to  me  and,  in  self  defense, 
I  tried  to  put  him  out  of  my  mind. 
Sometimes  for  short  periods  I  succeeded 
and,  eventually,  when  the  war  ended 
and  demobilization  began  I  found  that 
I  could  think  about  Lawson  again  with- 
out feeling  the  old  hopelessness.     ■ 

His  return  was  as  abrupt  as  his  de- 
parture. I  returned  to  the  Rehearsal 
Club  late  one  afternoon  after  a  par- 
ticularly gruelling  day  in  the  studios 
to  find  this  message  waiting:  "Lawson 
Zerbe  will  call  at  five  o'clock  to  take 
you  to  dinner."  Just  like  that — as 
casual  as  if  he'd  merely  been  away  for 
a  weekend. 

The  little  Italian  restaurant  we  had 
chosen  was  a  perfect  place  for  talk — 
quiet,  romantic,  secluded — and  as  Law- 
son  and  I  faced  each  other  in  the  dim 
candlelight,  all  the  tenseness  that  had 


Those  three  graces  of  correc|^sliion— 

,. /■         \ 

style,  fit,  ancl"1idrmdhy  — are  yours  \ 

with  Grace  Walkers.  Their  smartness 

and  beauty  will  thrill  you.  You'll  „<,r^ 


marvel  at  their  comfort.  Gfdice  Wqflkers 
are  sensibly^^^ed.  SefeTGrace/ 

Walkers  at  y^ur  fcjvarite  Store',  or 

:  »«     X  /    1  \       i 

Nvrite  us  for  youi^/aedler's  parfie. 

//  \    I 

Pio   995  I 

Some  slylei  shghily  h/^fee, 


or 


grace^ 


^atking 


C 


.,,^ 

V/ 

^ "" 

1 

^ 

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K^ 

Ji 

1 

s  V 

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Gotfiom 

FR/EDMAN-SHflBY    D/V)S/ON    •    INTERNATIONAL   SHOE   COMPANY    •   ST.   LOUI$ 


Bob  Pins 

set  the  smartest 

hair-do's 

stronger  grip  — 
won't  slip  out 


Short  in  front— short  in  back... like  this  new 

"Directoire  Style"  that's  so  flattering  to 
your  face... that's  the  way  your  hair  goes  this 

season.  And  the  smartest  hair-do's  are 
going  up  with  De  Long  Bob  Pins!  Smoothly 
rounded  at  the  ends,  De  Long  Bob  Pins  slide 
in  easily,  stay  in  indefinitely.  For  easier 
setting— for  lovelier  hair— reach  for 
De  Long  Bob  Pins  on  the  famous  blue  cards. 

how  to  set  this 

"direetolre  style" 

created  hy  Robert  King,  famous 

New  York  and  Hollywood  hair 

stylist  and  make-up  artist.  Make  6 

-,,_^  .  .  l^irge  pin  curls  for  the  bang, 

^^\,  "^  y^         W'ave  a  ridge  over  each  ear  and 

^^^  ^^  Ji        make  two  rows  of  curls  from  high 

on  both  sides  all  the  way  around 

back.  Always  turn  curls  toward 

face.  Brush  out  hair  away  from. 

face  and  let  fall  softly. 


You're  alivays  "set"  with  De  Long  Hair  Pins  • 
Curl  Setting  Pins  •  Safety  Pins  •  Hooks  and  Eyes  • 
Snaps  •  Pins  •  Hook  and  Eye  Tapes  •  Sanitary  Helta 


stood  between  us  at  our  parting  fell 
away  and  we  were  frankly  happy.  It 
was  easy  now  to  ask  the  question  that 
was  uppermost  in  my  mind.  "Lawson, 
tell  me  honestly,  how  do  you  feel — your 
heart,   I  mean?" 

"Better  than  when  I  left,"  he  as- 
sured me. 

"Have  you  seen  your  doctor  yet?" 

"No,  but  I  have  an  appointment  for 
tomorrow  at  two.  If  you're  free — why 
don't  you  come  along?" 

"This  young  man  is  a  bad  patient," 
the  doctor  told  me  when  the  nurse 
finally  summoned  me  into  the  consult- 
ing room.  "The  last  time  I  saw  him  I 
ordered  him  to  the  country  for  a  long 
rest  and  now  I  find  that  he's  been  over- 
seas driving  an  ambulance.  That  might 
kill  some  people  but  in  his  case  it's 
seemed  to  prove  that  radio  work  is 
harder  on  the  heart  than  anything  else." 

"Then  he's  better?"  I  asked  eagerly. 

"He's  in  better  health  generally  but 
if  he  goes  back  to  those  ten-hour-a-day 
studio  grinds,  he'll  get  worse." 

"He  has  to  give  up  radio  then?" 

The  doctor  looked  across  the  room 
to  where  Lawson  was  sitting.  "I'm  not 
going  to  say  that,"  he  said.  "If  I  did,  I 
don't  think  he'd  take  my  advice  any- 
way. How  about  a  compromise.  Law- 
son?  You  can  work  on  an  average  of 
five  hours  a  day,  provided  you  take 
one  day  off  each  week  and  sleep  for  ten 
hours   every   night." 

Lawson  drew  a  long  breath.  "It's 
half  a  loaf,  but  I'm  grateful  for  it,"  he 
said  slowly.  "Now  all  I  have  to  do  is 
find  those  radio  jobs." 

Lawson  had  no  trouble  at  all  getting 
back  into  the  radio  swing.  As  soon  as 
directors  learned  that  he  was  available, 
the  calls  started  coming.  We  made  some 
weekly  work  charts  with  Sundays 
eliminated.  He  would  accept  jobs  for 
other  days  up  to  the  five-hour  limit, 
but  a  ten-hour  sleeping  period  was 
charted  for  every  twenty-four  hours. 
This  schedule  eliminated  any  active 
participation  in  sports,  of  course,  and 
that  angle  worried  me. 

Then  fate  took  over  again.  Lawson 
was  chosen  for  the  role  of  Frank  Mer- 
riwell  on  a  new  adventure  series  on 
NBC.  As  everyone  knows,  Frank  Mer- 
riwell  excelled  in  every  type  of  sport 
and  scarcely  a  script  was  without  a 
thrilling  touchdown,  a  last-minute  home 
run  or  some  other  sports  feat.  I  soon 
discovered  that  Lawson  was  getting  a 
vicarious  thrill  out  of  playing  this  part, 
for  he  could  let  his  imagination  take 
wing  and  carry  him  over  the  goal  line 
or  into  home  plate. 

I  used  to  listen  to  this  program  grate- 
fully and  to  the  parts  he  played  for  Hi 
Brown    on    Bulldog    Drummond,    The 


Thin  Man  and  Inner  Sanctum  and  I 
could  feel  the  impact  of  his' expert  pre- 
tending as  I  had  never  felt  it  before — 
for  now  he  actually  lived  these  adven- 
tures in  his  imagination.  They  were  his 
escape  from  the  bonds  of  his  own  physi- 
cal limitations.  He  had  found  a  way 
to  compromise  with  destiny  and  he  was 
safe. 

As  I  helped  Lawson  make  these  ad- 
justments to  his  new  life  our  friend- 
ship deepened  and  I  began  to  think 
once  more  about  the  future.  He  had 
accepted  the  "half  a  loaf"  philosophy 
for  himself  so  it  was  up  to  me  to  show 
him  in  the  hundred  subtle  ways  that 
only  women  know  that  it  was  every- 
thing I  wanted  too.  I  must  have  suc- 
ceeded rather  well,  for  on  one  of  those 
bright  false-Spring  afternoons  that 
sometimes  come  in  late  winter  as  Law- 
son  and  I  were  walking  through  the 
park  he  asked  abruptly,  "Doris  have 
you  ever  thought  of  getting  married?" 

"Why  yes — of  course  I  have,"  I  an- 
swered promptly.  "I've  thought  about 
it  for  a  long  time  and  hoped  you'd  ask 
me."  This  wasn't  any  time  to  be  coy, 
I  decided.  I  wanted  Lawson  to  un- 
derstand how  I  felt  about  him. 

"Well  I've  thought  about  it  a  lot  too. 
I  knew  I  loved  you  even  before  I  went 
away  but  I  couldn't  say  anything  about 
it  then  because  I  really  thought  I  was 
washed  up.  Now  things  look  fine  again, 
but—" 

"Lawson,  for  heavens'  sake,  if  you 
love  me  that's  all  I  want  to  know." 

"I  do  love  you.  More  than  I  ever 
thought  one  person  could  love  another, 
but—" 

"Are  you  asking  me  to  marry  you  or 
not?"  I  interrupted.  "If  you  are,  let's 
do  it  right  away." 

By  the  following  Wednesday  we  had 
our  license  and  set  about  comparing 
work  schedules  because  we  wanted  to 
leave  for  my  home  in  Washington  the 
moment  the  ceremony  was  over. 

Finally  we  figured  out  that  we  could 
both  be  free  from  eleven  o'clock  Sat- 
urday morning  until  the  following 
Wednesday  morning  if  Murray  Burnette 
would  replace  me  on  True  Detective  on 
Sunday  and  if  we  didn't  accept  any 
other  jobs  in  the  meantime.  So  our 
marriage,  like  everything  else  con- 
nected with  radio,  was  neatly  fitted 
into  a  schedule. 

The   story   books   usually    end    with 
"They  lived  happily  ever  after" — and  \ 
that  is  certainly  an  excellent  finale — 
but  for  those  who  have  been  challenged  , 
by  some  artful  quirk  of  destiny,  I  thinkJ 
it's  more  cheering  to  remember  some-j 
thing  Shakespeare  said:  "Our  remedies 
oft  in  ourselves  do  lie,  Which  we  as- 
cribe to  Heaven." 


WOMAN'S  FIRST  RIGHT  .  .  . 

THE  RIGHT  TO  HAPPINESS 


\\ 


II 


Listen  to  Carolyn  Kramer's  courageous  struggle  for 
security  and  peace  of  mind  on  "The  Right  To  Happi- 
ness," one  woman's  search  for  a  richer,  more  meaningful 
life. 

TUNE  IN  every  afternoon  Monday  to  Friday  (3:45 
EST)  on  NBC  stations. 


If  you  have  overcome  obstacles  to  your  own  happiness, 
write  Carolyn  Kramer  about  it  and  you  may  win  $50.  For 
details  see  the  current  issue  of  EXPERIENCES  maga- 
zine.  Now  at  newsstands. 


Traveler  of  the  Month 

(Continued  from  page   23) 

money  and  packages  began  coming 
back  to  Scotland.  That  wasn't  enough, 
though.  And  neither  was  the  dole — 
about  $40  a  month.  Thus,  it  was  up  to 
Elizabeth.  And  while  her  husband 
stayed  home,  trying,  in  his  sightless 
way,  to  keep  track  of  the  younger 
children,  Elizabeth  began  going  out 
every  day  to  scrub  and  clean  and  serve 
in  the  homes  of  others. 

Sometimes,  sitting  alone  in  her 
kitchen  at  night,  Elizabeth  allowed  her- 
self a  luxury — she  took  the  time  to 
dream  of  life  in  America.  In  that  dream 
there  were  picture  shows  and  dinners 
at  fine  restaurants  and  bright  colored 
clothes.  It  was  a  dream,  though,  and 
the  tea  pot  oyer  there,  the  tea  pot 
with  the  few  "shillings  in  it,  was  the 
reality. 

IN  1933,  James  McDonald,  a  good  man, 
a  man  conquered  by  the  madness 
of  a  world  he  didn't  make,  finally  died. 
Mrs.  McDonald's  brood  began  to  move 
away.  Two  daughters  and  a  son  came 
to  America.  They,  at  least,  made  the 
grade,  and  they  did  well.  This  was 
some  relief,  of  course.  Meantime,  back 
home,  there  still  was  the  business  of 
getting  up  early  to  go  out  on  domestic 
work.  A  grandmother,  who  should  have 
been  home  by  her  fire,  going  off  to  do 
the  work   of  a   younger   woman. 

The  cavalcade  went  on.  World  War  II 
this  time.  Bombers  roaring  out  over 
Scotland.  American  soldiers  in  the 
streets — young  laughing  kids  with  inde- 
pendent, friendly  ways.  Elizabeth  look- 
ing at  their  well-fed  bodies,  their  inno- 
cent swagger,  and  wondering  if  her 
own  boys  would  have  been  that  way 
had  she  gone  to  America  years  ago. 
Finally,  though,  the  war  was  over. 
And  Mrs.  McDonald  began  thinking 
more  and  more  about  America.  Her 
daughters  and  son  wrote  urgent  letters. 
They  would  gladly  pay  her  passage 
over.   Then,  as  she  put  it: 

"All  of  a  sudden,  I  just  took  a  no- 
tion. I  wouldn't  take  one  of  those  fright- 
ening boats,  of  course,  but  I  would  fiy. 
Yes,  I'd  fly  to  my  family  in  America." 
After  fifty  years  of  waiting,  the  ar- 
rangements were  astonishingly  simple. 
Almost  before  she  knew  it,  she  was 
tightening  her  safety  belt  in  a  huge 
airship  which  would  take  her  to  Ire- 
land, Boston,  New  York. 

Had  she  found  her  relatives  here 
different  from  the  people  back  home? 
And  if  so,  in  what  way? 

"Oh  yes,  my  people  are  all  Americans. 
I  mean  they  smile  more,  and  don't 
seem  to  have  to  count  their  pennies, 
and  every  day  is  a  holiday.  Yes,  I'll 
say  they're  different  all  right.  Now, 
me,  I  always  had  something  to  keep 
me  back.  Nothing  really  seems  to  keep 
these  people  back." 

One   of  these   days,   Mrs.   McDonald 

will  be  going  back  to  Scotland.  All  of 

her  children  are  away  now,  and  she'll 

be  living  in  that  house  all  by  herself. 

I  wondered  if  she'd  be  lonely. 

I      "Lonely?"  she  asked.  "No,  not  hardly. 

<  For  I'll  still  be  going  out  to  do  my  do- 

'  mestic  work  three  or  four  days  a  week. 

j  And  the  rest  of  the  time,  I'll  be  glad 

'  to  ,iust  be  home  taking  it  easy." 

I      Well,  I  hope  this  wonderful  little  old 

I  lady   really   has   a    chance    to   take   it 

easy.  And  as  she  sits  near  her  fire,  and 

maybe  drops  off  to  sleep,   I  hope  she 

I  dreams  again  of  her  rare  and  wonder- 

I  ful  holiday   in  America.   I  hope   she's 

I  stored  up  enough  memories  to  make  up 

1  for  those  fifty  years  of  waiting. 


xiave  you  ever  wondered  if  you  are  as  lovely  as  you  could  be— are  you  com- 
pletely sure  of  your  charm?  Your  deodorant  can  be  the  difference  .  .  .  and  you 
will  never  know  how  lovely  you  can  be  until  you  use  Fresh. 

Fresh  is  so  completely  effective,  yet  so  easy  and  pleasant  to  use  . . .  Different 
from  any  deodorant  you  have  ever  tried. 


85 


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I  Can't  Even  Get  a  Haircut" 

{Continued   jrom  page   57) 


"private  eye"  for  tailing  a  car.  His 
mother  told  him  stories  of  the  odd  per- 
sonalities she  met  and  he  believes  this 
explains  his  love  of  odd  characters. 

Herb's  father  was  a  tombstone  en- 
graver with  a  strong  inventive  streak. 
Until  his  mother  gave  him  a  harmonica 
one  Christmas,  Herb  imitated  his  father 
and  spent  most  of  his  time  in  the  cellar 
tinkering  with  gadgets.  He  didn't  find 
Indiana  weather  conducive  to  sports. 

"Summers  are  too  short  there,"  Herb 
explains.  "Usually  they  come  on  Tues- 
days." 

But  Mrs.  Shriner  encouraged  Herb's 
interest  in  the  harmonica  and  often 
coaxed  him  into  performing  for  her 
friends.    She  had  a  great  Irish  wit. 

At  the  age  of  seventeen.  Herb  be- 
came a  semi-professional  musician.  It 
started  when  a  group  of  his  friends  or- 
ganized the  Har-Maniacs. 

THEY  discovered  quickly  that  profes- 
sional mouth  organs  cost  about  $25 
apiece.  With  typical  Hoosier  bargain- 
ing, Herb  made  a  deal  with  a  music 
merchant.  In  exchange  for  good  in- 
struments, the  Har-Maniacs  would  give 
a  concert  ir.  his  store  window  every 
Saturday  night.  The  idea  was  good  and 
successful,  too  successful.  Police  com- 
plained that  the  crowds  on  the  street 
created  a  traffic  hazard. 

After  that  engagements  were  easy  to 
get  and  the  Har-Maniacs  were  heard 
on  the  Hoosier  Hop,  a  CBS  network 
show  that  originated  in  Ft.  Wayne  and 
they  played  in  the  surrounding  small 
towns.  A  year  later  Herb  lit  out  for 
Detroit  and.  he  hoped,  the  big  time. 
Instead  he  wound  up  as  a  harmonica 
soloist  in  the  Keith  circuit. 

"We  just  kept  moving  and  playing 
seven  shows  every  day,"  Herb  recalls. 
"And  for  that  I  got  $40  a  week  and  all 
the  road  maps  I  could  eat." 

However,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  the 
heavy  demands  of  vaudeville.  Herb 
might  never  have  become  a  humorist. 
It  happened  just  about  the  same  way 
Jack  Benny  switched  from  the  violin  to 
gags.  In  Herb's  case,  his  lips  were  so 
sore  and  cracked  one  evening  that  he 
felt  blood  would  flow  if  he  blew  an- 
other note.  But  there  he  was  alone  on 
a  stage  with  an  audience  waiting. 

"I'm  sure  an  unlucky  guy,"  Herb 
thought,  only  he  thought  aloud  and 
there  was  the  audience  watching,  wait- 
ing for  him  to  explain.  "Yesterday  I 
bought  my  first  new  suit  in  two  years. 
It  was  a  suit  with  two  pairs  of  pants 
so  this  morning  I  burned  a  hole  in  the 
coat." 

It  was  a  borrowed  joke,  but  it 
worked.  Laughs  rolled  down  from  the 
balcony,  across  the  orchestra  to  the 
stage  and  Herb  felt  gratified.  As  the 
audience  quieted,  he  felt  panicky  again. 
They  were  watching  and  waiting  for 
more.  Out  of  desperation  Herb  be- 
gan to  talk  about  his  family  and 
friends  back  in  Indiana.  He  heard 
chuckles.  He  got  laughs.  A  humorist 
was  bom. 

Herb  had  plenty  of  chance  to  polish 
up  his  routine  in  the  States  and  later 
in  a  six-month  tour  through  Australia. 
While  he  was  in  the  Antipodes,  war 
broke  out.  He  immediately  booked 
passage  on  a  Canadian  ship  and,  for- 
tunately, missed  the  boat.  It  was  sunk. 
A  few  days  later  he  boarded  the  last 
civilian  ship  to  leave  Melbourne. 

He  had  a  quick  visit  with  his  mother 
before  he  began  a  tour  with  the  USO 


and  the  famous  Caravan  shows.  And 
just  before  he  went  in  the  army,  he  got 
his  first  chance  at  the  big  time.  He  was 
invited  to  appear  on  the  Kate  Smith 
radio  program. 

Eager  and  excited,  he  boarded  a  train 
for  New  York.  As  the  cars  rolled  across 
the  country,  he  worked  out  his  routine 
and  worried:  "Would  the  audience  be 
cold?  Would  his  pacing  be  off?  Would 
they   expect   sophisticated   gags?" 

As  it  turned  out  he  was  too  good.  The 
audience  laughed  so  hard  that  Herb 
forgot  about  the  studio  clock  and  the 
frantic  producer.  He  ran  four  minutes 
over  time,  committing  radio's  first, 
worst  and  most  unforgivable  sin. 

He  hadn't  much  time  to  feel  low,  for 
the  army  got  him  and  he  was  sent  to 
the  European  theater  with  a  rifle,  a 
pocketful  of  rations,  a  few  musicians 
and  instructions  to  go  into  the  front 
lines  to  entertain  the  boys.  He  even 
played  for  foreign  troops  and  one  of 
his  most  famous  lines  he  often  told 
through  an  interpreter,  "The  mail  in 
our  military  unit  is  very  good.  Pack- 
ages are  delivered  as  fast  as  they  can 
smash  them." 

Before  Herb  returned  to  the  States, 
he  was  made  tech  sergeant,  was  sub- 
jected to  buzz  bombs  and  made  a  stra- 
tegic retreat  from  the  Battle  of  the 
Bulge  clad  only  in  long  woolen  under- 
wear. 

It  was  overseas  he  received  a  letter 
from  his  mother  who  with  typical 
wit  wrote,  "You'll  be  coming  home 
soon,  Herb.  It  seems  that  the  war  will 
last  forever  so  they'll  have  to  retire 
you  on  an  old  age  pension."  But  short- 
ly thereafter  Herb  was  writing  his 
mother  in  a  more  serious  tone  from  a 
separation  camp  in  Virginia,  "I  guess 
I'll  be  going  into  some  other  kind  of 
work  than  show  business.  Who  remem- 
bers me  after   three  years   overseas?" 

HE  WAS  wrong,  though.  Before  he 
was  discharged.  Perry  Como  invited, 
him  to  appear  on  the  Supper  Club. 
Other  engagements  followed  but  Herb 
decided  to  give  up  the  night  club 
routine  for  a  while.  He  bought  a  land 
cruiser,  a  bus-sized  motor  van  with 
complete  household  facilities.  He 
toured  the  country,  stopping  off  in 
little  towns  and  country  schoolhouses 
to  give  his  show,  meet  the  audience. 

The  feeling  for  American  humor, 
civilian  humor,  had  returned  and  seven 
thousand  miles  later  Herb  was  back  in 
New  York  sharing  comedy  honors  with 
Beatrice  Lillie  and  Jack  Haley  in  "In- 
side USA."  The  drama  critics  praised 
Herb.  One  wrote  that  he  thought  1| 
Shriner  was  a  better  homespun  humor- 
ist than  the  great  Will  Rogers.  A  few 
months  later  Herb  had  his  own  radio 
show,  five  evenings  a  week  over  CBS, 
where  you  hear  him  today. 

"Sure  I'd  like  to  get  married  some 
day,"  Herb  tells  you  now.  "But  how 
would  you  expect  a  wife  to  put  up  with 
the  kind  of  life  I've  got  to  lead?" 

His  day  begins  at  eight-thirty  when 
he  goes  into  a  huddle  over  the  evening 
radio  show.  He  and  the  producers  work 
right  through  till  five  o'clock  when 
the  broadcast  is  over.  Just  about  the 
average  working  hours  for  the  average 
working  person  but  Herb  isn't  finished. 
Not  yet.  At  seven,  he  reports  to  the 
Majestic  Theater  for  his  "Inside  USA" 
appearance.  That  is  six  nights  a  week 
plus  two  matinees. 

"Besides  they  tell  me  newlyweds  like 


to  spend  a  lot  of  time  together,  espe- 
cially the  first  year,"  Herb  says.  "How 
could  I  do  it?" 

So  now  he's  a  Sunday  Romeo.  When 
he  has  a  date  it  begins  at  midnight, 
after  the  Saturday  night  performance, 
and  they  make  the  rounds  of  Hungarian 
cafes  where  Herb  has  made  many 
friends  among  the  gypsies. 

Sunday  morning  he  gets  up  early  and 
drives  out  to  the  yacht  basins  looking 
for  a  boat.  He's  hoping  to  save  enough 
money  to  buy  one  for  the  sumnner. 

"It's  different  from  getting  married," 
Herb  drawls.  "Maybe  a  man  will  look 
over  twenty  girls  before  he  gets  hitched 
up  but  when  he  picks  out  a  boat,  he 
looks  at  a  couple  hundred. 

"Trouble  is  though,  longer  you're 
single,  more  difficult  it  is  to  get  mar- 
ried," Herb  will  tell  you.  "Like  jump- 
ing ofE  a  high  bridge.  Longer  you  look 
down,  harder  it  gets  to  jump  off." 

HERB  doesn't  think  he's  so  demanding 
in  the  virtues  he  expected  to  find  in  a 
wife.  She  should  be  a  good  homemaker 
and  be  able  to  cook  Hungarian  goulash 
and,  of  course,  Swiss  steak.  On  the 
mental  side,  she  should  have  broad  in- 
terests.   He'd  like  her  to  be  pretty. 

"Beautiful  women  are  pace-killing," 
he  said.  "They  have  a  cynical  attitude 
because  of  the  men  they  have  accumu- 
lated and  they  demand  a  lot  of  fuss." 

Even  though  he  prefers  petite 
women,  he  wants  his  girl  slightly 
rugged,  hardy  enough  to  rig  a  sail.  And 
she  shouldn't  be  finicky  about  putting 
on  coveralls  and  taking  apart  an  engine 
with  him.  She  would  be  between 
twenty  and  twenty-five.  Older  women, 
he  thinks,  have  their  own  routine  and 
are  as  stubborn  as  old  bachelors. 

"And  she  should  have  a  lot  of  im- 
agination,"  he   concludes. 

He  figures  a  woman  with  imagination 
would  be  better  able  to  accept  his 
ideas,  impulses  and  hobbies.  Herb's 
hobby  is  collecting  gadgets,  cameras, 
ship  models,  automobiles,  characters 
and  other  hobbies.  He  has  shelves  and 
boxes  full  of  complicated  mechanical 
contraptions. 

"Now  supposing  my  wife  needed  a 
new  refrigerator,"  Herb  asks,  "how 
would  she  react  if  I  spent  our  money 
on  a  four-wheeled  harmonica?" 

He  cites  the  land  cruiser  he  bought 
when  he's  already  garaging  two  Cords, 
an  all-aluminum  Yugoslavian  Tatra 
and  a  custom-bmlt  Packard  which  was 
the  showpiece  in  the  Paris  Auto  Show. 
In  his  pocket,  he  usually  carries  cata- 
logues of  new  foreign  cars  which  are 
for  sale  in  New  York  show  rooms. 

"Is  there  a  woman  who  would  put  up 
with  that  kind  of  goofiness?"  he  asks. 

Actually,  a  lot  of  women  would  like 
to,  for  Herb  is  a  sensitive,  intelligent 
young  man  with  real  talent  for  humor 
as  distinguished  from  the  glib  wise- 
crack. But  the  woman  who  cares  for 
Herb  would  find  her  real  competition 
with  the  picture  he  carries  in  his  wallet. 
It's  a  snapshot  of  the  small  schooner  he 
hopes  to  buy.  This  summer  he  plans 
to  take  a  two-month  cruise  out  of  New 
York,  south  through  the  Panama  Canal, 
then  up  to  California. 

"I'll  probably  find  the  ideal  woman, 
marry  her  and  then  when  she  gets 
aboard  my  ship,  she'll  get  seasick,"  he 
gloomily  predicts. 

But  if  you  know  a  girl  who  doesn't 
mind  crawling  under  a  motor,  cooking 
goulash,  seeing  her  husband  maybe  two 
hours  a  day,  and  prefers  bright  talk 
to  bright  lights,  tell  her  about  Herb. 
She  might  even  be  in  time  to  make  this 
summer's  cruise. 


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R 
M 

87 


i  DUllDAYS  i 
!  GAYDAYS  ! 


RELIEVES  FUNCTIONAL 


I  PERIODIC  PAIN  I 

I    CRAMPS-HEADACHE '"BLUES".    I 

I  |MWhat  a  difference         ^^^  | 


88 


MOTHERS:  24-page  book,  "What  Women 
Want  to  Know",  explains  menstruation.  Sent 
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Dept.N-59,1450  Broadway,  New  York  18,  N.  Y. 


So  Sweet! 

(Continued  from  page   63) 


mixture  over  darker.  Garnish  with 
whipped  cream  and  shaved  chocolate  if 
desired.  Chill  until  firm  (about  3  hours). 
Makes  one  9-inch  pie. 

RUM  CREAM  PEACH  PIE 

Vi  cup  cornstarch 
%  cup  sugar,  divided 
1/4  tsp.  salt 
1%  cups  scalded  milk,  divided 

3  eggs,  separated 

2  tbsps.  butter  or  margarine 
1/2  tsp.  vanilla 

1  tablespoon  rum 

1  baked  9-inch  pie  shell 

2  cups  well-drained  canned  sliced  peaches 

Mix  cornstarch,  V2  cup  of  sugar  and 
salt  in  the  top  of  a  double  boiler.  Add 
%  cup  scalded  milk.  Stir  vigorously 
until  well  blended.  Add  remaining  hot 
milk  and  cook  over  direct  heat  until 
thick  and  smooth,  stirring,  constantly. 
Beat  egg  yolks  well,  stir  in  a  little  of 
hot  mixture  and  pour  back  into  double 
boiler.  Cook  over  hot  water  2  minutes, 
stirring  constantly.  Remove  from  heat, 
stir  in  butter,  vanilla  and  rum.  Beat 
egg  whites  until  stiff.  Then  beat  in  re- 
maining 1/4  cup  sugar  until  thick  and 
smooth.  Fold  meringue  into  hot  filling. 
Pour  into  pie  shell.  Arrange  peaches 
over  top.    Chill.    Makes  one  9-inch  pie. 

COCONUT  CREAM  TARTS 

Make  Rum  Cream  Peach  Filling  as  di- 
rected above,  omitting  rum  and  peaches. 
Fold  in  1/2  cup  moist,  shredded  coconut, 
just  before  adding  meringue.  Pour 
into  tart  shells.  Garnish  with  addi- 
tional 1/2  cup  coconut.  Place  in  a  mod- 
erate oven  (350°  F.)  for  5  minutes  or 
until  the  coconut  is  browned. 

APRICOT  CHIFFON  PIE 

1  envelope  unflavored  gelatin 
1%  cups  unsweetened  apricot  pulp 

1  cup  brown  sugar 

3  eggs,  separated 
1/2  tsp.  salt 

2  tbsps.  granulated  sugar 
1  tbsp.  lemon  juice 

%  cup  heavy  cream 
1  baked  9-inch  pie  shell 

Combine  gelatin,  apricot,  pulp,  brown 
sugar,  egg  yolks,  and  salt  in  top  of 
double  boiler.  Cook  over  hot  water 
until  thick,  stirring  constantly.  Remove 
from  heat.  Chill  until  mixture  begins 
to  thicken.  Beat  egg  whites  until  stiff, 
but  not  dry.  Then  gradually  beat  in 
granulated  sugar.     Fold  the  meringue 


into  the  cooled  apricot  mixture.  Add 
lemon  juice.  Whip  the  cream  and  fold 
into  apricot  mixture.  Pour  into  baked 
shell.  Chill.  Top  with  additional 
whipped  cream,  if  desired.  Makes  one 
9-inch   pie. 

NESSELRODE  PIE 

3  eggs,  separated 
IV2  cups  milk 
Vi  tsp.  salt 
%  cup  sugar,  divided 

1  envelope  unflavored  gelatin 

1  tbsp.  cold  water 

2  tbsps.  rum,  or  rum  flavoring 

Vi  cup  finely  chopped  marsischino  cherries, 
well  drained 

1  9-inch  baked  pie  shell 

2  tbsps.  sweet  chocolate,  shaved 

Combine  egg  yolks,  milk,  salt  and 
1/3  cup  sugar  and  gelatin  in  top  of  double 
boiler.  Cook  over  hot  water  until  thick, 
stirring  occasionally.  Remove  from 
hot  water.  Chill.  Beat  egg  whites  until 
stiff,  but  not  dry.  Beat  in  remaining 
sugar.  Fold  into  gelatin  mixture  with 
rum  and  cherries.  Place  in  shell, 
sprinkle  with  chocolate.  Chill  until 
firm.   Makes  one  9-inch  pie. 

LIME  REFRIGERATOR  PIE 

3  eggs,  separated 
1/2  cup  lime  juice 

Vi  tsp.  freshly  grated  lime  rind 
1  15-oz.  tin  sweetened  condensed  milk 
1  drop  green  food  color 
1  baked  9-inch  pie  shell 
V2  cup  confectioners'  sugar 

Beat  yolks,  add  lime  juice  and  rind 
and  beat  slightly.  Add  milk.  Mix  thor- 
oughly, then  add  color.  Pour  into  cool 
shell.  Beat  egg  whites  until  stiff,  but 
not  dry.  Add  sugar  gradually,  beating 
after  each  addition  until  smooth  and 
thick.  Pile  lightly  over  filling.  Bake 
in  moderate  oven  (350°  F.)  from  12  to 
15  minutes.  Chill  thoroughly.  Makes 
one  9-inch  pie. 

GRAHAM  CRACKER  CRUST 

1%  cups  crushed  graham  crackers  (18 

crackers) 
Vi  cup  sugar 
V2  cup  butter  or  margarine,  melted 

Combine  graham  cracker  crumbs,  sugar 
and  butter.  Press  firmly  into  the  bot- 
tom and  sides  of  a  greased  9-inch  pie 
pan.  Chill  one  hour  before  filling. 
For  extra-rich  flavor,  bake  the  crust 
in  a  moderate  oven  (350°  F.)  8  to  10 
minutes   before   chilling. 


an   /4»utwen^anif   to 
remember 

Listen  to  the  human  stories  of  people  like  you — 
the  humorous,  poignant,  nostalgic  remembrances 
of  life's  anniversaries  and  the  secret  hopes  they 
inspired  on 

BEN  ALEXANDER'S 


Every  Day  Monday-Friday 


Mutual  Stations 


Read  how  you  can  make  an  anniversary  dream  come  true  for  your  dear  ones 
in  True  Love  Stories  magazine  on  newsstands  now. 


Coast  to  Coast  in 
Television 

(Continued  from  page  53) 

(CBS-TV  Mondays,  8:30-9:00  P.M., 
EST)  or  his  other  program  Arthur  God- 
frey and  His  Friends  (Wednesdays, 
8:00-9:00  P.M.,  EST).  The  Monday 
night  telecast  has  a  simultaneous  radio 
broadcast,  for  the  benefit  of  those  not 
blessed  yet  by  TV! 

No  one  has  ever  figured  out,  I'm 
sure,  how  many  talented  young  people 
have  been  launched  on  successful 
careers  by  the  talented  Mr.  Godfrey 
or  how  many  others  have  been  en- 
couraged to  stay  right  in  there  and 
keep  pitching — but  the  list  gets  longer 
every  day.  Most  recently  he's  been 
forming  "touring  units"  of  players,  all 
hand-picked  talent  from  his  programs, 
starting  from  such  famous  stages  as  the 
Capitol  Theater  in  New  York  and  fan- 
ning out  to  the  north  and  the  south 
and  the  west.  Why,  the  thing  threat- 
ens to  become  a  Godfrey  monopoly! 

But  jesting  aside,  it  all  adds  up  to 
that  old  adage  "It  pays  to  be  yourself." 
That  is,  it  does  if  you're  a  guy  named 
Godfrey. 

:(c  4  « 

If  you  think  you  have  headaches, 
consider  the  producer  of  a  television 
show — Owen  Davis,  Jr.  of  Chevrolet 
on  Broadway,  for  instance,  when  he 
was  planning  to  put  "Jinxed"  on  video 
a.  while  ago.  Jackie  Cooper,  Peggy 
Knudsen  and  Ernest  Truex  were  to 
star  in  the  George  Mosel  original.  It 
had  all  been  planned  well  ahead.  But 
on  the  first  day  of  rehearsal  Peggy 
had  to  fly  back  to  Hollywood  from 
New  York  because  of  her  child's  sud- 
den illness.  Truex,  who  was  expecting 
his  play  to  fold  momentarily,  found 
that  "Oh  Mr.  Meadowbrook"  had  taken 
a  box-office  spurt — which  made  him 
unavailable.  And  to  top  it  off.  Cooper 
had  been  signed  for  a  concurrent  band 
date  (Jackie  is  a  super  drummer)  in 
New  England  all  during  rehearsal 
week. 

Davis  grabbed  the  aspirin,  sent  the 
script  up  to  Jackie  to  study  between 
his  performances,  and  grabbed  off 
Mary  Anderson  for  the  Knudsen  role 
and  video  veteran  Vinton  Hayworth 
for  the  Truex  role.  Jackie  shortened 
his  band  engagement,  flew  in  for  quick 
last-minute  rehearsals  and  the  per- 
formance, and  everything  went  off 
smooth  as  silk.  Only  a  fluoroscope  of 
producer  Davis's  stomach  can  tell  what 

it  all  did  to  those  incipient  ulcers! 

*  *         * 

NBC  has  made  itself  the  pioneer  in 
Sunday  morning  TV  programs.  Last 
January  30,  at  10:30  EST,  the  popular 
Horn  and  Hardart  Children's  Hour,  so 
long  familiar  to  radio  listeners,  began 
to  invade  the  Sabbath  stillness  with 
childish 'voices  raised  in  song  and  all 
the  ritual  of  children's  entertainment, 
followed  by  another  program  beamed 
at  the  kids,  called  Pow-Wow.  This 
one's  about  Injuns  and  their  lore. 

It  won't  be  long  now  until  telecast- 
ing is  a  morn  to  midnight  affair,  seven 
days  a  week,  twelve  months  a  year. 
And  wait  till  you  see  those  disc  jockeys 
on  their  all-night  shows,  rubbing  the 
sleep   out  of  their   eyes   as  the  music 

goes  round  and  round. 

*  *         « 

Something  new  has  been  added  to 
Lucky  Pup.  There's  an  extra  half-hour 
weekly  kinescope  recording,  made  up 
of  the  five  Monday  through  Friday 
episodes  condensed  into  one  Saturday 


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show,  presumably  for  the  benefit  of 
those  who  can't  manage  to  catch  Lucky 
during  the  week.  The  show  goes  on  at 
the  same  time  as  the  weekday  one — 
6:30  to  6:45  P.M.  EST,  over  CBS-TV. 
Oh  yes,  and  Doris  Brown,  the  pretty 
girl  who  every  day  tells  you  what  the 
puppets  are  up  to,  makes  a  personal 
appearance  on  Saturdays  too.  Other- 
wise you'd  hear  a  long  loud  squawk 
from  the  papas  of  the  nation.  Papas 
seem  to  prefer  puppets  with  cute  little 
emcees   like   Doris. 


The  Admiral  Corporation,  plus  NBC 
and  DuMont,  inaugurated  the  Friday 
evening  Broadway  Revue  with  a  gala 
telecast  from  the  stage  of  the  Inter- 
national Theater  on  Columbus  Circle, 
New  York.  The  opening  and  the  sub- 
sequent telecasts  starred  Sid  Caesar, 
the  funnyman  who  happily  is  coming 
into  his  own,  after  a  movie  success  in 
"Tars  and  Spars"  and  a  stage  success 
in  "Make  Mine  Manhattan."  Featured 
prominently  in  the  cast  are  Imogene 
Coca,  one  of  the  funniest  gals  that  has 


hit  our  TV  screens,  and  Mary  McCarty, 
late  of  the  play  "Small  Wonder,"  now 
getting  ready  to  go  into  a  Moss  Hart- 
Irving  Berlin  musical  come  early  sum- 
mer. Roy  Atwell,  the  tongue  twisted 
comedian,  mans  the  commercial  and 
manages  to  fill  it  with  static  and  inter- 
ference, to  everybody's  delight,  in- 
cluding  presumably   the   sponsor's. 

Twenty-four  TV  stations  in  sixteen 
cities  see  the  revue.  In  fact,  in  some 
places  it's  telecast  simultaneously  over 
both  NBC  and  DuMont  channels,  so 
you  can  choose  the  one  your  set  brings 
in  most  clearly.  Fourteen  cities  in  the 
South,  the  West  and  on  the  Pacific  Coast 
get  a  delayed  showing  by  tele-tran- 
scription. 

At  the  party  following  the  opening 
telecast,  two  motion  picture  stars  al- 
most stole  the  show  from  the  TV 
shiners.  They  were  Dean  Jagger,  fast 
becoming  well  known  to  television 
too,  and  Lon  McCallister,  who  had  come 
east  for  exploitation  on  his  newest 
Eagle  Lion  movie  "The  Big  Cat,"  and 
a  role  in  a  Colgate  Theater  television 
play. 


90 


WINNER    TAKE    ALL 

{Continued  from  page  47) 


he  is  winning.  Five  or  six  contestants 
are  used  each  week,  chosen  from  the 
studio  audience.  If  a  champ  and  chal- 
lenger are  still  in  the  running  when 
the  time  runs  out  they're  invited  back 
the  next  week.  Longest  TV  run  for  one 
champion  to  date  has  been  five  weeks. 

To  bring  the  popular  show  to  tele- 
vision, questions  had  to  be  made 
visual,  with  stunts  like  a  song-and- 
dance  man  starting  to  tell  an  old-time 
joke  and  asking  for  the  punch  line.  Or 
blown-up  cardboard  cut-outs  of  three 
American  military  medals,  one  of 
which  is  to  be  identified  as  the  high- 
est decoration.  There's  never  a  chance 
for  a  tie,  because  if  the  champion's 
bell  is  pressed  even  a  split  second  be- 
fore the  challenger's  buzzer,  or  vice 
versa,  the  other  signal  is  blocked  off 
electronically. 

One  of  Bud's  favorite  contestants  was 
a  little  Irishman  named  Patrick,  who 
had  been  in  this  country  only  eight 
days   when  he   got   on   the   show.    He 


stayed  on  for  four  weeks,  routing  all 
challengers.  When  he  left,  he  took 
prizes  that  included  bicycles  for  his 
three  girls  and  two  boys,  complete 
football  uniforms  for  the  boys  and 
pretty  dresses  for  the  girls.  "America 
is  certainly  a  wonderful  place  for 
kids,"  was  Patrick's  comment  as  he 
departed  triumphantly. 

Two  beautiful  "Chevvie  Girls"  as- 
sist Bud  in  his  pleasant  and  often 
hilarious  duties.  They  are  blonde 
Gloria  Shannon  and  brunette  Evelyn 
McBride,  and  their  fan  mail  reaches 
from  here  to  there,  as  you  may  well 
imagine. 

But  the  girls  of  his  dreams  are  the 
three  who  live  with  Bud  and  son  Mi- 
chael, who's  six,  going  on  seven — in 
a  14-room  French  Norman  farmhouse 
on  a  Greenwich,  Connecticut  hilltop. 
They  are  Patricia,  almost  eleven, 
Cynthia,  seven;  and  wife  Marian 
Shockley,  a  mighty  good  radio  actress 
in  her  own  right. 


the  man  who  spreads  the 
golden  rule  .  .  . 

Listen  To  Radio's  Good  Neighbor 

JACKBERCH 

and   his   human    stories    of   human   kindness 

Every  Morning  Monday-Friday 

NBC  Stations 

Read  Jack  Berch's  "Heart-To-Heart  Hook-up" 
column  in 

EXPERIENCES 

magazine  now  on  newsstands. 


What's  Real  for  You— 

(Continued  from  page   67) 

in  school?    Why  did  you  have  to  come?" 

"What  are  you  doing  here?"  he  coun- 
tered. "Why  aren't  you  with  me  in 
school?" 

"Joe!"  she  cried  wildly.  "You  haven't 
quit,  have  you?" 

"Maybe  that  depends  on  you,"  he  an- 
swered. "Have  you  really  quit  me,  or 
haven't  you?" 

"You're  crazy — "  A  fit  of  coughing 
stopped  her.  "You  have  quit,"  she  said 
when  she  was  able  to  go  on.  "I  can 
see  it.  Well,  we'll  just  mark  it  up  against 
Starr  again — the  lone  last  thing  she  fig- 
ured out  wrong  in  the  big  romance  of 
Starr  and  Joe.  It  never  occurred  to  me 
you'd  quit  college  and  come  after 
me.  You've  got  to  go  right  back  and 
make  them  take  you  in  at  the  Semi- 
nary." 

"I'd  like  that,"  he  agreed,  "if  you'll 
come  with  me." 

HER  voice  shot  up  again.  "Stop  it!"  she 
cried  tearfully.  "I'm  bad  for  you, 
and  we  both  know  it.  All  I've  ever  done 
is  spoil  things  for  you!  Won't  you  un- 
derstand? Do  you  have  to  be  hit  on 
the  head  with  a  club?  I  spoiled  things 
for  everybody  in  Rushville  Center,  for 
Ma  and  Fay — everyone!  And  then  when 
you  started  school  and  we  were  off 
by  ourselves  in  Fort  William,  I  hated 
the  life  we  were  living!  I  hated  the 
Quonset  hut  and  the  movies  once  a 
week  for  a  big  celebration — and  if  you 
had  any  brains,  you'd  know  it  wouldn't 
be  long  before  I  began  hating  you!" 

He  took  it   all  in   silently,   his   eyes 

incredulous,  searching  into  hers.  Then 

he  said  slowly,  "I  sure  don't  have  the 

brains    to    see    that       We're    married, 

Starr,  and  you  can  never  tell  me  that 

doesn't  mean   anything   to   you.      Just 

tell  me  one  thing,  and  look  at  me  when 

you  say  it.    You — you  really  don't  want 

;   to   live   with   me   any   more?" 

;       She  lifted  her  head,  suddenly  strong 

I    and  proud,  and  looked  him  full  in  the 

face.  "From  the  bottom  of  my  heart," 

she  said  distinctly,  "I  don't  want  to  live 

with  you  any  more." 

I       His   expression    didn't   change;    only 

I   his  eyes  probed  more  deeply  into  hers. 

'    "And  is  it  for  your  sake,  or  is  it  for 

some  crazy  idea  you  think  it's  for  my 

sake?     Let's  not  be  generous;  let's  be 

selfish.    Selfishly,  would  you  rather  be 

I   here,   or  with  me?" 

Starr  fixed  her  eyes  upon  Joseph's 
eyes  and  her  mind  upon  the  mink  coat 
'  in  the  closet.  It  would  help  her  to  sound 
convincing.  Because  she  did  want  a 
mink  coat,  and  all  the  things  that  went 
I  with  it  .  .  .  only  she  wanted  Joseph, 
who  never  would  be  able  to  give  them 
to  her,  to  give  them  to  her.  And  more 
than  anything  else  she  wanted  Joseph 
himself — but  she  mustn't  think  of  that 
now.  Just  think  about  the  coat,  and 
sound  convincing. 

"From  the  bottom  of  my  heart,"  she 
i    said,  "I'd  rather  be  here." 

He'd  made  up  his  mind  to  take  her  at 

I   her  word,  but  now  he  found  that  he 

couldn't.    "Starr — "  He  reached  for  her, 

pleadingly.  She  jerked  back  as  if  stung. 

!   "Oh,  go  away!"  she  cried  hysterically. 

,    "Can't  you  see   what  you're   doing   to 

I   me?    In  the  name  of  heaven,  go  away!" 

"All  right,  Starr."    He  spoke  quietly, 

1   soothingly.    "I'll  go,  and  I  won't  bother 

j   you  any  more.    But  won't  you  see  me 

J   just  once  again — tomorrow,  when  you 

]   feel  better?     I'd  feel  surer  about  it  if 

(  you  told  me  all  this  when  you  weren't 

I  so  upset — " 


I  SENI>  $1   WITK  COUPON  -  PAY  BALANCE 

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<'2 


She  nodded.  She  was  crying  and 
coughing  and  making  ineffectual  dabs 
at  her  eyes,  but  she  gave  him  the  ad- 
dress of  her  hotel  and  agreed  to  see  him 
there  at  three  the  next  afternoon. 

Then  he  left  her,  although  he  hated 
leaving  her,  even  for  a  few  hours.  She 
looked  sick— she  was  sick,  in  body  and 
spirit.  He  couldn't  wait  to  get  her  out 
of  New  York,  to  take  her  home  with 
him,  back  to  Ma —  And  there  his 
thought  stuck.  The  burden  would  fall 
upon  Ma  again.  Ever  since  he'd  met 
her,  when  Starr's  father,  Professor 
Bassett,  had  established  his  "religious 
refuge"  in  Rushville  Center,  bringing 
Joseph  and  Starr  with  him,  Ma  Perkins 
had  been  shouldering  Joseph's  and 
Starr's  troubles.  Not  just  because  she 
was  Ma  and  could  no  more  resist  offer- 
ing a  helping  hand  than  she  could  stop 
breathing,  but  because  she  loved  them 
— loved  Joseph,  especially,  as  her  own 
son.  He  looked  like  her  John  who'd 
been  killed  in  the  war;  he  had  the  same 
speech,  the  same  mannerisms.  Some- 
times Ma  called  him  by  John's  name; 
sometimes  she  actually  forgot  that  he 
wasn't  John  Perkins. 

There'd  been  an  element  of  truth  in 
the  words  Starr  had  flung  at  him  so 
hysterically.  Going  back  to  Rushville 
Center  meant  more  trouble  for  Ma.  But 
then,  Ma  wanted  them  back.  She  had 
helped  Joseph  make  this  trip  to  search 
for  Starr;  she  had  arranged  to  have  him 
stay  with  her  friends,  the  Fentons.  For 
Ma's  sake  as  well  as  his  own,  he  had  to 
take  Starr  back  with  him  to  Rushville 
Center. 

Promptly  at  three  the  next  afternoon 
Joseph  walked  into  the  lobby  of  Starr's 
shabby  little  side  street  rooming  house- 
hotel.  He'd  been  afraid  to  come  early; 
it  would  have  seemed  too  much  like 
pushing  his  luck. 

"Miss  Jane  Smith,"  he  told  the  girl  at 
the  switchboard.  "She's  expecting 
me — " 

"Miss  Smith  has  checked  out." 

He  didn't  believe  it;  his  first  reaction 
was  an  irrational  anger  at  Starr  for 
having  chosen  a  name  that  could  so 
easily  be  mistaken.  "She  can't  have," 
he  declared.  "She's  expecting  me.  It 
must  be  another  Miss  Smith." 

"Only  one  in  the  house,  believe  it  or 
not,"  said  the  girl  flatly.  Then  she 
looked  more  closely  at  him,  and  her 
face  softened  sympathetically.  "I'm 
sorry,"  she  said.  "She  was  leaving 
when  I  came  on  at  noon — a  red-headed 
girl." 

"But  she  wouldn't — "  He  had  to  stop 
and  clear  his  throat,  which  had  sud- 
denly become  dry  and  scratchy.    "She'll 


be  back,  or  she'll  call — and  when  she 
does,  will  you  tell  her  I'm  waiting.  I'll 
be  in  that  big  chair  over  there — " 

He  sat  down  facing  the  lobby  clock, 
his  eyes  rivetted  on  the  creeping  min- 
ute hand.  And  it  seemed  that  with  each 
completed  circle,  the  hand  twisted  his 
heart  tighter  and  tighter  ...  He  jumped 
as  a  voice  spoke  at  his  elbow.  "Say. 
Bud — your  name  Joe?    Joseph?" 

"Yes."  Joseph  stared  at  him,  dazzled. 
A  nondescript  little  man — but  Starr 
must  have  sent  him!  "You  have  a 
message  for  me?" 

"Yeah,"  said  the  man.  "Annie  doesn't 
live  here  any  more." 

"Annie — What — "  And  then  he  un- 
derstood. His  eyes  narrowed  omin- 
ously. "See  here,"  he  said,  "are  you 
from  Eddie  Markel?" 

"Let's  name  no  names.  Bud.  Just  go 
home.  Nothing  to  wait  for.  She's  gone 
away.  She  doesn't  want  to  see  you.  So 
long,  friend — " 

"WaAtl"  But  it  was  incredible  how 
fast  the  little  man  faded.  Joseph  fol- 
lowed him  out  of  the  lobby,  out  into  the 
street,  before  he  realized  that  it  was  no 
use.  The  man  was  gone.  And  Starr 
was  gone. 

He  walked  the  twenty-odd  blocks 
back  to  the  Fenton's  apartment,  hardly 
knowing  where  he  was  going,  knowing 
only  that  he  had  lost  all  direction,  all 
purpose — for  the  rest  of  his  life.  He 
was  packing  his  suitcase  when  Francis 
and  Zenith  Fenton  came  home  and 
found  him. 

Francis  warned  Zenith  away  with  a 
look  that  said,  "This  had  better  be  man 
to  man,"  and  asked,  "Going  someplace, 
junior?" 

Joseph  looked  at  him  blankly.  "She's 
gone,"  he  said.  "She'd  left  the  hotel, 
and  then  a  man  came  up  and  said  she 
didn't  want  to  see  me." 

"You  mean  she's  gone  with  Eddie 
Markel?" 

"I  hadn't  thought  about  it,"  said  Jos- 
eph. "The  point  is,  she's  gone  of  her 
own  free  will.  I'm  running  out  of 
inoney;  she  knows  I  can't  stay  in  New 
York  forever  ...  so  she  must  want  me 
to  go  back." 

"And  leave  her  with  Markel?"  Fran- 
cis' voice  rose.  "Listen  to  an  old  news- 
paperman, junior.  Markel's  a  hoodlum. 
Not  too  bad  as  hoods  go,  but  a  hoodlum 
just  the  same.  I  wouldn't  take  the  word" 
of  one  of  his  stooges  for  what  my  wife 
wanted.  I'd  wait  until  I  heard  it  from 
her  own  lips." 

"I  did,"  said  Joseph  wryly.  "Last 
night." 

"Did  you  feel  that  she  meant  it?  That 
she  was  telling  the  truth?  Do  you  really 


^<»YOU<^<^et  HEART  OF  GOLD? 

Or,  do  you  KNOW  someone  whose  good  works  and 
unselfishness  deserve  recognition?  You  can  tell 
about  it  AND  win  a  valuable  prize  on 

"LADIES  BE  SEATED" 

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For  details  of  the  "Heart  Of  Gold"  contest,  read  the 
current  issue  of  TRUE  ROMANCE  magazine  now 
at  newsstands! 


believe  that  she's  through  with  you?" 

"I  felt  she  was  lying,"  Joseph  ad- 
mitted. "But  maybe  it  was  because  I 
wanted  to  feel  that  way." 

"Joe,  listen."  Francis  was  pleading 
now.  "I'd  never  forgive  myself  if  I  let 
you  go  home  without  seeing  her  again. 
And  rather  than  let  her  fall  into  Eddie 
Markel's  hands,  I'd  tear  down  every 
building  in  New  York  City  until  I  found 
her  and  got  it  straightened  out.  A  little 
fight  in  there,  boy — a  little  of  the  old 
scrapperoo!" 

"Yeay!"  Zenith's  voice  came  from  the 
other  room.     "That's  telling  'em!" 

"Hey,"  Francis  yelled.  "You  weren't 
supposed  to  be  listening  to  this!" 

"I  wasn't!"  began  Zenith  with  dignity, 
but  then  she  snickered,  and  even  Joseph 
laughed. 

THAT  was  how  he  and  Francis  Fenton 
came  to  pay  a  call  on  Eddie  Markel 
the  next  afternoon.  It  was  well  that 
Francis  went  along.  Eddie  was  indis- 
posed to  see  them,  and  admitted  them 
only  because  Francis  was  a  newspaper- 
man and  could,  if  he  wished,  do  hini 
harm.  It  was  Francis  who  kept  Joseph's 
temper  in  leash  and  asked  Eddie  perti- 
nent questions  that  had  to  be  answered. 
The  whole  thing  had  an  unreal,  night- 
mare quality  for  Joseph.  He  couldn't  be 
begging  this  slick,  too-well-dressed 
night  club  operator  for  information 
about  his  Starr;  it  couldn't  be  true  that 
Starr  was  going  to  divorce  him  and 
marry  Eddie  Markel. 

Eddie  had  her  installed  in  an  apart- 
ment in  the  best  part  of  town.  Adele, 
one  of  his  other  hat-check  girls,  was 
staying  with  her  as  nurse  and  chaper- 
one.  Eddie  was  treating  Starr  very  well 
and  was  obviously  proud  of  it,  and 
proud  of  his  honorable  intentions.  He 
regarded  Joseph  as  a  poor  loser  who 
was  welshing  on  his  bargain. 

"Look,  Mister,"  he  said,  "we  agreed 
to  let  Starr  make  up  her  own  mind.  And 
she  did,  and  now  you're  crawling. 
What'U  it  take  to  convince  you?" 

Joseph  didn't  answer  immediately. 
Then  he  asked,  "You  must  have  a  safe 
somewhere,  Mr.  Markel.  Isn't  there 
someone  you  trust  with  the  combina- 
tion?" 

Eddie  blinked.  "Well— sure.  But 
what's  my  safe  got  to  do  with  it?" 

"Just  this,"  said  Joseph.  "How  do 
you  know  that  person  won't  run  away 
with  all  your  money?" 

Eddie  shifted  uneasily.  "Because  it's 
somebody  I  know.    Somebody  I  trust." 

"Exactly,"  said  Joseph.  "You  know 
that  person,  and  therefore  you  know 
that  he  wouldn't  play  a  dirty  trick.  It's 
the  same  with  Starr  and  me.  I  know 
her;  I  know  what  makes  the  wheels  go 
round.  She's  sick;  she's  been  under  a 
great  strain  for  a  year — and,  yes,  for 
years  before  that.  As  for  her  running 
away  from  me — it  was  to  help  me.  I 
know  it  sounds  crazy,  but  that's  what's 
in  her  head.  She  thinks  she'd  make  a 
bad  wife  for  a  minister,  and  that's  all  it 
is!" 

"A  minister?"  asked  Eddie.  "Are  you 
a  minister?" 

"No,"  said  Joseph.  "I'm  studying. 
Was  studying." 

Eddie  stared  at  him  thoughtfully,  and 
then  he  sighed.  "Okay,"  he  said.  "I 
ought  to  have  my  head  examined,  but 
I'll  call  the  doctor  and  see  if  she  can 
have  company.  If  she  can,  you  can  put 
it  up  to  her,  for  the  last  time.  Not 
whether  she'll  marry  me — she  hasn't 
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whether  or  not  she's  sticking  with  you. 
And  this  time  it's  final.  If  she  says  'go' 
you  go.    That  fair?" 

"Um,"  Francis  put  in.     "How  do  we 


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know  you  won't  stack  the  cards  before 
you  take  Joe  to  her?" 

"Use  your  brains,"  Eddie  told  him 
impatiently.  "Why  should  I  stack  the 
cards  and  wind  up  with  a  dame  who 
plays  tricks  on  me  like  he  says  she  plays 
on  him?  I'm  just  as  interested  in  get- 
ting at  the  truth  as  you  are!" 

And  this  too,  was  part  of  a  nightmare, 
Joseph  thought  the  next  afternoon  as 
he  and  Francis  entered  the  imposing 
apartment  house  lobby — going  to  see 
his  own  wife,  with  the  permission  of 
Eddie  Markel  and  Eddie  Markel's  doc- 
tor. He  left  Francis  in  the  lobby  and 
took  the  elevator  up.  The  girl  who 
opened  the  apartment  door  was  un- 
naturally redheaded  and  pertly  pretty. 

"So  you're  her  husband,"  she  greeted 
him.  "The  Jimmy  Stewart  type.  This 
way — "  He  followed  her,  and  there  was 
Starr,  propped  up  against  a  small  moun- 
tain of  pillows  wearing  a  delicately  em- 
broidered bed  jacket  that  Joseph  knew 
instinctively  must  have  cost  more  than 
he  earned  in  a  season.  Starr,  with  a 
down  puff  across  her  knees,  and  a  dress- 
ing table  covered  with  cut-glass  bottles 
and  a  view  of  Central  Park  from  her 
window — 

"Hello,  Joe,"  she  said  tremulously. 
"Come  on  in."  And  then  as  he  stared 
at  her  speechlessly,  silently,  she  asked, 
"Aren't  you  even  going  to  say  hello?" 

"I — "  He  could  contain  himself  no 
longer.  "Starr,  when  I  got  out  of  the 
army,  I  said  I'd  never  fight  with  any- 
one again,  that  I'd  try  to  understand  the 
other  fellow.  But  I — right  now — what's 
my  wife  doing  in  another  man's  apart- 
ment? With  him  treating  me  as  if  I — 
Starr,  if  you  weren't  sick,  I'd  pick  you 
right  up  out  of  that  bed  and  take  you 
home  where  you  belong,  and  if  Eddie 
Markel  tried  to  stop  me,  I'd  break  his 
neck!" 

"You  shouldn't  be  mad  at  him,  Joe," 
she  said  in  a  small  voice.  "He's  been 
nice  to  me.  I  was  sick  and  broke — and 
he's  done  everything  for  me.  That  girl 
out  there,  Adele,  she's  staying  here, 
looking  after  me — Joe!"  She  broke  off, 
alarmed.  "I  hope  you  don't  think  there's 
anything  wrong  about  me  being  here!" 

"Will  you  tell  me  what's  right  about 
it?"  Joseph  shouted.  "I — "  He  broke 
off,  choking.  "Starr,"  he  went  on,  try- 
ing desperately  to  sound  calm  and  rea- 
sonable, "naturally,  I  don't  think  Eddie 
Markel  means  anything  to  you.  What's 
important  is,  I  want  to  know  when 
you'll  be  well,  so  I  can  plan  when  you'll 
come  back  home  with  me." 

Her  eyes  were  huge,  wistful — she  was 
nothing  but  eyes.     She  looked  as  if  a 


puft'  of  wind  could  lift  her  and  carry 
her  away.  "What'll  we  do  back  home, 
darling?"  she  asked  softly. 

"Do?"  he  repeated.  And  a  vision  of 
home  rose  before  him.  Starr  in  the 
Quonset  hut  off  the  campus,  waiting 
for  him  when  he  came  in  from  class; 
Starr  walking  home  from  the  movies 
with  him,  hand  in  hand,  gazing  wist- 
fully into  shop  windows  and  then  turn- 
ing to  him  passionately  when  they 
reached  home,  saying,  "You're  every- 
thing, Joseph!  I've  always  wanted  so 
many  things,  but  you're  all  I've  ever 
loved — " 

"Why,"  he  went  on,  "we'll  just  be 
there,  darling,  like  we  were  before — 
only  better.  I've  been  selfish — I  see 
that  now.  This  time  we'll  do  it  your 
way." 

"What  do  you  mean,  my  way?"  Her 
voice  was  low,  coaxing. 

"Well — my  job,  for  one  thing,"  he 
said.  "It  wasn't  fair  to  you — me  having 
classes  all  day  and  then  that  job  until 
midnight.  I'll  get  a  different  job,  and 
we'll  try  to  find  a  better  place  to  live 
than  the  Quonset  hut.  And  then  our 
neighbors,  like  the  Blattners — I  don't 
blame  you  for  the  way  they  affected 
you.  They  meant  well,  but  they  were 
awfully  loud,  and  .  .  .  Well,  I  guess 
you're  just  more  sensitive  than  I  am. 
From  now  on,  I  won't  fuss  at  you  for 
not  being  pals  with  a  bunch  of  people 
who  really  don't  mean  much  to  me, 
either.     How  does  that  sound  to  you?" 

"Oh,  Joe!"  She  swallowed,  and  her 
eyes  were  bright  with  tears.  "You're 
sweet — so  very  sweet.  I  guess  I  did 
right  to  fall  in  love  with  you.  I  guess 
I'll  never  again  know  anything  as  good 
as  loving  you  has  been." 

Panic  rose  in  him.  She  spoke  as  if 
it  were  all  in  the  past.  "What  do  you 
mean  has  been?"  he  demanded  ex- 
citedly. "You  still  love  me,  Starr.  You 
can't  fool  me  about  that — " 

She  gave  him  a  long,  strange  look, 
and  for  a  crazy  moment  she  reminded 
him  of — of  all  people — Ma  Perkins. 
There  were  no  two  people  in  the  world 
who  were  less  alike  than  Starr  and  Ma, 
but  he  had  seen  that  same  expression 
in  Ma's  eyes — a  deep,  compassionate 
look,  as  if  she  knew  depths  of  love  and 
understanding  that  others  could  only 
guess  at. 

And  her  voice  when  she  spoke  was 
like  her  eyes — full  of  love  and  infinitely 
sad  and  wise.  "Oh,  lover,"  she  said, 
"you  mustn't  ever  talk  to  a  girl  the  way 
you  just  did — -make  her  promises  like 
those!  If  you  do,  it'll  be  the  end  of  Joe 
— and   that's   what   must   not   happen! 


STORIES  OF  LOVE,  SORROW,  ARVENTVRE 

told  in  person  by  the  people  who  experienced  them. 


Listen  to 


EXPERIENCE    SPEAK§ 

"THE  LAUGHTER  AND  TEARS   OF  THE  WORLD" 

the  exciting  new  radio  program  taken  from  the 
pages  of  EXPERIENCES  magazine 


EVERY  FRIDAY  NIGHT        8  P.M.,   EASTERN  TIME 

On  Your  Mutual  Station 
Don't  miss  the  current  issue  of  the  new 

EXPERIENCES  magazine  now  on  the  newsstands. 


H 


Because  you're  so  much  more  important 
than  any  girl;  you're  the  most  important 
person  in  the — " 

"Starr,  for  heaven's  sake,  talk  sense!" 
he  exclaimed.  "Listen,  all  I  want  to 
know  is.  when  you  can — " 

"You  listen,"  she  cut  in  passionately. 
"I'm  no  good,  Joe,  not  for  anybody. 
About  my  mother  I  don't  know,  but  she 
couldn't  have  been  too  wonderful  or 
she  wouldn't  have  married  my  father. 
About  my  father  you  know — " 

"What  of  it?"  he  cried.  "There's  no 
such  thing  as  a  person  being  born 
bad—" 

"I  was,"  said  Starr.  "I've  been  bad 
for  everyone.  Ma  Perkins  took  us  in — 
and  look  what  I  did  to  her  and  to  Fay, 
almost  crippled  Fay  for  life!  I  had  to 
get  rich  in  a  hurry,  so  I  lost  my  money, 
and  you  had  to  work  like  a  dog.  And 
now  you  tell  me  it's  you  who's  going  to 
change!  Do  you  think  I  want  that  on 
my  conscience,  too?" 

Joseph  walked  over  to  the  bed  and 
laid  his  hands  on  her  shoulders  and 
shook  her.  "Stop  it,"  he  ordered 
through  set  teeth.  "Stop  trying  to  do 
my  thinking  for  me.  I'll  think  what  I 
want,  and  you  think  what  you  want — " 

SHE  twisted  away  from  him,  so -vio- 
lently that  some  of  the  little  heaped- 
up  pillows  slid  to  the  floor.  "I  am  think- 
ing of  myself!  What  kind  of  life  would  I 
have,  watching  out  every  minute  that  I 
wouldn't  hurt  you,  wondering  every 
minute  what  sort  of  sacrifices  you  were 
making  for  me?  How  long  would  it  be 
before  I  wanted  to  kill  you — or  myself? 
This  way  is  better,  Joe.  We  get  di- 
vorced; it's  over;  you  go  your  way  and 

"You'll  what?"  Joseph's  eyes  were 
dangerous.     "Be  Eddie  Markel's  girl?" 

"So  what?"  She  sat  bolt  upright,  her 
lace  twisted,  tears  pouring  down  her 
cheeks.  "Maybe  I'd  just  love  being 
Eddie  Markel's  girl!  He's  a  crook  too — 
maybe  we'd  get  along  fine!"  She  fell 
back,  moaning,  "Oh,  get  out — get  out, 
Joseph!  Can't  you  see  what  you're  do- 
ing to  me?  I'm  only  trying  to  do  what 
I  know  I've  got  to  do,  and  you  stand 
there  torturing  me — " 

It  hit  him,  then,  that  he  was  torturing 
her.  This  meeting  was  accomplishing 
no  more  than  the  other.  There  was  no 
reasoning  with  Starr,  no  pleading,  no 
way  to  persuade  her.  All  he  was  suc- 
ceeding in  doing  was  to  reduce  her  to 
gibbering  hysteria. 

"All  right,"  he  said,  his  voice  barely 
audible.  "Maybe  you're  right,  Starr. 
I've  known  for  some  time  that  emo- 
tionally you — well,  you  need  a  rest.  But 
if  I'm  the  one  who  makes  you  unbal- 
anced, maybe  you're  right,  Starr.  It's 
over.  I  don't  want  it  to  be — but  every 
1/  word  I  say  just  makes  it  worse,  doesn't 
'  it?" 

She  didn't  answer.  She  cowered  back 
among  the  pillows,  her  face  buried  in 
her  hands. 

"Doesn't  it?"  Joseph  repeated,  plead- 
ing again  in  spite  of  himself.  And 
when  she  didn't  move,  when  there  was 
still  no  answer,  he  turned  and  walked 
out. 

He  had  one  satisfaction.  In  the  little 
hall  outside  Starr's  room  he  met  Eddie 
Markel,  spruce,  and — after  one  look  at 
Joseph — self-satisfied. 

"Well!"  Eddie  exclaimed,  "I  don't 
have  to  ask  how  it  came  out.  Now,  no 
hard  feelings,  brother.  And  if  you 
want  to  write  to  her  every  once  in  a 
while,  it's  perfectly  all  right  with  me." 

Joseph's  hand,  doubled  into  a  fist, 
went  back,  came  forward  again  with 
the  speed  and  accuracy  of  a  bullet. 
Eddie  went  down.    Unhurriedly,  Joseph 


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walked  on  to  the  outer  door.  Eddie 
scrambled  to  his  feet,  pure  poison  in  his 
eyes,  then,  as  the  door  closed,  he  began 
to  grin,  ruefully  but  triumphantly. 

He  was  set,  now.  The  would-be  min- 
ister had  hit  him,  and  so  had"  conclu- 
sively admitted  defeat.  From  now  on 
Eddie's  dreams,  which  had  grown  more 
elaborate  by  the  day  since  he'd  met 
Starr,  would  begin  to  come  true.  He 
saw  an  estate  in  Maryland — no  slick, 
vulgar  penthouse  for  his  Starr — with  a 
columned  colonial  house  and  rolling 
grounds,  horses,  dogs,  an  army  of  ser- 
vants, and  Starr  there,  living  like  the 
queen  she  was.  His  queen,  to  serve,  to 
give  things  to  .  .  .  and  for  that  matter 
why  not  start  giving  her  things  now? 
Christmas  was  just  around  the  corner; 
was  there  any  harm  in  rushing  the  sea- 
son just  a  little  bit? 

IT  was  Christmas  Eve,  the  day  the  mink 
coat  was  delivered,  that  the  little 
old  lady  came.  Eddie  had  just  left 
Starr  with  the  coat  and  was  in  the  living 
room  with  Adele,  receiving  Adele's 
effusive  thanks  for  a  wrist  watch,  when 
there  was  a  tap  on  the  door.  Eddie  went 
to  open  it;  a  little  old  lady  stood  on  the 
threshold,  a  picture-book  old  lady,  with 
white  hair  waving  under  a  tiny  velvet 
toque,  a  neat  scrap  of  fur  at  the  throat 
of  her  neat  cloth  coat. 

"Mr.  Markel?"  she  asked  composedly. 
"I'm  Mrs.  Perkins  from  Rushville  Cen- 
ter— only  back  there  everybody  calls 
me  Ma.     I'd  like  to  see  Starr,  please." 

For  a  moment  Eddie  was  speechless. 

Had  a  genii  appeared  on  his  doorstep, 
he  couldn't  have  been  more  surprised. 
Then  he  stuttered,  "Who  told  you — 
How  do  you  know  who  I  am?" 

"My  friend,  Francis  Fenton,  called 
me,"  the  old  lady  explained  sweetly. 
"He  told  me  that  our  Starr  was  here, 
and  that  she  was  ill  and  upset,  and  that 
he  thought  someone  from  home  ought 
to  see  her.  And — I'd  like  to  see  her,  Mr. 
Markel." 

Eddie  recovered  quickly.  "Sorry,"  he 
said.  "But  the  doctor  said  she's  to  have 
no  visitors.  Maybe  some  other  time — " 
And  he  made  as  if  to  shut  the  door. 

The  old  lady  didn't  move.  Her  blue 
eyes  remained  gentle,  her  face  sweetly 
composed,  but  for  some  reason  Eddie 
changed  his  mind  about  closing  the  door 
and  took  a  step  backward. 

"Let's  get  straight  to  the  point,  Mr. 
Markel,"  she  said.  "Are  you  scared  to 
let  Starr  see  an  old  friend?  If  your  hold 
on  her  is  so  small,  you  can't  have  much 
of  a  hold  at  all." 

"What  are  you  talking  about?"  Eddie 
blustered,  and  turned  quickly  at  a  sound 
from  the  back  hall. 

"Adele — "  Starr  stood  in  the  hallway, 
calling.     "Where  is  my —  Ma?" 

"Starr,  child!"  The  old  lady  rushed 
past  him.  The  next  few  minutes  were 
busy  ones,  with  Starr  and  the  old  lady 
embracing,  and  the  old  lady  bundling 
Starr  into  bed,  and  Eddie  banishing  the 
fascinated  Adele  to  the  outer  room. 

Starr  and  the  old  lady  were  talking 
about  people  Eddie'd  heard  of — people 
called  Shuffle  and  Willy  and  Evey  and 
Fay  and  a  little  Paulette.  They  were 
all  just  fine,  it  seemed;  they  were  all 
anxious  to  know  when  Starr  was  coming 
home.  "And  I  brought  you  this,"  Ma 
said,  placing  a  small  package  in  Starr's 
hands,  "from  someone  who  loves  you 
very  much." 

"Joseph!"  Starr  whispered.  "Has  he 
—is  he—?" 

"No,"  said  Ma,  "he  didn't  go  back 
home,  Starr.  He's  right  here  in  New 
York — right  down  in  the  lobby,  for  that 
matter." 

"In    the   lobby!"   Eddie   echoed  con- 


temptuQusly.     "Is  he  sending  you  up  to 
fight  his  battles  for  him?" 

Ma  turned  to  him,  and  again  he 
sensed  an  indomitable  will  behind  the 
blue  eyes.  "I  believe  Joseph  made  a 
bargain  with  you,  Mr.  Markel,"  she  said 
drily,  "that  he  felt  bound  to  keep.  That's 
why  I've  come  to  talk  to  Starr." 

"It  won't  do  any  good,  Ma."  Starr  was 
fumbling  with  the  wrappings  of  the 
tiny  package.  "I  don't  belong  in  Rush- 
ville  Center.  I — I  guess  I  don't  really 
belong  anywhere.  Oh,  Ma!"  She  had 
the  box  open,  was  holding  up  a  necklace 
of  tiny  carved  wooden  beads. 

"A  kid's  necklace!"  snorted  Eddie. 
"About  twenty  cents'  worth — " 

"Thirty-five  cents,  Mr.  Mai'kel,"  said 
Ma.  "All  he  could  afford.  There's  a 
card,  Starr." 

Starr  was  crying — as  she  hadn't  cried 
over  the  mink  coat.  "Forget  the  card!" 
Eddie  shouted.  "Look  at  your  coat! 
Natural  wild  Canadian  minks,  forty- 
nine  hundred  without  the  tax!" 

"Oh,  Ma — "  Starr  cradled  the  beads 
in  the  palms  of  her  hands.  "Joseph — 
What  am  I  going  to  do?" 

"Do?"  said  Ma.  "Why  child,  you're 
just  going  to  ask  yourself  what's  real 
for  you,  what  you  really  want.  I  expect 
you've  always  wanted  a  lot  of  things 
you  weren't  to  blame  for  wanting.  And 
now  it  looks  to  me  as  if  you've  got  them. 
Just  ask  yourself  if  that's  what's  real 

:  for  you.  Are  you  any  happier  for  things 
like — like  this  mink  coat?" 

"It  isn't  just  that,  Ma."  Starr's  lips 
trembled.  "It's  Joseph.  I'm  bad  for 
him,  because  of  the  way  I  am.  And  so, 
I  guess  you'd  better  give  these  back  to 
him — "  She  held  out  the  beads. 

"That's  the  girl!"  Eddie  cried.  "And 
now  tell  her  the  rest.  Tell  her  you're 
not  only  going  to  divorce  him,  but 
you're  going  to  marry  me!" 

'     "I'm  going  to — "  But  she  couldn't  fin- 

'ish,  couldn't  say  it.    "You've  never  even 
asked  me  if  I  loved  you,.  Eddie." 
"Oh,     love!"     said     Eddie     fretfully. 

^"People  get  married  for  lots  of  reasons 

i — because  their  sister's  getting  married, 
or  because  they're  tired  of  being  some- 
body's secretary,  or  because  they  want 

^o  go  to  California — " 

"And  why,"  Ma  interrupted,  "do  you 

nvant  to  marry  Starr,  Mr.  Markel?" 

fjlDDIE  blinked.  "Why— because  I 
J  want  to  take  care  of  her!  She's  sick; 
he  needs  somebody.  Isn't  that  a  legiti- 
mate reason,  if  taking  care  of  her  makes 
me  feel  big  and  strong?" 

"A  real  legitimate  reason,"  said  Ma 
jsweetly.  "Is  it  the  only  one?" 
'  "No."  Eddie  reddened  at  the  pros- 
pect of  bringing  his  dreams  so  close  to 
the  surface.  "She's  beautiful.  With 
the  right  clothes,  she'll  look  like  a  prin- 
cess. She's  an  aristocrat.  Look  at  her 
TDones,  her  wrists — she's  got  breeding. 
Say,  what  is  this?  The  True  Hearts 
hour?" 

-,  "I  always  wanted  to  be  rich,"  Starr 
put  in  shakily.  "Things  like  that  mink 
coat — I  don't  say  my  reasons  are  highly 
moral,  but  that's  the  way  I  am." 
'  "Is  it,  Starr?"  Ma  asked  quietly.  When 
the  girl  had  no  answer,  she  went  on, 
{'Reckon  that's  the  best  looking  coat  I've 
ever  seen.  Er — mind  if  I  slip  it  on,  Mr. 
Markel?" 

j  "You — "  He  snickered.  "I  guess  mink 
%ets  'em  all.     Sure,  grandma — " 

Gallantly,  he  helped  her  out  of  the 
loth  coat,  into  the  mink.  She  stroked 
he  satiny  skins,  examined  the  gleam- 
ng  lining. 
"Mmm,"  she  said.  "No  label.  Gladys 
endleton  once  told  me  that  when  a 
^oat  is  stolen,  they  take  out  the  lining 
and  put  in  a  new  lining — " 


Vorlt  let  your  daughter  marry 
still  In  doubt  about 


but  first  make  sure  your  own  knowledge  is 
SCIENTIFIC  and  SOUND ! 


The  practice  of  vaginal  douching  has 
become  so  widely  accepted  and  used 
today,  it's  no  longer  a  question  of  douch- 
ing but  rather  what  a  woman  should 
put  in  her  douche.  And  certainly  every 
woman  should  be  made  to  realize: 

No  other  type  liquid  antiseptic- 
germicide  tested  for  the  douche  is  so 
POWERFUL  yet  so  HARMLESS  as  zonite! 
Scientists  tested  every  generally  known 
antiseptic  they  could  find  on  sale  for 
this  purpose.  And  no  other  type  was  so 
powerful  yet  so  safe  to  tissues  as  zonite. 

Warns  Against  Weak 

or  Dangerous  Products 

It's  a  pity  how  many  women,  through 
ignorant  advice  of  friends,  still  use  salt, 
soda  or  vinegar  for  the  douche.  These 
'kitchen  makeshifts'  are  not  germicides 
in  the  douche.  They  never  can  assure 
you  the  great  germicidal  and  deodor- 
izing action  of  zonite. 

Women  should  learn  the  importance 


of  using  only  a  germicide  intended  for 
vaginal  douching — one  powerfully  germi- 
cidal with  deodorizing  and  dissolving 
qualities  yet  one  absolutely  safe  to  tis- 
sues. So  why  not  enjoy  zonite's  great 
benefits  now? 

Positively  Non-Irritating 

ZONITE  positively  contains  no  phenol, 
no  mercury — no  harsh  acids — over- 
strong  solutions  of  which  may  damage 
tissues  and  in  time  even  impair  func- 
tional activity  of  the  mucous  glands. 
You  can  use  zonite  as  directed  as  often 
as  needed  without  the  slightest  risk  of 
injury.  Non-poisonous,  non-irritating. 
zonite  destroys  and  removes  odor- 
causing  waste  substances;  helps  guard 
against  infection.  It  immediately  kills 
every  germ  it  touches.  You  know  it's 
not  always  possible  to  contact  all  the 
germs  in  the  tract.  But  you  can  BE  SURE 
zonite  does  kill  every  reachable  germ 
and  keeps  them  from  multiplying. 


Zomre 


FOR 


HEWER 


AfftCldHC* 


7ce^ 


^s^venue,  New 
H^ME- 
\       ftOORESS- :        ^ ^s^^it. 


WW  ITS  fm 

TO  REDUCE 


This  Common  Sense  Way 


Some  of  the  Subjects  Covered 

Too  Much  Hips  •  Reducing  Abdomen  • 
Reducing  tiie  Breasts  •  Firming  the 
Breasts  •  Fat  Pudgy  Arms  •  Slenderizing 
the  Legs  and  Anltles  •  Correcting  Bow- 
legs •  Slimming  the  Thighs  •  Reducing 
Fat  on  the  Back  •  Develop  Your  Legs  • 
Drooping  Shoulders  •  Keep  That  Perfect 
Figure  •  OfF  with  that  Double  Chin!  • 
Enlarging  a  Receding  Chin  •  Slenderizing 
the  Face  and  Jowls  •  Refining  Your  Nose 
•  Skin  Beauty  Diet  and  Energy  Diet  • 
Beautiful  Hands  and  Feet  •  Acquire  Poise 
and  Grace — Overcome  Nervousness  • 
Advice  for  the  Adolescent — To  Mothers 
— To  Girls  •  The  Woman  Past  Forty. 


There  is  no  magic  about  The  Com- 
mon Sense  Way  to  a  beautiful  figure. 
But  if  you  follow  the  suggestions 
Sylvia  of  Hollywood  has  for  you  in 
her  book  No  More  Alibis  you  may, 
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In  No  More  Alibis  the  author  tells 
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tells  you  how  she  developed  this 
star's  legs — how  she  reduced  that 
star's  waistline — how  she  helped 
another  star  to  achieve  a  beautiful 
youthful  figure. 

Glance  at  the  table  of  contents 
listed  on  this  page.  Notice  how  com- 
pletely and  thoroughly  Sylvia  covers 
every  phase  of  beauty  culture.  And 
bear  in  mind  that  all  of  Sylvia's  in- 
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Bartholome^v  House,  Inc.,  Dept.  RM-549 
205  East  42nd  Street,  New  York  17,  N.  Y. 

Send  me  postpaid  a  copy  of  NO  MORE  ALIBIS  by  Sylvia 
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Address 

City State 


"I  paid  for  that  coat!"  Eddie  ex- 
ploded.    "I  can  prove  it!" 

"Have  you  paid  for  everything  you've 
got  in  life,  Mr.  Markel?"  asked  Ma, 
slipping  out  of  the  coat.  "You  know, 
Starr,  Mr.  Markel's  got  a  police  record. 
And  his  coat  doesn't  have  a  label." 

Eddie  snatched  the  coat  from  her, 
flung  it  down.  "I  never  pretended  to 
be  anything  but  me!"  he  shouted  furi- 
ously. "Sure,  I  grew  up  in  the  streets 
and  took  my  living  off  the  streets — be- 
cause I  had  to!  Well,  I  don't  have  to 
any  more!  I  want  a  nice  home,  a  nice 
wife.  I'm  a  gentleman  now,  and  my 
kids  will  be  gentlemen — because  I'm 
marrying  a  lady!" 

"A  lady,"  said  Ma  reflectively.  "Of 
course,  you've  told  Mr.  Markel  about 
your  father,  Starr." 

"Ma!"  Starr  went  white. 

"In  his  way,"  Ma  went  on,  "Mr.  Mar- 
kel is  being  real  honest  with  you.  He 
don't  pretend.  Have  you  been  just  as 
honest?-  Does  he  know  about  your 
father?" 

"Ma,  please — "  Starr  begged.  Eddie's 
eyes  were  riveted  upon  her  suspiciously. 

"What's  this  about  her  father?"  he 
asked. 

HE  was  a  criminal,"  said  Ma,  "with  a 
long  police  record.  He  was  killed 
in  the  act  of  stealing  money,  right  near 
our  town  of  Rushville  Center.  Of 
course,  at  home  we  all  know  about  it, 
and  love  Starr  just  the  same.  And  if. 
you  really  care  about  her — "  } 

But  it  was  all  over,  and  the  three  of 
them  knew  it.  Eddie  stood  like  a  man 
struck  dumb,  blinking,  moving  his  lips 
soundlessly.  A  criminal's  daughter.  No 
better  than — than  Adele.  No  better 
than  he  himself. 

Ma  prayed  on  her  way  downstairs  to 
Joseph,  prayed  for  forgiveness.  She'd 
been  cruel — deliberately  cruel,  for  per- 
haps the  first  time  in  her  life.  But 
wasn't  it  to  spare  a  greater  cruelty? 

As  she  stepped  out  of  the  elevator, 
Joseph  came  toward  her,  so  much  like 
John  that  her  heart  turned  over.  So 
much  like  her  own  son — she  knew  what 
was  best  for  him.  And  if  she'd  had 
to  be  cruel  to  help  him,  surely  the  good 
Lord  would  forgive  her. 

"It's  all  right,  son,"  she  said.  "She's 
alone,  now,  and  frightened,  and  there's 
no  Eddie  Markel  any  more.  And  I 
think  if  someone  went  to  her  with  his 
heart  in  his  hand — oh,  go  on,  Joseph!" 

Joseph  lost  no  time.  Starr  was  crying 
when  he  entered  her  room. 

"I  tried,"  she  said  in  a  small  lost 
voice.  "I  tried,  and  it  almost  worked. 
But  Ma  wouldn't  let  it.  Oh,  Joseph. 
what's  going  to  become  of  us  now?" 

He  gathered  her  into  his  arms,  shaken 
anew  by  her  slightness.  "You're  going, 
to  get  these  silly  notions  of  not  being 
good  for  me  out  of  your  head.  You're 
going  to —  Oh,  Starr — " 

He  couldn't  go  on  without  kissing 
her.  The  aching  hunger  for  her  rose 
and  choked  him;  he  had  to  have  her 
mouth,  the  touch  of  her  thin,  dearly  re- 
membered hands.  And  Starr,  feeling 
her  lips  warm  under  his  kisses,  feeling 
life  stir  again  within  her,  knew  a  brief 
and  sudden  moment  of  clairvoyance. 
Perhaps  it  wasn't  wrong,  after  all,  to 
have  Joseph  given  back  to  her.  She 
wasn't  enough  for  him;  she  wasn't  good 
enough  for  him — but  he  loved  her, 
wanted  her.  Forget  the  past,  don't 
think  of  the  future;  Joseph  loved  her, 
and  this  much,  this  little  time  in  the 
present,  was  hers.  Think  what's  real 
for  you,  Ma  had  told  her.  And  as  usual 
Ma  had  been  right,  Starr  thought.  Jos- 
eph's love  was  the  only  reality  she  had 
ever  known  or  ever  would  know. 


My  Husband  Is  Ideal 

(Continued  from  page  27) 

our  five-dollar  Uncle  Fud  and  a  lot  of 
hysterical  laughter. 

We  love  to  celebrate.  We  celebrate 
at  every  possible  opportunity.  Excuse 
would  be  the  better  word.  Jack  never 
forgets  an  occasion  or  a  holiday.  He  puts 
great  thought  into  gifts.  Asks  people 
what  I  would  like,  rushes  around  mak- 
ing all  sorts  of  preparations,  usually 
drives  Vivian,  his  secretary,  crazy, 
double  checking  on  everything.  St. 
Patrick's  Day.  Valentine's  Day.  What- 
ever it  is.  Easter,  I  got  a  pair  of  earrings 
I  wanted  very  much.  Fourth  of  July, 
I  got  the  pin  to  go  with  them. 

But  our  anniversary  is  the  big  thing 
in  our  lives.  Then  Jack  really  goes  all 
out.  He  couldn't  very  well  forget  it. 
You  see,  it  also  happens  to  be  the  date 
of  both  our  birthdays.  We're  exactly 
the  same  age.  Jack's  55  minutes  older 
and  because  it  was  so  unusual,  having 
both  birthdays,  the  same  day  we  chose 
that  date  for  our  wedding,  too. 

This  year  Jack  had  a  party  for  us  at 
the  Beverly  Hills  Club,  complete  with 
the  special  reservations,  flowers,  and  a 
sealskin  stole  I'd  been  longing  for.  Then 
he  brought  home  a  magnificent  piece  of 
furniture  that  contained  a  combination 
radio,  television,  and  record  playing 
set-up,  and  informed  me  that  was  my 
gift  to  him! 

Actually,  Jack  and  I  met  because 
of  our  double  birthdays.  My  cousin 
went  to  Hollywood  High  School,  where 
Jack  went  too,  and  she  told  me  about 
the  new  boy  she  was  going  with,  whose 
birthday  was  the  same  as  mine.  She 
wanted  me  to  meet  him,  and  asked 
him  to  my  fifteenth  birthday  party. 
This  was  a  big  mistake  on  her  part, 
because  Jack  and  I  hit  it  off  right  from 
the  first.  They  soon  broke  up  and  Jack 
and  I  began  going  together. 

He  started  to  work  that  next  year — 
left  high  school  to  go  to  work.  It  was 
a  big  thing.  He  and  two  other  boys 
had  been  singing  in  the  high  school 
assemblies.  More  or  less  on  a  dare, 
they  tried  for  a  job  in  the  Coconut 
Grove  at  the  Ambassador  Hotel.  And 
they  got  it!  Jack  had  two  years  of 
school  to  finish,  so  he  went  to  school 
during  the  day  and  worked  at  night. 
But  he  still  had  a  half,  year  left  when 
he  went  East  with  the  trio. 

IT  was  Phil  Harris  who  took  the  three 
boys  East  with  him.  While  there, 
Kate  Smith  asked  Jack  to  join  her  show. 
In  the  meantime  Jack  was  able  to  see 
me  only  during  the  summer  vacations. 
When  Jack  was  nineteen  (which  is 
four  years  after  we  met)  he  came  West 
during  the  summer  vacation  and  pro- 
posed to  me.  I  accepted  and  we  made 
plans  for  the  marriage  on  our  mutual 
birthdays.  At  the  end  of  this  summer. 
Jack  returned  East  to  resume  with 
the  Kate  Smith  show — alone.  That 
fall  I  went  East  for  the  first  time  in 
my   life — to   become   a   bride. 

Jack  and  his  brother,  Walter  Reed, 
met  me  at  the  station  when  the  train 
pulled  into  New  York.  We  were  all 
so  shy  and  young  and  bashful  that 
when  I  got  off  the  train  I  kissed  Walter 
and  shook  hands  with  Jack! 

However,  it  didn't  take  long  for  me 
to  get  over  my  shyness — and  so  we 
were   married. 

Anyway,  back  to  Jack's  schooling. 
Although  he'd  only  attended  school  for 
three  and  a  half  years,  technically 
he  had  enough  credits  to  get  his 
diploma.     So,  this  last  year  in  1947  on 


r    .■■"■<  \ 


It's  sheer  flattery  the  way  Realcraft's 
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"homecoming  day"  at  Hollywood  High 
School  the  officials  invited  him  over 
and  made  a  big  ceremony  of  presenting 
him  with  that  long  missing  document. 

While  we  were  back  east  we  began  to 
develop  a  hobby  that  both  of  us  are 
mad  about — collecting  antiques.  We 
had  wonderful  weekends,  poking  into 
little  old  shops  or  homes  or  barns  up 
through  New  England,  finding  all  sorts 
of  treasures.  Jack  started  our  milk 
glass  collection  long  before  it  was  a 
fad.  We  have  some  wonderful  things. 
And  it's  far  more  fun  for  me  to  collect, 
when  Jack  enjoys  it  so  much,  too. 

So  many  men  don't  really  care  any- 
thing about  how  a  home  looks.  Jack  is 
as  interested  as  I  in  getting  the  right 
lamp,  the  right  table,  the  proper  chair. 
We  have  all  our  own  furniture  in  our 
home  here  in  Hollywood. 

THE  house  we  now  have  was  the  first 
place  we  looked  at.  We  liked  it  imme- 
diately, but  looked  around  a  lot  just 
on  principle  before  we  gave  in  and 
came  back  to  it.  We  haven't  been 
sorry.  It's  an  English-type  place,  dark 
wood  and  brick  outside,  and  we  both 
knew  our  early  American  furniture 
would  fit  into  the  pattern.  The  rooms 
are  large,  and  our  furniture,  which 
is  massive,  requires  large  rooms.  It  is 
a  two-story  house  high  on  a  hill  over- 
looking Hollywood.  A  friend  of  ours 
always  says,  panting  as  he  finally  gains 
the  front  door,  "A  couple  of  hundred 
feet  higher,  and  you'd  have  edelweiss 
growing  in  the  garden!" 

Actually,  it's  a  bigger  house  than 
we'd  ever  want  to  buy.  It's  eight  rooms, 
and  since  I  do  all  the  housework  I 
don't  fancy  any  such  chore  as  a  per- 
manent thing.  I  have  a  girl  come  in 
only  once  a  week,  on  Thursday,  to  do 
a  thorough  cleaning  job.  I  do  all  the 
cooking,  and  if  we  have  a  dinner  party, 
I  get  the  dinner  and  the  girl  comes  in 
to  serve  it.  Fortunately  I  love  house- 
work and  cooking. 

Another  thing  about  Jack,  he's  enor- 
mously easy  to  cook  for.  When  we 
first  married,  he  was  used  to  a  steady 
diet  of  steak,  peas,  mashed  potatoes, 
and  apple  pie.  I'm  sure  he  ploughed 
through  that  uninspired  menu  three 
times  a  day  as  a  bachelor.  No  imagina- 
tion in  the  food  department.  I  love 
highly  seasoned  food,  Mexican,  Chinese, 
French — all  those  things. 

So,  slowly,  I  began  to  educate  Jack. 
Here,  his  wonderful  quality  of  adap- 
tability came  in.  He  started  loving 
everything  I  fixed,  and  it  was  fun  to 
teach  him  to  like  new  things.  His 
mother  came  over  for  dinner  one  night 
and  suddenly  shrieked,  "Heavens!  Jack 
is  eating  shrimp!"  I  assured  her  he 
wasn't  hysterical — that  he  really  liked 
them  now.  He  still  balks  at  one  thing: 
he  will  not  eat  an  olive.  And  we 
have  a  beautiful  California  lot  with 
forty  olive  trees  on  it! 

We  have  had  a  lot  of  fun  decorating 
this  house  together.  As  I  said,  we 
have  all  our  own  furniture,  all  an- 
tiques except  for  the  mammoth  radio- 
television  piece,  and  one  large  coffee 
table  which  fits  in  well  with  the  early 
American  authentics,  even  though  it's 
not  old. 

We  carried  out  a  green  and  white 
idea,  with  dark  woods  as  background. 
The  whole  place  has  a  sort  of  fresh 
feeling,  we  think,  and  the  contrast  is 
good.  We  like  a  lot  of  growing  things 
around,  too,  and  have  some  wonderful 
containers  for  our  vines  and  plants. 
One  of  our  favorites  is  a  small  iron 
stove,  painted  white,  which  we  keep 
in  the  hall,  with  vines  growing  out  of 
its   door. 


A  couple  of  other  favorite  pieces  of 
mine  are  the  berry-picker  Jack  found 
in  Connecticut,  which  we  use  for  a 
magazine  container,  and  our  wonderful 
Lazy  Susan  dining-room  table.  One  of 
Jack's  favorites  is  a  broom-maker's 
bench  which  he  unearthed  somewhere. 
It's  in  the  den  now.  There's  a  story 
behind  that  bench. 

Jack  is  very  handy  around  the  house, 
good  at  refinishing  furniture,  and  does 
a  lot  of  it  as  a  hobby.  However,  this 
was  quite  a  task,  and  required  a  special 
Sander.  The  man  he  got  it  from  offered 
to  do  the  job  for  $18.  Jack  said,  "I'll 
do  it  myself,  save  the  $18,  and  have 
fun,  too!"  So  he  brought  it  home.  First 
(in  a  spirit  of  thrift)  he  bought  a 
sander— $38.50.  Then,  all  the  dust  and 
stuff  from  the  work  got  up  his  nose. 
He  couldn't  sing,  he  was  off  the  air 
for  three  days,  and  the  doctor  sent 
him  a  final  bill  for  $65.  Now  he  uses 
a  little  mask  when  he  does  that  kind 
of  work. 

Jack  not  only  helps  around  the  house 
in  repairing  things  and  fixing  the  fur- 
niture, but,  praise  be,  he  even  helps 
me  dry  the  dishes.  One  thing  he  won't 
learn  to  do,  and  that  is  to  cook.  But 
I'm  just  as  happy,  because  I  like  to  pre- 
side   over    the    kitchen. 

Currently,  Jack's  project  is  building 
a  fence  to  keep  in  Buff,  our  cocker 
spaniel.  He's  doing  a  very  good  job, 
too.  I'm  impressed.  He  has  something 
that  is  called  a  post  hole-digger,  with 
which  he  digs  big  holes  for  the  fence 
posts.  As  for  me,  I  got  talked  into 
painting  part  of  the  fence.  I  painted 
a  whole  day  and  finally  gave  out.  It's 
an  awful  lot  of  trouble  to  paint  a 
picket  fence — it  dawns  on  you  after 
a  while  that  there  are  four  sides  on 
every   picket! 

Another  thing  that  makes  Jack  won- 
derful is  that  he  gets  along  so  well 
with  my  mother.  And  he,  too,  is  blessed 
with  a  likable  family.  My  mother  lives 
with  us,  and  if  an  argument  ever  does 
come  up  between  Jack  and  me,  and 
mother  gets  roped  into  it  (which  is 
seldom),  it's  ten  to  one  she'll  side  with 
him. 

We  both  love  to  travel,  and  summer 
before  last,  we  took  a  long  trip  with 
both  our  mothers  along.  We  drove  for 
four  weeks  to  a  lot  of  places  we'd  both 
always  wanted  to  see — Banff,  Lake 
Louise,  a  lot  of  wonderful  spots.  We 
plan  to  make  a  trip  to  Europe  as  soon 
as  we  can  find  the  time,  maybe  this 
summer.  We  went  to  Hawaii  last  sum- 
mer, and  we  have  been  to  South 
America,  too. 

JACK  keeps  up  our  picture  albums. 
We  take  lots  of  pictures,  but  he  keeps 
them  in  perfect  order,  with  dates  and 
places  carefully  noted.  We  had  a 
tragedy  in  this  department  on  our  South 
American  trip.  Our  camera  was  stolen, 
we  were  unable  to  get  another  in  Ar- 
gentina, and  wound  up  with  only  a  few 
pictures   of  Rio   de   Janeiro. 

Jack  has  seven  weeks  free  every 
summer,  which  gives  us  a  chance  to 
be  together.  Too,  he  is  careful  to  make 
no  commitments  on  weekends.  I  know 
he's  one  of  the  most  conscientious  work- 
ers in  all  of  radio,  and  his  week  is  so 
tied  up,  that  he  feels  we  should  have 
our  entire  weekend  for  each  other. 

The  French  doors  from  our  living 
room  open  out  into  a  small  garden, 
in  which  we  both  love  to  work.  It's, 
very  small,  but  just  what  we  want. 
I'd  never  done  any  gardening  before, 
but  I  was  anxious  to  try  my  hand  at  it. 
I  put  a  lot  of  chemical  fertilizer  in  the 
holes  under  some  bulbs  I  planted. 
Everyone     said     dire     things — that     it 


. 


would  burn  them  up,  that  they'd  be 
rotted,  that  nary  a  bulb  would  see  the 
light.  Now  I'm  triumphant.  They're 
all   coming   up   anyway! 

Jack  is  the  neatest  man  ever  made. 
He  could  go  into  his  room  in  the  dark- 
est night  and  find  any  single  thing  he 
owns.  He  has  a  place  for  everything, 
and  everything  in  its  place.  I'm  the 
exact  opposite,  but  he  never  complains 
about  my  practice  of  hanging  things 
on  the  floor.  He  once  tried  to  show  me 
how  to  fix  my  things,  straightened 
them  all  out — and  every  time,  for  weeks 
afterwards,  when  I  wanted  anything, 
I  had  to  yell  for  him.  It  took  me  three 
months  to  mess  them  up  again  prop- 
erly  so   I   could   find   them. 

Jack  seems  to  like  doing  things  that 
most  men  wouldn't  stand  still  for.  For 
instance,  I  make  all  my  own  clothes, 
and  I  have  one  of  those  bulbs  for  hem 
marking.  He'll  always  help  me,  when 
I'm  making  something  new,  and  marks 
all  my  hems. 

Both  of  us  seem  to  like  the  same 
kind  of  people  and  the  same  kind  of 
life.  Neither  of  us  smokes  and  as  for 
drinking — a  little  wine  with  dinner 
sometimes.  This  bowled  my  father  over 
when  he  first  met  Jack.  It  was  a  sell- 
ing point,  despite  the  fact  Dad  didn't 
warm  up  to  the  idea  of  my  marrying 
"an  entertainer."  Now  Dad  is  one  of 
Jack's   greatest   fans. 

I  THINK  one  of  the  qualities  that  I 
find  most  endearing  in  Jack  is  his 
thoughtfulness.  I  suppose  when  you 
get  right  down  to  it,  essentially,  it  is 
kindness.  For  instance,  there  were 
four  little  girls,  fans  of  Jack's  who  came 
to  his  show  every  night  in  New  York. 
They  sat  in  the  front  row  at  the  studio. 
Finally,  Jack  had  their  seats  reserved 
for  them  each  night.  Terribly  faithful 
fans.  Even  now,  they  call  us  up  long 
distance.  And  on  our  birthday,  know- 
ing how  we  loved  it,  they  sent  us 
a  huge  cheese  cake  from  Reubens.  Jack 
had  some  mention  of  it  written  into  the 
lyrics  of  one  of  his  songs  that  night. 

But  before  we  left  New  York,  he 
wanted  to  show  the  girls  his  gratitude 
for  their  faithfulness.  He  planned  a 
surprise  for  them.  The  only  thing  he 
would  tell  them  was  that  they  should 
dress  up  on  a  certain  night.  They 
showed  up  all  washed  and  polished  and 
radiant.  He  knew  they  wouldn't  want 
to  go  on  a  party  in  regular  street  clothes, 
so  he  had  to  risk  giving  away  the 
surprise   by   warning   them. 

And  what  a  party  it  was!  He  had 
reservations  for  them  at  the  Barberry 
Room,  gave  them  gardenias,  took  them 
there  and  had  a  wonderful  feast  for 
them,  winding  up  with  Baked  Alaska. 
The  kids  were  in  seventh  heaven! 

He's  always  been  the  ideal  husband 
and  now,  after  twelve  years  of  being 
married  to  Jack,  we  have  more  fun 
than  ever  together.  It's  been  such  a 
wonderful  life!  And  it  seems  as  if  every 
day  I  discover  new  reasons  to  make 
me  know  that  my  husband  is  ideal! 


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GARDENIA  -APPLE  BLOSSOM  -LAVENDER  -WHISPERING  PINE 


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Mail  me,  postpaid,  Tublets  checked. 

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Prices  include  Fed.  Tax 

boxes  60  Tublets  @  $3.42  [] 

boxes  40  Tublets  @  $2.40  Q 

boxes  20  Tublets  @  $  1 .20  Q 


1427  Randolph  St.,  Detroit  26,  Mich. 


ADDRESS, 


CITY_ 


_ZONE_ 


_STATE_ 


• 
60  TUBLETS  — $2.85 
40  TUBLETS  — $2.00 
20  TUBLETS  — $1.00 

Plus  Federal  Tax 


IF  THEY  ARE   NOT   SCHRATZ  TUBLETS-THEY   ARE   NOT   GENUINE 


Sizes: 

JUNIOR 

?-11-13 

15-17 

REGULAR 

10-12-14 

16-18-20 

LARGE 

38-40-42 

44-46-48 

10  DAY 
TRIAL 

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That  Day  Girl 

(Continued   from   page    55) 

and  got  it  back  just  west  of  Kansas 
City.   By  that  time  I  didn't  want  it. 

That  is  when  I  first  found  out  how 
sympathetic  and  kind  Doris  is. 

"What  are  you  doing  down  there 
under  the  seat?"  she  asked. 

"Lying  down  with  a  sick  friend,"  I 
said. 

"Goodness,"  she  said.   "Who?" 

"Me,"  I  said. 

"Oh,  good,"  she  said.  "Then  if  you're 
taking  care  of  Bob,  I  think  I'll  just  take 
a  nap." 

We  were  coming  in  under  a  ceiling 
so  low  all  the  clouds  were  wearing 
shoes,  but  that  didn't  bother  her.  I  had 
taught  her  how  to  make  every  minute 
count  in  the  air.  For  instance,  on  the 
way  east  I  read  a  book — on  the  way 
back  west  I  read  the  second  page. 

On  this  tour,  everybody  from  the 
Tuesday  broadcast  was  along;  Les 
Brown  and  his  band;  our  announcer  Hy 
Averback;  Billy  Farrell,  Jack  Kirkwood 
and  the  two  that  everybody  looked  at — 
Irene  Ryan  and  Doris  Day. 

EVERYWHERE  we  went,  I  got  a  rous- 
ing response. 

"Off,  boy,  OFF!  Get  away!  Fade! 
OFF!!"  rang  from  the  rafters  every 
time  Doris  and  I  made  our  first  appear- 
ance together.  The  applause  was  deaf- 
ening. The  only  way  I  could  control 
my  fans  was  by  withdrawing.  That 
calmed  them. 

What  I  like  about  Doris  is  she  did  not 
mind  all  of  that  attention  going  to  me. 
She  just  stayed  out  there  all  alone  by 
the  mike  and  gave  the  customers  a 
show — a  real  trouper. 

Seriously,  she  is  just  that  in  every 
best  sense  of  the  word.  She  is  on  the  up 
and  zooming  in  one  of  the  fastest- 
moving  careers  I  have  ever  seen.  When 
I  say  "fastest-moving,"  I  can  think  of 
only  one  comparison — but  she  is  mov- 
ing even  faster  than  the  vegetables  did 
the  night  Les  Brown  and  his  band  came 
to  my  house  to  dinner. 

Doris  has  hit  the  jackpot  in  every- 
thing she  has  touched  in  the  last  year, 
but  she  hasn't  let  success  go  to  her  head. 
That  cute  little  noggin  is  on  straight 
and  she  still  wears  the  same  size  hat. 

Let  me  tell  you  a  little  about  the  gal 
in  case  you  haven't  seen  her  first  movie, 
"Romance  on  the  High  Seas."  She  is 
just  as  cute  looking  off  the  screen  as  on. 
Maybe  cuter,  because  she  has  a  lot  of 
freckles  and  she  doesn't  care  who  knows 
it.  She  doesn't  wear  any  make-up  ex- 
cept lipstick  and  freckles,  and  she's  the 
girl  to  get  away  with  it.  She  has  one 
of  those  shiny  kissers  that  always  looks 
as  if  it's  just  been  scrubbed.  She's  a 
blonde  with  big  blue  eyes.  She's  sopie- 
thing  like  Ginger  Rogers  with  freckles 
and  Ingrid  Bergman  with  song. 

Doris  hits  a  good  middle  road.  Whole- 
some. Nice.  And  wised  up,  too.  There 
is  enough  country  in  her  so  you  know 
she's  solid.  But  she  also  has  plenty  of 
hep  for  the  cats. 

She  is  full  of  bounce  and  pep  and 
zing.  She  is  always  on  the  go — even 
when  the  customers  aren't  chasing  her. 
And  she  has  a  great  sense  of  humor. 
She  thinks  I'm  funny. 

She's  quick-witted  and  bright.  When 
you're  working  in  front  of  an  audience, 
you  have  to  be  prepared  for  emergen- 
cies. They  are  forever  shouting  ques- 
tions like  "Where's  Bing?"  I  have  never 
seen  her  get  in  the  least  flustered  at 
a  time  like  that.  She  leaves  all  that  to 
me. 


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She  is  a  great  meat  and  potatoes  girl. 
Her  idea  of  a  party  is  two  orders  of 
steak.  But  she  keeps  that  five  foot,  five 
and  three-quarters  inches  shape  down 
to  a  neat  120  pounds  by  getting  plenty 
of  exercise.  She  doesn't  play  golf,  so 
I'm  teaching  her  by  letting  her  carry 
my  golf  bag. 

When  she  was  born  in  Cincinnati 
twenty-four  years  ago,  they  christened 
her  Doris  Kappelhoff.  The  dawn  of  a 
new  Day  came  when  she  was  seventeen. 
She  got  her  first  professional  engage- 
ment singing  with  Barney  Rapp's  band 
in  her  home  town.  He  thought  Kappel- 
hoff was  not  the  ideal  tag  for  a  song- 
stress. "Choose  something  else,"  he  said. 

Her  first  number  was  "Night  and 
Day,"  so  she  picked  "Day"  for  good 
luck.  What  a  break  she  wasn't  singing 
"Mairsy  Doats." 

The  luck  was  terrific,  as  it  should  be, 
to  match  the  girl.  She  moved  on  to 
Bob  Crosby's  band  and  then  toured 
with  Les  Brown  (that's  our  band  now) 
as  featured  soloist.  His  tour  brought 
her  to  Hollywood  where  she  set  the 
town  on  its  ear.  First  she  cut  some 
records  that  went  like  good  hotcakes. 
Her  version  of  "It's  Magic"  has  sold 
over  a  million  copies. 

Then  Michael  Curtiz  gave  her  a 
screen  test,  put  her  under  contract  and 
right  to  work  in  the  top  spot  opposite 
Jack  Carson  in  a  movie  that  already 
has  had  enough  plugs  from  me.  After 
all,  there  is  a  film  called  "The  Paleface" 
around,  too,  you  know,  in  case  you're 
going  to  only  one  movie  this  week. 

There  is  nothing  high-hat  about 
Doris  in  spite  of  her  big  success.  She 
really  likes  people — all  kinds  of  people 
— and  she  gets  along  beautifully  with 
two  completely  different  kinds:  men 
and  women.  This  fascinates  me,  be- 
cause, hard  as  I  try,  I  never  get  any- 
where with  women.  But  Doris  knows 
how  to  get  cozy  with  everybody  from 
elevator  operators  to  governors.  One 
smile  and  the  men  want  to  kiss  her. 
This  never  happens  to  me.  And  women 
call  her  "honey."  This  never  happens 
to  me  either. 

Seiriously,  the  reason  she  gets  along 
with  everyone  is  because  she  has  lots 
of  heart,  lots  of  imagination  and  sym- 
pathy and  humor  as  well  as  lots  of 
voice,  and  because  she  knows  what 
trouble  is. 

YOU  know,  she  wanted  to  be  a  dancer, 
and  she  was  good  enough  by  the  time 
she  was  twelve  to  get  a  job  with  a 
Fanchon  and  Marco  unit.  She  was 
really  on  her  way  when  she  had  a 
tough  break.  She  was  in  an  automobile 
accident  and  one  of  her  legs  was  broken. 
She  had  to  wear  a  cast  for  a  year. 

No  fooling,  breaking  that  leg  nearly 
broke  the  kid's  heart,  too.  But  it  was 
a  lucky  break  for  everyone  else.  To 
amuse  herself,  she  started  to  study 
singing.  Her  father  was  a  concert  artist 
and  music  teacher,  so  she  had  a  good 
start,  as  well  as  the  courage  to  begin 
an  entirely  new  career  when  she  was 
an  old  lady  of  seventeen. 

Today  she  can  dance  as  well  as  ever, 
but  there  is  something  about  that 
voice  that  gets  you  even  more.  After 
her  first  number  on  the  broadcast, 
the  whole  band  stood  up  and  said 
"Rrrrrrouffffff"  and  we've  been  hear- 
ing that  same  noise  all  over  the  coun- 
try from  audiences — but  I'm  used  to  it 
after  all  of  those  years  of  fighting 
audiences  for  some  attention  against 
Frances  Langford. 

All  I  can  say  is,  if  somebody  has  to 
take  second  place,  it  couldn't  happen 
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That  Hope  Fellow 

(Continued  jrom  page   55) 

When  you  get  to  know  him  a  little 
better,  you  realize  that  there  is  a  great 
deal  of  seriousness  behind  that  wall  of 
clowning  and  gags  and  fun.  Then  you 
begin  to  notice  that  quite  a  lot  of  that 
seriousness  comes  through  in  his  jokes. 

For  instance,  he  was  cracking  about 
politics  and  world  affairs  after  the  in- 
auguration, and  he  started  with  "It  be- 
gins to  look  as  if  a  Republican  will  have 
to  marry  Margaret  to  get  into  the  White 
House,"  and  then  he  went  on,  "But 
things  are  moving  so  fast  in  this  atomic 
age,  who  can  plan?  Wouldn't  it  be  aw- 
ful for  the  Republicans  if  they  finally 
got  in  just  as  the  world  went  out?" 

Everybody  was  making  Democrat- 
and-Republican  jokes  at  that  time,  and 
the  Republicans  laughed  as  hard  as  the 
Democrats,  but  I  was  beginning  to 
watch  the  way  he  builds  his  jokes,  and 
the  thing  I  noticed  was  that  he  had 
added,  in  a  funny  way,  the  thing  that 
everybody  has  in  the  back  of  their 
heads  .  .  .  that  we  live  in  a  pretty  seri- 
ous time.  I  think  that  is  one  of  the  rea- 
sons audiences  are  so  crazy  about  him 
— he  says  things  that  everybody  is 
thinking  in  a  way  that  you  can  remem- 
ber. 

ONE  of  the  reasons  he  is  so  funny  is 
that  he  takes  his  jokes  very  seriously. 
When  he  gets  a  new  idea,  he  tries  it  out 
on  everybody  who  calls  up,  sometimes 
as  many  as  fifteen  people  right  in  a 
row.  Sometimes  he  will  work  for  an 
hour  on  just  one  word.  Nearly  all  of 
his  gags  are  no  more  than  about  three 
sentences  long,  so  every  word  counts. 

He  is  a  demon  for  energy.  He  left 
Hollywood  in  the  middle  of  December, 
flew  to  Germany,  did  twenty  shows  in 
eight  days  for  our  men  in  the  Air  Lift, 
flew  back,  had  two  days  in  Hollywood, 
then  started  right  off  on  one  night 
stands. 

When  you  first  hear  about  it,  it 
sounds  like  a  fairly  easy  life,  flying 
from  one  place  to  another  and  doing 
only  two  and  a  half  hours'  work  every 
night.  But  that  is  just  the  beginning. 
In  the  first  place,  there  are  special  gags 
to  be  written  and  rehearsed  and  added 
to  the  show  for  each  city.  Everybody 
plans  luncheons  and  parties  in  his  hon- 
or. Everywhere  there  are  interviews. 
There  were  at  least  a  dozen  March  of 
Dimes  broadcasts,  in  addition  to  the 
Tuesday  network  show,  and  I  don't 
know  how  many  times  Bob  slipped  off 
for  a  personal  appearance  at  a  hospital 
for  crippled  children  or  for  veterans. 

He  can't  say  no  when  service  men 
ask  for  him.  For  instance,  on  the  way 
back  from  Germany  he  was  told  that 
a  thousand  men  stationed  in  the  Azores 
had  signed  a  petition  asking  him  to 
stop  and  do  a  show  for  them.  Bob  was 
good  and  tired  from  piling  up  one  show 
on  top  of  the  others  all  the  time  he  was 
in  Germany — one  day  he  did  five! — but 
when  he  heard  about  those  boys  out 
there  on  that  green  rock  in  the  Atlantic 
Ocean  waiting  for  him,  he  said,  "If  they 
can  take  it,  I  can.-" 

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One  Soldier  in  Grease  Paint." 

You  never  hear  anything  like  that 
from  him.  You  learn  about  those  things 
from  the  people  who  work  with  him. 
Most  of  the  people  on  his  staff  have 
been  with  him  for  years.  Charlie 
Cooley,  for  instance,  staked  him  to  a 
meal  and  a  job  when  both  of  them  were 
in  vaudeville  and  Bob  was  broke,  and 
Bob  has  never  forgotten.  Charlie  is  one 
of  the  most  important  men  in  his  or- 
ganization. Jimmy  Saphier  got  Bob  his 
first  radio  date,  and  still  handles  all  of 
his  radio  affairs.  Charlie  Yates  booked 
his  first  vaudeville  date  and  still  han- 
dles his  stage  engagements. 

Bob's  memory  is  just  as  long  as  his 
loyalty.  All  over  the  country,  people 
would  stop  him  and  say,  "You  wouldn't 
remember  me,  but  we  met.  .  .  ." 

Bob  would  remember  though.  Always 
he  remembered  the  first  name  and 
often  the  last!  He  gets  on  a  chummy, 
first-name  basis  with  nearly  everybody 
right  away.  I  asked  him  once  how  he 
could  remember,  after  five  or  six  years, 
all  of  those  thousands  and  thousands  of 
people  that  he  had  met,  and  he  said, 
"He  was  a  great  guy.  I  liked  him,  so  of 
course  I  remembered  him." 

Bob  never  gets  flurried.  He  just  takes 
one  thing  at  a  time.  He  does  it  very 
easily,  but  somehow  he  fixes  it  so  that 
everyone  gets  full  attention  without 
interruption  from  anyone  else. 

The  best  way  I  can  describe  how  he 
does  this  is  to  say  that  he  sort  of  de- 
partmentalizes himself,  and  that  is  how 
he  gets  through  all  of  the  things  he 
does — movies,  radio  show,  benefit  per- 
formances, interviews,  his  books,  his 
syndicated  column,  the  Cleveland  In- 
dians and  personal  appearances,  not  to 
mention  golf. 

He  has  more  than  two  hundred  peo- 
ple involved  in  his  various  interests, 
and  still  shoots  in  the  low  seventies. 

He  usually  travels  in  flannel  slacks 
and  a  sports  jacket,  so  he  will  be  ready 
to  grab  off  nine  holes  if  he  gets  a 
chance.  Close  to  show  time,  you  begin 
to  think  that  he  isn't  going  to  have  time 
to  change  and  that  this  is  one  time  when 
he  will  have  to  rush,  but  he  always 
fools  you  and  strolls  out  in  an  immacu- 
late blue  suit,  chewing  gum  and  giving 
the  eye  to  the  girls  in  the  audience. 

HE  talks  plenty  of  wolf  in  public,  but 
when  he  is  alone  with  the  cast  what 
you  hear  is  the  latest  about  his  wife, 
Dolores,  and  the  kids.  He  calls  them 
up  every  evening  when  he  is  away,  just 
before  the  kids'  bedtime,  and  I  hate  to 
think  what  the  phone  bills  must  be  be- 
cause he  has  to  hear  all  about  an  eight- 
foot  putt  that  Tony  sunk  that  after- 
noon, advise  Linda  about  an  ailing  doll 
and  discuss  their  affairs  with  Kelly  and 
Norah.  Every  Tuesday  night  after  the 
network  broadcast,  he  calls  Dolores  to 
find  out  how  it  went.  Her  opinion  is 
the  one  to  which  he  pays  most  atten- 
tion. 

Just  about  the  best  part  of  the  trip 
was  hearing  him  tell  stories  about  his 
early  days  in  vaudeville  when  he  was 
making  twenty-five  dollars  every  other 
week.  He  had  a  really  tough  time  get- 
ting started,  but  he  even  makes  a  gag 
about  that.  He  says,  "I  ate  hamburgers 
so  long  that  when  I  got  to  Hollywood 
and  somebody  gave  me  a  steak,  I  didn't 
know  how  to  cut  it." 

If  you  try  to  thank  him  for  some- 
thing, he  makes  a  gag,  or  laughs  it  off, 
or  stops  you.  So  I  am  glad  that  Radio 
Mirror  has  given  me  this  chance  to  say 
"Thanks  for  the  memory.  Bob,  and  for 
all  of  the  kind  things  you  do  for  every- 
one all  the  time." 


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When  a  Girl  Marries 

(Continued  from  page   45) 

again?  And  how  could  you  be  sure  that 
you'd  hke  the  new  place  any  better, 
or  that  the  people  there  would  be  any 
friendlier?  By  and  large,  people  are 
basically  pretty  much  alike,  wherever 
they  live.  Women,  in  particular,  like 
to  reserve  judgment,  not  give  their 
friendship  too  easily.  And  again,  most 
people  are  fairly  shy — just  as  you  seem 
to  be.  So  bide  your  time,  do  your  best, 
make  a  real,  honest  effort! 

Joan    Davis 

GOOD  NEIGHBOR  POLICY 

Dear   Joan   Davis: 

My  neighbor's  granddaughter,  aged 
four,  and  my  daughter,  aged  three,  are 
constant  companions.  Lately,  I've  no- 
ticed that  my  child  is  impudent  and 
uses  profane  language,  which  she  at- 
tributes to  the  other  child.  My  husband 
feels  I  should  not  allow  her  to  associate 
with  the  child  next  door,  although  she 
has  no  other  playmate. 

If  I  do  bring  an  end  to  their  friend- 
ship, how  will  I  explain  to  the  grand- 
parents, whom  I  like,  and  who  drive 
us  to  church  each  Sunday?  Or,  is  the 
need  of  companionship  so  important 
that  I  should  overlook  the  bad  language 
my  child  is  acquiring? 

Undecided 

Dear  Undecided: 

I  think  there  is  a  middle  course  open 
to  you.  Certainly  I  don't  think  that  you 
should  deny  your  daughter  the  com- 
panionship of  her  only  playmate — and 
I  don't  quite  see  how,  short  of  locking 
her  up,  you  could  manage  it  anyway! 
Nor  do  I  think  you  need  go  to  the  other 
extreme   of   ignoring   the   problem. 

Apparently  you  are  quite  friendly 
with  the  grandmother  next  door.  Why 
not,  then,  make  the  problem  a  mutual 
one,  to  be  solved  together  by  both  of 
you?  I  think  you  can  go  to  the  grand- 
mother and  in  the  friendliest  possible 
way  say  that  you've  noticed  that  both 
your  daughter  and  her  granddaughter 
seem  to  have  picked  up  a  bad  habit, 
and  ask  her  advice  and  assistance,  tak- 
ing it  for  granted  that  she  will  want  to 
solve  the  problem  just  as  much  as  you 
do. 

Joan   Davis 

MORE  THAN  ONE  ANSWER 

Dear  Joan  Davis: 

I  was  an  illegitimate  baby,  and 
adopted  when  I  was  ten  months  old. 
My  parents  have  been  dead  for  several 
years  and  I  have  been  married  six 
years.  My  husband  is  a  very  nice  per- 
son,  and  we  have  three  children. 

Joan,  do  you  believe  it  wrong  to  try 
to  find  my  own  mother?  I  have  enough 
information  to  get  started — but  should 
I?  I  know  she  visited  me  when  I  was 
ten.  My  adopted  mother,  of  course  didn't 
approve.  My  own  mother  must  have 
crossed  her  bridge  and  burned  it — 
otherwise,  why  didn't  she  make  herself 
known  to  me  when  I  was  twenty-one? 
(I  will  be  twenty-three  next  week.)  I 
want  to  find  her  ever  so  much,  but 
should  I? 

Alice  B. 

Dear  Ahce   B.: 

I  think  that  the  answer  lies  in  your 
own  mind  and  your  own  heart.  How- 
ever, I  know  that  that's  very  easy  for 
me  to  say,  so  let  me  see  if  I  can't  help 
you  to  search  your  mind  and  your  heart 
for  the  answer. 

You    say    that    you're    twenty-three. 


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But  how  old  are  you  really?  Old  enough 
to  face  possible  grief  or  embarrassment 
or  shock?  To  take  on  added  financial 
burdens?  To  risk  a  certain  amount  of 
trouble  or  hardship?  To  risk  possible 
disagreements  with  your  husband? 

If,  in  wishing  to  locate  your  mother, 
the  only  thought  in  your  mind  is  one 
of  a  pleasant,  joyous  reunion,  then  my 
advice  to  you  is  not  to  make  the  attempt 
to  find  her.  However,  I  can  easily  real- 
ize how  you  must  feel,  and  how  you 
will  always  feel,  too,  if  you  don't  try 
to  find  her.  And  so,  if  you  can  bring 
yourself — and  your  husband,  for  his 
wishes  are  important  in  this  matter, 
too — to  face  the  fact  that  finding  your 
mother  may  not  be  a  matter  for  a  touch- 
ing reunion  scene,  then  I  think  it  would 
be  safe  for  you  to  go  ahead.  But  it  is, 
you  see,  a  matter  which  no  one  can 
decide  for  you — you  must  make  your 
own  decision,  and  be  prepared  to  abide 
by  it. 

Joan  Davis 

THREE'S  A  CROWD 

Dear   Joan   Davis: 

I  have  a  big  problem — to  me,  any- 
way. My  sister  has  been  with  us  almost 
since  we  were  married.  We  have  never 
been  alone,  and  my  husband  doesn't 
think  this  is  right.    He  is  very  unhappy. 

My  sister  fusses  at  my  children,  and 
my  husband  doesn't  like  this  at  all.  But 
my  problem  is,  how  am  I  going  to  get 
her  to  move  without  hurting  her  feel- 
ings? She  is  a  widow  with  a  small  child, 
and  I  care  for  the  child  while  she 
works.  I  love  to  make  everyone  happy, 
but  I  think  my  first  consideration  is 
that  of  my  husband,  don't  you? 

Ella  M. 

Dear  Ella  M.: 

It's  very  nice  to  want  to  make  every- 
one happy,  but  it  seldom  works  out,  in 
this  world,  that  a  person  is  able  to. 
So  you  have  to  make  a  choice,  ask  your- 
self which,  of  the  people  you  could 
make  happy,  is  most  important  to 
you.  In  this  case,  I'm  sure  you'll  an- 
swer that  your  husband  is — in  fact, 
you  know  that  already,  as  can  be  told 
from  the  last  sentence  of  your  letter. 

It  would  be  nice  if  some  arrangement 
could  be  made  so  that  you  could  con- 
tinue if  you  wish  to,  to  care  for  your 
sister's  child  while  she  works — that  is, 
if  living  quarters  for  her  and  the  child 
can  be  found  somewhere  in  your  neigh- 
borhood. But  if  this  isn't  possible,  I 
still  think  you  must  ask  her  to  move. 
Once  again  I  can  repeat  the  old  truism — 
there's  not  room  for  more  than  one 
familjr  in  one  house!  It's  up  to  vour 
sister  to  make  a  life  of  her  own  for  her- 
self and  her  child,  and  up  to  you  to  see 
that  your  home  life,  with  your  husband 
and    your    children,    isn't    jeopardized. 

Joan  Davis 

THIS   IS   THE   TIME! 

Dear  Joan  Davis: 

The  boy  I  have  been  going  with  just 
takes  me  for  granted,  I  feel.  He  has 
never  asked  me  to  go  steady  with  him, 
but  he  doesn't  expect  me  to  go  with 
anyone  else.  Several  boys  have  been 
asking  me  for  dates  lately  and  some  of 
them  I'd  like  to  accept.  I  think  this  boy 
is  very  nice,  but  as  I'm  only  sixteen  I 
would  like  lots  of  other  dates.  Another 
thing,  I  feel  that  he  is  beginning  to  take 
me  too  seriously.  Should  I  let  him  kiss 
me? 

Margaret  R. 

Dear  Margaret: 

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a  couple  of  years  there'll  be  all  sorts  of 
pressures  on  you — the  pressure  of  a 
job,  of  people  expecting  you  to  "act 
your  age,"  perhaps  a  man  whom  you 
really  care  about  in  an  adult  fashion. 
But  now  is  the  time  when  you  can  be 
as  carefree  as  you  like — and  have  dates 
with  as  many  different  boys  as  you  like. 
From  the  tone  of  your  letter,  I  think 
that's  exactly  what  you'd  like  to  do — 
have  lots  of  dates  with  lots  of  boys, 
and  not  bother  your  head  about  being 
serious,  "going  steady,"  with  any  one 
of  them. 

So  why  don't  you  do  just  that — while 
you  still  can?  Believe  me,  I  know  that 
being  young  has  its  drawbacks,  but 
it's  an  awful  lot  of  fun,  too!  At  sixteen, 
you  ought  to  have  a  lot  of  boys  clutter- 
ing up  the  place,  not  just  one.  Don't 
take  any  of  them  too  seriously,  and 
don't  let  any  of  them  take  you  too  seri- 
ously, and  you'll  have  a  wonderful  time. 
As  for  kisses,  they're  part  of  growing 
up,  too.  A  friendly,  boy-and-girl, 
doesn't-commit-you-to-anything  kiss  is 
just  that.  A  serious  kiss — but  then,  if 
you  have  a  lot  of  boy  friends,  and  a 
lot  of  fun,  there  won't  be  any  really 
serious  kisses,  or  any  really  serious 
problems,   will   there? 

— Joan  Davis 

EXAMINE    YOUR    HEART 

Dear  Joan  Davis: 

My  husband  and  I  are  separated — 
temporarily,  I  hope.  We've  been  mar- 
ried three  years,  and  the  only  trouble 
we've  ever  had  has  been  over  living 
quarters.  The  only  apartment  we  could 
find  when  we  got  married  was  a  two- 
room,  dreary  place  in  an  undesirable 
part  of  town,  and  where  we  shared 
the  bath  with  all  the  other  occupants 
on  that  floor. 

We  were  both  working,  and  finally, 
when  we'd  each  had  a  sizable  raise,  I 
started  to  talk  about  finding  a  better 
apartment.  My  husband  wasn't  a  bit 
interested,  so  I  figured  that  if  a  change 
was  made  I  would  have  to  be  the  one 
to  make  it.  I  finally  found  a  more  de- 
sirable apartment — conveniently  close 
to  my  work,  but  across  town  from  my 
husband's.  However,  since  we  both  had 
night  jobs,  I  thought  it  better  for  him 
to  make  the  long  trip  than  for  me,  es- 
pecially in  the  winter  months. 

I  really  thought  my  husband  would 
see  the  matter  as  I  did,  but  nothing 
but  hot  and  ever-hotter  arguments  fol- 
lowed, until  I  packed  up  and  left  for 
the  new  place  I'd  found — alone.  I  con- 
fess I  might  not  have  taken  this  seri- 
ous step  had  I  not  been  so  confident 
he  would  pack  up  his  clothes  and  fol- 
low. But  he  didn't.  I  waited  all  the 
first  evening,  then  the  next  morning  I 
phoned  him.  But  he  hung  up  on  me. 
Next  I  tried  writing.  My  letters  came 
back — unopened. 

What  in  the  world  shall  I  do  next? 
I  could  go  where  he  works,  and  see 
if  he  will  talk  to  me  there,  or  go  to  his 
folks  and  have  a  heart-to-heart  talk, 
or  even  send  a  friend  to  mediate  for 
me.  I'm  scared  to  death,  though,  Joan. 
If  every  one  of  these  should  fail,  what 
is  there  left  I  can  do?  I  love  my  hus- 
band the  same  as  always,  and  don't 
want  this  separation. 

Mrs.  L.  D. 

Dear   Mrs   L.    D.: 

Usually  it's  fairly  easy  for  me — or  for 
anyone  else — to  give  advice  on  a  prob- 
lem in  which  I  am  not  personally 
involved,  because  I  can  stand  off  and 
view  it  from  all  sides,  so  to  speak.  But 
I  don't  find  that  to  be  true  in  your  case. 
I've  read  your  letter  through  many 
times  and  at  the  end  of  each  reading 


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1  have  the  definite  feeling  that  there  is 
something  missing,  something  which 
you  haven't  told  me — something  which 
you  have  purposely  not  mentioned, 
or  which  you  don't  realize  or  recognize 
yourself,  which  would  provide  us  with 
the  key  to  what,  on  the  face  of  it,  seems 
an  entirely  inexplicable  reaction  on 
your  husband's  part. 

Let's  look  at  the  facts  you've  given 
me,  and  your  husband's  reactions  to 
your  moves.  You  say  that  this  is  the 
only  serious  cause  for  disagreement 
which  you  two  have  had  since  your 
marriage.  Certainly  the  premises  on 
which  you  worked — that  your  husband 
would  naturally  prefer  better  living 
quarters,  although  he  didn't  want,  as 
many  men  don't,  to  look  for  thera,  and 
that  he  would,  as  naturally,  prefer  to 
be  abroad  late  at  night  rather  than 
have  his  wife  make  that  sort  of  trip — 
seem  perfectly  valid.  Certainly  his  re- 
fusal to  talk  to  you,  his  returning  your 
letters  unopened,  seem  to  be  much 
too  drastic  treatment  in  return  for 
the  fact  that  you  left  the  apartment 
and  moved  to  the  new  one  without  him. 

All  of  which  brings  me  right  back 
to  what  I've  felt  since  I  first  read  your 
letter — that  there  must  be  something 
deeper  in  the  way  of  a  misunderstand- 
ing than  the  one  which  appears  on  the 
surface.  The  only  clue  I  have  is  the 
"hot  and  ever-hotter  arguments"  of 
which  you  speak.  Sometimes,  moved 
by  anger,  we  say  things  we  don't  mean 
— things  which,  unless  they  are  cleared 
up  at  once,  grow  larger  and  larger 
until  they  become  a  cloud  which  can 
obscure  all  the  brightness  of  a  mar- 
riage. Was  anything  of  that  kind  said 
in  those  arguments  of  yours?  That 
you'll  have  to  answer  for  yourself,  but 
I  advise  you  to  go  over,  in  your  mind, 
very  carefully,  those  arguments  of 
which  you  speak.  And  also  to  consider 
the  time  just  previous  to  your  locating 
the  new  apartment — did  you  disagree 
on  some  basic  issue  then,  which  you 
may  have  overlooked  in  the  remember- 
ing of  the  more  recent  arguments  con- 
cerning the  apartment? 

At  any  rate,  it's  inconceivable  that 
your  husband,  no  matter  how  hurt  or 
how  angry  he  may  be,  could  childishly 
continue  to  refuse  to  discuss  the  matter 
with  you.  If  he  does  continue  I  would, 
if  I  were  you,  take  the  choice  of  having 
a  friend  mediate  for  you,  rather  than 
trying  to  see  him  at  his  work  or  dis- 
cussing the.  matter  with  his  parents. 
For  preference,  I  suggest  you  choose 
your  family  doctor  or  pastor  to  talk 
to  your  husband.  From  his  reactions  to 
this  talk,  you  can  be  guided  in  further 
action.  But  first,  think  hard — what  did 
you  omit  telling  me? 

Joan  Davis 


We  asked  you  .  .  . 

(remember  the  March  issue?) 

what  you  think  about  Walter 
Winchell.  And — in  thousands  of 
letters — you  told  us! 

Watch    for    the    prize-winning    letters 
in  the  June 

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i09 


FAMILY 
COUNSELOR 


When  Sue  Howell,  USC  sopho- 
more, was  Family  Counselor,  she 
made  some  points  about  college 
which    interested    Brad    Burton. 


110 


WHEN  my  step-son,  Brad,  raised  the 
college  question,  I  felt  rather  in- 
adequate in  my  role  as  mother. 
Colleges  had  changed  since  Stan's  and 
my  time,  and  while  we  often  romanti-  ? 
cally  visualized  "our  boy"  as  captain  of 
his  college  football  team,  we  realized 
there  was  more  to  going  to  college  than 
that.  This  was  Brad's  question,  yes — 
but  it  was  a  problem  for  the  entire  fam- 
ily, too. 

We  were  fortunate  in  having  young 
Sue  Howell,  sophomore  at  the  Univer- 
sity of  California,  drop  by  for  a  visit.  As 
winner  of  the  1949  Maid  of  Cotton  Con- 
test, Sue  was  on  a  temporary  leave  of 
absence  from  school,  touring  the  United  . 
States,  England  and  France  as  goodwill  { 
ambassador  of  the  American  Cotton  In-  * 
dustry.  Well,  when  Sue  and  Brad 
started  to  discuss  college,  I  knew  that 
she  would  be  able  to  answer  many 
queries  on  the  merits  of  a  college  edu- 
cation, so  I  asked  her  to  appear  as  Fam- 
ily Counselor.  After  all,  Sue  was  chosen 
contest  winner  not  only  for  her  good 
looks,  but  because  of  her  personality, 
ability  to  learn  and  school  grades. 

Sue  told  Brad  to  do  some  serious  « 
thinking  about  going  to  college  and 
suggested  he  talk  it  over  with  his  teach- 
ers, school  counselors  and  parents. 
"Don't  jump  into  college  blindfolded 
just  because  your  best  friends  are 
registering,"  she  said.  "Participation  in 
campus  activities  will  make  for  good 
citizenship  in  later  life,  but  you've  got 
to  mean  business  too." 

When  Brad  asked  just  how  important 
a  degree  was,  Sue  offered  these  wise 
words:  "A  degree  is  important,  yes,  but 
it's  no  fool-proof  key  to  success.  Brad. 
Such  qualities  as  industry,  integrity, 
adaptability  and  congeniality  are  left 
up  to  you."  Brad  agreed  that  these 
portant  items  were  every  bit  as  neces 
sary  to  success  as  the  knowledge  one 
carries  in  one's  head. 


im-     i 
:es-  { 

mnc      I 


By    TERRY    BURTON 

Wednesday     is     Family     Counselor     Day     on     The 
Second    Mrs.  Burton,   heard    M-F,   2  P.M.,  CBS. 


Courses  in  classrooms.  Sue  pointed 
out,  offer  no  cure  for  laziness,  slackness, 
inattention  and  carelessness.  There's 
also  the  matter  of  self-knowledge — of 
deciding  whether  you,  personally,  learn 
faster  by  experience  and  observation,  or 
whether  you  need  books,  lectures,  lab- 
oratories. 

"Find  out  if  you're  college  material. 
Brad,  and  if  your  folks  can  afford  the 
additional  school  training.  And  if  you 
have  the  mental  powers  and  ambition 
to  make  the  most  of  your  college  years," 
Sue  suggested.  "Yes,  going  to  college 
will  broaden  your  mind,  widen  your 
vision  and  enrich  your  life  .  ,  .  but  the 
rest  is  up  to  you." 

On  The  Family  Counselor  broadcasts, 
we  want  to  discuss  problems  that  in- 
terest our  audience.  What  would  you 
like  discussed  by  one  of  our  Family 
Counselors?  Won't  you  send  your  sug- 
gestions to  me,  care  of  Radio  Mirror? 


Copyright  1919,  LicctiT  &  MviiRi;  Tobacco  Co. 


its 

MAKE  I^^Hi^g  THE   j^JIBSit  CIGARETTE  .../^^^iS^^%^ 


>/» 


.4JVI>  TELEVISIOIV 


IRROR 


JVNE  .  25<^ 


MILTON  BERLE  •  GRACIE  ALLEN 

>N  McNeill*  ralph  edwards 

BIG  SISTER  •  LANNY  ROSS 
r/fer  Winchell  Contest  Winners 


Mii^'UHt 


SKIN-SAFE  SOLITAIR!  The  only  founda- 
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evidence* — certified  by  leading  skin 
specialists  from  coast  to  coast — that  it 
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texture  chonge  or  inflammation  of  hair 
follicle  or  other  gland  opening.  No  other 
liquid,  powder,  cream  or  cake  "founda- 
tion" make-up  ofFers  such  positive  proof 
of  safety  for  your  skin. 

*biopsy-specimen 


\' 


by  Cell  Chi.iH 


Jewels  by  Seainan-Schepps 


See  the  loveliest  jou  that  you've  ever  seen — the  minute  you  use  Solitair 
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a  special  feather-weight  formula.  Clings  longer.    Outlasts  powder.  Hides  little  skin 
faults — yet  never  feels  mask-like,  never  looks  "made-up."  Like  finest  face  creams, 
Solitair  contains  Lanolin  to  protect  against  dryness.  Truly — you'll  be  lovelier 
with  this  make-up  that  millions  prefer.  No  better  quality.  Only  .|L00. 


Cake  Make-Up 


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Yes — the  first  and  only  lipstick  with  point 

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Applies  color  quicker,  easier,  more  evenly, 
ew,  exciting  "Dreamy  Pink"  shade — 
id  six  new  reds.   So  creamy  smooth — - 
contains  Lanolin — stays  on  so  long. 
Exquisite  case.  $1.00 

♦Slanting  cap  with  red  enameled  circle  idenli6es 
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Don'f  take  chances— 
start  with  Mum  today! 


Mum  sfa(p  smodfli, 

effective- 
doesniydifuouitjl 


)^iy7/  love  its 
delightful 
oeuj  -Floral  odor^ 
Its  creamy  texturei 


Make  today  YOUR  Mumday  and  you'll  use  soft,  dreamy- 
smooth  Mum  forever  after.  Millions  trust  their  charm  only 
to  this  dependable  cream  deodorant  that  contains  no  water 
to  dry  out  or  decrease  its  efficiency.  Get  large  size  Mum  now! 


'/mij  jU  Amflsj  tod/f^i 


See  for  yourself  how  surely  today's  Mum 
stops  underarm  perspiration  odor.  Mail  cou- 
pon for  generous  sample.  Enclose  34  stamp 
to  cover  postage. 
Bristol-Myers  Co.,  Dept.  M-69 
630  Fifth  Avenue,  N.  Y.  22,  N.  Y. 

Name 


Address_ 
City 


_Zone State. 


R 
M 

2     ^ 


Tobacco 
Mouth 


Why 
take  it  with  you? 

New  tooth  paste  with 

Lusterfoam  attacks  tobacco 

stain  and  ofF-color  breath. 

Don't  kid  yourself  about  "tobacco 
mouth" — it's  as  real  as  the  stain  on  a 
chain  smoker's  fingers! 

But  your  tongue  can  tell!  (You  can 
"taste"  an  odor.)  And  your  dentist 
knows  when  he  cleans  your  teeth. 
And  your  friends  might  notice  .  .  . 
you  know. 

But  they  won't  point  the  finger  at 
you  (after  you've  left  the  room  of 
course)  if  you're  a  regular  user  of 
Listerine  Tooth  Paste.  Here's  why — 

It  contains  Lusterfoam. — a  special 
ingredient  that  actually  foams  clean- 
ing and  polishing  agents  over  your 
teeth  .  .  .  into  the  crevices — removes 
fresh  stain  before  it  gets  a  chance  to 
"set"  .  .  .  whisks  away  that  odor- 
making  tobacco  debris! 

See    for    yourself    how    Listerine 
Tooth  Paste  with  Lusterfoam  freshens 
your  mouth  and  your  breath!  Get  a 
tube  and  make  sure  that 
wherever  you  go — you        ^„^^  \^n 


won't    take   "tobacco 


mouth"  with  you! 


IbBACCO 


Mouth 


•  ••&  ,  flf" 


ii^^;^ 


VKSV 


(!^&d'dcitj0^^ga^tm£f'' 


JUNE,  1949 


VOL.  32,  NO.  1 


MIHROR 


AXD  TELEVISION 


KEYSTONE 


PEOPLE  ON  THE  AIR 


Russ  Hodges 13 

Alan  Reed 18 

Ruth  Perrott 19 

Winchell  Contest  Winners 25 

"I'm  Growing  Up  Again" by  Gracie  Allen  28 

This  Is  Your  Life by  Ralph  Edwards  30 

Parky  Pulled  Me  Through by  Harry  Einstein  ("Parkyakarkus")  34 

Through  the  Years  With  Big  Sister — in  Pictures 36 

But  Is  It  Talent? by  Gwen  Jones  40 

Come  and  Visit  Dennis  Day by  Dorothy  Blair  42 

One  of  the  World's  Good  People by  Martin  Cohen  56 

Quiz  Kid  of  the  Quarter 58 

The  McNeills  Come  Calling by  Mrs.  Sam  Cowling  60 

My  Husband — Mr.  Keen by  Mrs.  Bennett  Kilpack  62 

li;HfHifi1'H'l 

Facing  the  Music by  Joe  Martin  8 

Look  At  the  Records by  Joe  Martin  10 

Collector's  Corner by  Andy  Russell  11 

What's  New  From  Coast  to  Coast by  Dale  Banks  14 

Information  Booth 23 

Are  You  Quiz-Wise? by  M.  A.  McCann  26 

Inside  Radio 70 

Quiz  Catalogue  73 


FOR  BETTER  LIVING 


You  and  the  Cosmetic  Tax by  Mary  Jane  Fulton 

What  Makes  You  Tick? by  John  McCaffery 

Between  the  Bookends by  Ted  Malone 

When  a  Girl  Marries by  Joan  Davis 

Most  Likely  to  Succeed by  Kate  Smith 


4 
17 
46 
48 
64 


Qammiz 


Your  Ticket  to  the  Texaco  Star  Theater 32 

Televisit  with  the  Erwins 50 

Cartoonists  j.g 51 

"Miracle"  on  TV 52 

Coast  to  Coast  in  Television 54 


YOUR  LOCAL  STATION 


WOV:  The  Show's  the  Thing 6 

KDKA:  Some  Pass  In 12 

WFIL:    Just   Plain    Jones 16 

WBEN :    Roving    Norseman 21 


RADIO  MIRROR  READER  BONUS 


Where  the  Heart  Is — A  Second  Mrs.  Burton  Novelette  by  Helen  Christy  Harris     66 

ON  THE  COVER:  The  Dennis  Day  Family;   color  portraits  by  Hymie  Fink, 

Sterling  Smith. 

Editorial  Director  Editor  Art  Director 

FKED  B.  SAMMIS  DORIS  McFERRAN  JACK  ZASORIN 

Managing  Editor  Associate  Art  Director 

EVELYN    L.    FIORE  FRANCES    MALY 

Television  Editorial  Assistant  Research 

FRANCES  KISH  JOAN  POLLOCK  TERU  GOTO 

Chicago  Office:  Editor,    HELEN   CAMBRIA  BOLSTAD 

Hollywood  Office :  £iii7or,  ANN  DAGGETT  Managing  Editor,    FRANCES  MORRIN 

Staff  Photographers,  HYMIE    FINK,  STERLING  SMITH  Assistant,  BETTY   JO    RICE 


RADIO  AND  TELEVISION  MIRROR,  published  monthly  by  MACFADDEN  PUBLICATIONS,  INC.,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
General  Businessr Editorial  a?dAcfvertising  Offices,  205'East  42nd  St.,  New  York  17,  N.  Y.  Hollywood-Beverly 
Hill<i  Office-  321  S  Beverly  Drive,  Beverly  Hills.  California.  O.  J.  Elder,  President;  Harold  Wise,  Executive  Vice 
President;  Herbert  Drake,  Vice  President;  Ernest  V.  Heyn,  Vice  President;  Meyer  Dworkin,  Secretary  and  Treasurer; 
Edward  F  Lethen,  Advertising  Director.  Chicago  Office:  221  North  La  Salle  St.,  Leslie  R.  Gajre,  Mgr.  San  Francisco 
Office-  1613  Russ  Buildincc,  Joseph  M.  Dooher,  MgT.  Los  Angeles  Office:  612  South  Flower  St.,  George  Weatherby, 
MCT  Charles  O.Terwilliger,  Jr.,'^Eastem  Advertising  Manager,  205  East  42nd  St.,  New  York  17,  N.  Y  Reenter«I 
as  Second  Class  matter  March  1,  1948,  at  the  Post  Office  at  New  York,  N.  Y.,  under  the  Act  of  March  3.  1879. 
Authorized  as  Second  Class  mail,  P.  O.  Dept.,  Ottawa,  Ont.,  Canada.  Subscription  rates:  U.  S.  and  Possessions. 
Canada,  $2,50  per  year.  All  other  countries  S5.00  per  year.  Price  per  copy;  25c  in  the  United  States  and 
Canada  While  Manuscripts,  Photographs  and  Drawings  are  submitted  at  the  owner's  risk,  every  effort  will  be 
made  to  return  those  found  unavailable  it  accompanied  by  sufficient  first  class  postage  and  explicit  name  and 
address.  Contributors  are  especially  advised  to  be  sure  to  retain  copies  of  their  contributions;  otherwise  they 
are  taking  unnecessary  risk.  The  contents  of  this  magazine  may  not  be  reprinted  either  wholly  or  in  part  without 
permission.  (Member  of  Macfadden   Women's   Group)  .   ,...  ^  *,  « 

Copyright,    1949,  by  Macfadden  Publications,    Inc.  All   rights  reserved  under  International   Copyright  Conventlpn. 
AH  rights  reserved  under  Pan-American   Copyright  Convention.    Todos   derechos   reservados   segun  La   Convencion 
Pananiericana   de   Propiedad   Literaria  y   Artistica.    Title   trademark   registered   in   U.    S.    Patent   Office. 
Printed  in  U.   S.  A.   by  Art  Color  Printing  Co.,  Dunellen,   N.   J. 


C^^fV&^^T/fpH^ 


In  July:   four  picture-pages   take  you 
Through  the  Years  with  Lorenzo  Jones 


FOR  some  time  now,  one  of  the 
features   you'  ve   liked  most  in 

Radio  Mirror   has  been   the 

monthly  Reader  Bonus,  the  king- 
size  novelette  in  which  we've 
brought  you  a  variety  of  good 
reading  matter  about  radio  people. 
Next  month  comes  a  big  surprise — • 
a  double-bonus  issue,  we  call  it,  be- 
cause in  it  you'll  find  not  one,  but 
two  big  fat  stories.  One  is  a  fictioni- 
zation  from  the  well-loved  drama 
Portia  Faces  Life.  The  other  is  a 
creepy  tale  of  terror,  novelized 
from  one  of  the  most  hair-raising 
of  recent  Suspense  dramas.  There's 
enough  good  reading  for  the  whole 
month  of  June  in  those  two 
features ! 


But  don't  go  away!  Not  satisfied 
with  giving  you  enough,  we  give 
you  more.  Mrs.  Art  Linkletter,  who 
has  five  children,  tells  what  she 
knows  (and  it's  plenty)  about  bring- 
ing them  up  so  that  it's  fun  for 
everyone  concerned,  instead  of 
trouble.  Georgia  Carroll,  the  glam- 
orous wife  of  Kay  Kyser,  talks  about 
fcimilies  too,  with  special  reference 
to  husbands  and  how  Kay  ranks 
among  them.  (High,  says  lucky 
Georgia.)  Hand  in  hand  with  the 
story  about  Kay  go  two  pages  hy 
him — our  new  Fun  and  Knowledge 
feature  full  of  games  to  play,  quizzes 
to  puzzle  over,  jokes  to  laugh  at. 
*        *        * 

We  go  in  style  (and  color!)  to  a 
broadcast  of  County  Fair.  Minnie 
Pearl  models  some  of  her  Mad 
Hatter  hats;  Joan  Davis  answers 
more  of  your  letters ;  the  Television 
Section  brings  you  up-to-date  on 
what's  going  on  in  and  around  TV; 
and  all  the  other  departments  are, 
as  always,  full  of  the  best  and  bright- 
est news  about  radio  that  the 
month  has  to  offer.  It's  all  in  July, 
on  sale  June  10th. 


TONI  TWINS  prove  magic  of 
SOFT-WATER  Shampooing 


BUT  KATHLEENE 
GOT  HEAPS  OF  IT! 

"Look  at  all  this  lather", 
smiled  her  twin,  Kathleene, 
"I  discovered  that  Toni 
Creme  Shampoo  gives  Soft- 
Water  Sharnpooing  even  in 
hard  water!  I  never  saw  such 
suds!  Never  saw  my  hair  so 
shining  clean  before,  either !" 
That's  what  Toni's  Soft- 
Water  Shampooing  means. 
Even  in  hard  water  it  means 
billows  of  rich,  whipped- 
cream  suds  that  leave  your 
hair  shimmering  clean! 


LATHER  .  .  .  WAS 
KATHERINE'S  PROBLEM. 

"My  shampoo  simply  would 
not  lather  right",  complained 
Katherine  Ring.  "I'd  rub  and 
rub  but  still  my  hair  never 
had  much  glint  to  it!"  And 
no  wonder!  Katherine  was 
using  a  soap  shampoo,  and 
soaps  not  only  fail  to  lather 
as  well  in  hard  water  — they 
actually  leave  a  film  on  hair 
that  dulls  natural  lustre!  So 
your  hair  lacks  highlights, 
looks  drab  and  lifeless ! 


NOW  IT'S  TONI  CREME  SHAMPOO  FOR  TWO! 


Yes,  it's  Toni  and  only  Toni  for  both  the 
Ring  twins  from  now  on.  Because  Toni 
Creme  Shampoo  gives  Soft- Water  Sham- 

f)ooing  in  hard  water!  That  creamy-thick 
ather  rinses  away  dirt  and  dandruff  in- 
stantly. Leaves  your  hair  fragrantly  clean, 
gloriously  soft!  And  Toni  Creme  Shampoo 
helps  your  permanent  to  "take"  better— look 
lovelier  longer.  Get  a  jar  or  tube  of  Toni 
Creme  Shampoo  today.  See  it  work  the  magic 
of  Soft-Water  Shampooing  on  youT  hair! 


Enriched  with  Lanolin 


Don't  be 
Half-safe! 


by 

VALDA  SHERMAN 


At  the  first  blush  of  womanhood  many  mys- 
terious changes  take  place  in  your  body.  For 
instance,  the  apocrine  glands  under  your 
arms  begin  to  secrete  daily  a  type  of  perspi- 
ration you  have  never  known  before.  This  is 
closely  related  to  physical  development  and 
causes  an  unpleasant  odor  on  both  your  per- 
son and  your  clothes. 

There  is  nothing  "wrong"  with  you.  It's  just 
another  sign  you  are  now  a  woman,  not  a 
girl ...  so  now  you  must  keep  yourself  safe 
with  a  truly  effective  underarm  deodorant. 

Two  dangers— Underarm  odor  is  a  real  handi- 
cap at  this  romantic  age,  and  the  new  cream 
deodorant  Arrid  is  made  especially  to  over- 
come this  very  difficulty.  It  kills  this  odor 
oj  contact  in  2  seconds,  then  by  antiseptic 
action  prevents  the  formation  of  all  odor  for 
48  hours  and  keeps  you  shower-bath  fresh. 
It  also  stops  perspiration  and  so  protects 
against  a  second  danger— perspiration  stains. 
Since  physical  exertion,  embarrassment  and 
emotion  can  now  cause  apocrine  glands 
to  fairly  gush  perspiration,  a  dance,  a  date, 
an  embarrassing  remark  may  easily  make 
you  perspire  and  offend,  or  ruin  a  dress. 

All  deodorants  are  not  alike  — so  remember 
—no  other  deodorant  tested  stops  perspira- 
tion and  odor  so  completely  yet  so  safely  as 
new  Arrid.  Its  safety  has  been  proved  by 
doctors.  That's  why  girls  your  age  buy  more 
Arrid  than  any  other  age  group.  More 'men 
and  women  use  Arrid  than  any  other  deo- 
dorant. Antiseptic,  used  by  117,000  nurses. 


Intimate  protection  is  needed— so  protect  your- 
self with  this  snowy,  stainless  cream.  Award- 
ed American  Laundering  Institute  Approval 
Seal— harmless  to  fabrics.  Safe  for  skin— can 
be  used  right  after  shaving.  Arrid,  with  the 
amazing  new  ingredient  Creamogen,  will  not 
dry  out. 

Your  satisfaction  guaranteed,  or  your  money 
back!  If  you  are  not  completely  convinced 
that  Arrid  is  in  every  way  the  finest  cream 
deodorant  you've  ever  used,  return  the  jar 
with  unused  portion  to  Carter  Products, 
Inc.,  53  Park  PL,  N.Y.C.,  for  refund  of  full 
purchase  price. 

Don't  be  half-safe.  Be  Arrid-safe!  Use  Arrid 
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m  TH[  COSMETIC  ]\\ 


By 

MARY 
JANE 
FULTON 


On  the  dressing  table  of  Susan  Thorn,  of  ABC's  My  True  Story,  are 
some  of  the  "luxuries"  which  to  Susan — and  you — are  necessities. 


liJHEN  there's  something  you  don't  like,  you  can  usually  try  to  do 
WW  something  about  correcting  it — and  often  succeed.  Let's  consider  some- 
"  "  thing  you  certainly  don't  like — the  twenty  percent  cosmetic  tax  about 
which  you've  been  grumbling. 

During  the  war,  you  know,  this  excise  tax  was  added  to  the  cost  of  your 
cosmetics.  It  was  levied  then  for  patriotic  reasons.  The  extra  charge 
added  to  the  cost  of  toiletries  you  paid  willingly,  because  you  knew  that  it 
was  helping  to  meet  the  expense  of  winning  the  war.  It  v/as  supposed  to 
be  a  war  emergency  tax.  But  the  war  has  been  over  for  three  years,  and 
the  tax  hasn't  yet  been  lifted.  In  fact,  there's  a  strong  possibility  that  it  may 
become   permanent. 

Knowing  this  possibility,  the  toilet  goods  industry  has  taken  legislative 
action  in  Washington.  The  bill  is  due  to  come  up  again  soon  for  review. 
When  you  read  this,  the  debate  for  its  termination,  or  continuance,  may 
already  be  "hot."  The  final  decision  depends  not  alone  on  the  efforts  of  the 
toilet  goods  industry,  but  also  upon  you. 

Why  you?  The  reason  is  plain.  Congressmen  and  senators  listen  to  so- 
called  "pressure  groups,"  of  course.  But  they  also  pay  a  great  deal  of 
attention  to  what  you,  the  voters,  want  them  to  do  for  you.  You  elect  them, 
so  they're  pledged  to  do  your  bidding.  When  new  issues,  such  as  this  one, 
arise,  the  only  sure  way  for  them  to  know  what  you  want  them  to  do,  is  for 
you  to  write  to  them. 

So  write  at  once,  telling  them  how  annoyed  and  displeased  you  are  to 
have  the  cosmetics  taxed  which  are  necessary  to  keep  you  well-groomed 
and  attractive-looking.  Point  out  that  you  do  not  consider  luxuries  such 
things  as  cleansing  cream,  deodorant,  lipstick,  face  powder,  a  home  perma- 
nent wave,  hand  lotion,  hand  cream,  nail  polish,  shampoo,  the  talcum  and 
baby  oil  you  buy  for  your  baby,  and  other  toiletries.  For  as  a  stenographer, 
file  clerk,  waitress,  or  housewife,  for  instance,  you  cannot  afford  to  do  with- 
out these  items.  Keeping  yourself  clean,  well-groomed,  and  attractive  is  as 
much  a  part  of  your  job  as  having  the  know-how  to  do  your  work  well.  Also 
stress  that  the  additional  strain  the  twenty  percent  tax  places  upon  your 
budget  makes  it  quite  an  item,  even  though  you  do  try  to  economize,  and 
not  buy  as  many  cosmetics  as  you'd  like. 

According  to  a  survey,  a  New  York  working  woman  whose  weekly  salary 
range  is  from  $25  to  $35  a  week,  spends  an  average  of  $3  a  month  for  toilet 
preparations.  "These  are  official  figures.  But  you  don't  have  to  know  official 
figures  to  realize  that,  if  the  twenty  percent  excise  tax  were  lifted,  you  would 
be  able,  once  again,  to  afford  to  buy  all  the  toiletries  you  need  for  daily  use. 

If  you  don't  know  who  represents  you  in  Congress,  ask  your  local  druggist. 
He  has  this  information.  You  may  also  write  to  the  chairmen  of  the  Con- 
gressional committees  involved  in  this  matter.   Address  them  as  follows: 

The  Honorable  Robert  L.  Doughton,  Chairman,  Ways  and  Means  Com- 
mittee of  the  House  of  Representatives,  House  Office  Building,  Washington, 
D.  C.  Senator  Walter  F.  George,  Chairman,  Senate  Finance  Committee, 
Senate   Office  Building,   Washington,   D.C. 

Your  letters  will  carry  great  weight.    So  don't  delay.    Write  today! 


RADIO    MIRROR    for    BETTER    EIVING 


IF  YOU  WANT  OTHERS  to  admire  your 
hair  ...  if  you  want  to  keep  it  looking 
its  healthy  best  ...  be  on  guard  against 
infectious  dandruff  which  can  so  quickly 
play  hob  with  it. 

Simply  make  Listerine  Antiseptic  and 
massage  a  part  of  regular  hair-washing 
routine  as  countless  fastidious  women  do 
(men,  too).  It's  simple,  delightful,  eflScient. 

Infectious  dandruff  is  often  easy  to 
catch,  hard  to  get  rid  of.  You  can  pick  it 
up  from  seat  backs  in  cars  and  buses,  or  in 
trying  on  a  hat,  or  from  a  borrowed  comb. 
Its  early  symptoms — flakes  and  scales — 
are  a  warning  not  to  be  ignored.  You  see, 
infectious  dandruff  is  usually  accompanied 
by  the  ""bottle  bacillus"  (P.  ovale).  Many 
dermatologists  look  upon  it  as  a  causative 
agent  of  infectious  dandruff. 

Listerine  Antiseptic  kills  the  "bottle 
bacillus"  by  millions  on  scalp  and  hair. 
That's  why  it's  such  a  wonderful  precau- 
tion against  infectious  dandruff  .  .  .  why 
you  should  make  it  a  part  of  your  regular 
hair-washing — no  matter  what  kind  of 
shampoo  you  use. 

Even  when  infectious  dandruff  has  a 
head  start,  twice-a-day  use  of  Listerine 
Antiseptic  is  wonderfully  helpful.  Flakes 
and  scales  begin  to  disappear,  itching  is 
alleviated,  and  your  scalp  feels  marvelously 
clean  from  that  antiseptic  action.  In  clin- 
ical tests,  twice-a-day  use  brought  marked 
improvement  in  dandruff  symptoms  with- 
in a  month  to  76%  of  dandruff  sufferers. 

Lambert  Pharmacal  Co.,  St.  Louis,  Mo. 


LISTERINE  ANTISEPTIC 

for 

INFECTIOUS  DANDRUFF 


THE  TREATMENT— Women:  Part  hair,  all  over  the  scalp 
and  apply  Listerine  Antiseptic  with  finger-tips  or  cotton.  Rub 
in  well.  Carefully  done,  it  can't  hurt  your  wave.  Men:  Douse 
full-strength  Listerine  Antiseptic  on  the  scalp.  Follow  with 
good,  vigorous  massage.  Listerine  Antiseptic  is  the  same 
antiseptic  that  has  been  famous  in  the  field  of  oral  hygiene 
for  over  60  years. 


P.  S.  IT'S  NEW!  Have  you  tried  Listerine  TOOTH  PASTE,  the  MINTY  3-way  prescription  for  your  teeth.? 


In  WOV's  studio.  Max  Cole   (r.)   serves  breakfast  for  visitors  to  his  Wake  Up,  New  York.    Max  is   consid- 
erate   in    other    ways,    too — his    records    neither    jolt    listeners    out    of    bed    nor    lull    them    back    to    sleep. 


M 


Max    left   the    Navy   as    a    full    lieutenant, 
having    fought    in    many    crucial    battles. 


f  AX  COLE  seems  to  be  experimenting  in  reversed  max- 
ims, and  in  his  case  the  system  seems  to  be  working 
wonders.  Born  in  Kansas,  schooled  in  Arizona,  Max 
reversed  his  first  maxim  after  graduating  from  the  Univer- 
sity of  Missouri.  "Go  West,  young  man"  preached  Horace 
Greeley  ...  so  Max  started  East.  At  the  University  he'd 
picked  up  radio  knowledge  through  working  for  the  local 
Columbia  Missouri  station,  KFRU.  Next,  he  "stopped"  at 
KSD  in  St.  Louis  for  three  years,  where  he  was  bitten  by 
the  movie-bug.    This  further  detoured  his  Eastern  arrival. 

Max  finally  snagged  a  small  role  in  a  play  put  on  by  the 
Pasadena  Playhouse  and  was  actually  spotted  and  ap- 
proached by  a  Warner  Bros,  talent  scout,  screen-tested  and 
offered  a  contract.  That  was  early  in  1942.  Through  the 
courtesy  of  the  U.  S.  Navy  Max  was  saved  making  the 
decision  on  the  Warner  offer. 

Arriving  East  at  last — in  New  York — Max  reversed  his 
second  maxim  .  .  .  this  one  not  so  much  a  maxim  as  a  pat- 
tern for  action  among  unemployed  radio  hopefuls:  "Start 
with  the  networks."  Max  first  approached  an  independent 
station,  the  5000  watts  WOV.  The  coupling  of  Max's  good 
voice  and  diction  with  his  sincerity  won  him  recognition  at 
WOV,  and  when  the  6:30-9  A.M.  Wake  Up,  New  York  M.C. 
spot  was  vacated  it  was  given  to  Max.  With  a  show  of  his 
own.  Max  continued  to  reverse  the  customary  policy.  He 
has  at  no  time  tried  to  build  himself  up  as  a  "hot"  person- 
ality or  convince  his  listeners  that  he's  "big  time  on  a 
vacation."  Instead,  he  has  tried  to  build  up  WOV's  (and 
his)  Wake  Up,  New  York  show.  As  a  consequence  it  is 
gaining  steadily  in  popularity,  and  so  is  the  disc-jockey 
who  is  so  set  on  building  the  show  and  not  the  M.C. 

We  asked  Max  how  he  knew  what  his  listeners  want  in 
the  way  of  programming.  He  waved  a  handful  of  letters 
and  said  "I  get  about  half  a  sackful  of  these  every  day,  and 
I  read  them  all.  I  don't  make  my  program  .  .  .  my  listeners 
do."   From  all  indications  they're  pleased  with  the  results. 


GINGHAM  SUNBACK 

Separaie  Pique  Bo/ero 
Flashing  white  jacket  with  gmg- 
ham  inserts.  Whirling  skirt  sun- 
back  of  expensive  woven  ging- 
ham featuring  Blue  or  Red 
plaid. 

Sizes:  9,  11,  13,  15,  17;  12,  14, 
16,  18,  20. 
Order   NO.    1301      Only    C98 


2-PIECE  PASTEL 

Peplum  Jacket  —  Flare  Sklrf 
Flattering!  Panel  front  jacket, 
washable  applique  trim,  flirty 
peplum.  Linen-like  Wundolin  cot* 
ton.  Lilac,  Aqua,  Pink,  or  Grey. 
Sizes:  9,  11,  13,  15,  17;  12,  14, 
16,  18,  20;  40,  42,  44. 
Order  NO.  2527  Only  098 


WHITE  SHOULDERS 

Side-Su^fon  Beauty 
Opens  down  the  side!  Snowy  white 
shoulder  tabs  of  eyelet  pique  em- 
broidery. Full  swinging  skirt.  Pink, 
Lime  or  Blue  stripes  all  with  Black 
scroll  pattern. 

Sizes:  12,  14,  16,  18;  38,  40,  42,  44 
(sizes    38    to   44    made    with    center* 
pleat  skirt). 
Order  NO.  3300  *^"'y  3^8 


FROM  FLORIDA  FASHIONS 

^ly^BYMAIL 


STRIPED  PEPLUM 

Coa(  Dress  —  Eyelef  Jr.... 
Slimming  stripes,  always  flaHeringI  Smart 
lace  edge  front  peplum.  Square  neck  and 
cap  sleeves  .  .  .  cool  and  comfortable. 
Green,  Blue,  or  Wine. 
Sizes:  14,  16,  18,  20;  40,  42,  44,  46. 
Orcfer  NO.  2514  Only  098 


CHECK'N  WHITE  SUNBACK 

Expensive  Eyelet  Inserts 
Glamorous!  Your  smortest  sunback,  with  new- 
sweet-and-low  neckline,  sparkling  whifB 
eyelet  embroidered  collar  and  godet  inserts, 
frilly  cap  sleeves.  Block,  Red,  or  Green  checks. 
Sizes:  12,  14,  16,  18,  20. 
Order  NO.  1004    ^„. 


In/y  ^98 


can  you  get 

THESE  Vnmuai 

THESE 

/Ifi/iadce  . 
ya£(m! 


MONEY  BACK 

GUARANTEE 

You  tan  moke  an  eichange  ot  gel 

an  immediate  refund    .  .  no 

questions  asked ...  if  you  are 

not  100%  thriired  with  your 

dresses. 


WHIRUGIRl  BOIERO 

Sensotionof  Plaid'n  Solid  SunbocJc 
Our  famous  full-skirted  Whirligirl  —  now  in  exciting 
contrast  .  .  .  gay  plaid  with  tiers  of  fine  solid  color 
broadcloth.  Plaid  bolero  jacket.  Lilac  with  Lilac 
Plaid,  Gray  with  Grey  Plaid,  Blue  with  Blue  Plaid. 
Sizei:  9,  11,  13,  15,  17;  12,  14,  16,  18,  20. 
Order  NO.   1201  Only  ^98 

"©  F.F.  Inc.  1949 


3-in-1   SUNNY  HUG! 

Exciting  New 
Svnback  Bolero 
Wear  it  3  ways  —  strapless, 
with  halter  strop,  or  bolero 
jacket.  24'row  elastic  bodice 
flatters  and  fits  all  figures. 
Full  skirt.  Striped  pattern  on 
Aqua  or  Grey  ground.  Also  in 
Block  &  Gold  or  Green  &  Pink 
plaid. 

Sizes:  Small  (9  to  14)  Medium 
(15  to  18)  Large  (20  to  40). 
Order  NO.  604       Only  098 


SWIRLING  STRIPES 

U4  Inches  f-U-L-L  Swing  SkW 
Imagine!  This  striking  swirling 
beauty  ...  it's  whole"v"front 
of  dazzling  embroidered  white 
pique,  ruffles  with  ric  roc  trim 
.  .  .  exciting  glamour  for  you. 
Red,  Blue,  or  Green  stripes. 
Sizes:  12,  14,  16,  18,  20. 
Order  NO.    1002     Only   ^9B 

*These  styles  in  these  pafferns  or  color  combinations 
ore  ovoiloble  only  from  Florida  fashions. 


PERT'N  PREHY 
Splash  ot  Plaid  on  Solid 
Expensively  woven  gingham,  and  solid 
color  fine  quality  cotton,  with  yards 
and  yards  of  lace  edge  to  shape  two 
big  pockets  and  yoke.  Solid  Grey  with 
Red  Plaid,  Lilac  with  Red  Plaid,  Blue 
with  Blue  Plaid. 
Sizes:  9,  11,  13,  15,  17. 
Order  NO.' 1101  Only  098 


'SEND   NO  MONEY!  .   WE  MAIL  IMMEDIATELY  •  Write  For  FREE  Style  Folder 


fc<yixdLa  ■foAJolo'ViA ,  lyic . 


FLORIDA  FASHIONS,  SANFORD     312     FLORIDA 

Please  send  me  these  dresses  on  opprovol  at  the  price  listed  plus  postage 
and  C.O.D.  charges.  If  not  delighted  I  may  return  purchases  within  ten  days 
for  refund.  (You  may  enclose  purchase  price  plus  20  cents  postoge,  saving 
C.O.D.  fees.  Some  refund  privilege.) 


Haw 
Many 

Style 

Size 

Color 

2nd  Color 
Choice 

Each 

Total 

(B)] 


Nome 

(PLEASE    PRINT    PLAINLV) 

Address 


City Zone Stote.. 


Rochester  and  Phil  Harris  give  the  drums  a  com 
plete   workout   before   a   Jack    Benny   broadcast 


Bridegroom  Mel  Torme  gets  the  just-right  polish 
from  his  father  before  wedding  to  Candy  Toxton. 


WHO  ever  said  that  marriage  was  anything  but 
lucky?  Little  Mel  Torme  really  hit  the  jackpot 
when  he  married  lovely  Candy  Toxton.  He  won 
a  fine  wife,  a  recording  contract,  fine  reviews  for  his 
work  in  "Words  And  Music"  and  a  hit  disc  in  "Careless 
Hands."  And  all  that  for  saying  "I  do"! 

Tony  Pastor's  successful  run  at  New  York's  Hotel 
Statler  gave  vent  to  some  reminiscences  by  the  saxo- 
phone-playing maestro.  Tony  launched  his  career  at 
^hat  very  hotel  (then  called  the  Pennsylvania)  in  1940. 
At  that  time  Tony  was  a  musician  and  vocalist  in  Artie 
Shaw's  great  band.  One  night  the  unpredictable  Artie 
failed  to  show  up  and  Tony  stepped  out  of  the  sax 
section  to  direct  the  band.  When  word  was  received 
that  Artie  was  giving  up  the  band  business  and  heading 
for  a  retreat  in  Mexico,  Tony  was  elected  to  take  over 
the  band  for  the  remainder  of  the  engagement.  It 
wasn't  long  before  Tony  built  his  own  band — and  you 
know  the  rest  of  the  story. 

*  *       '  * 

One  of  the  cutest  novelty  songs  ever  written  will  be 
making  its  debut  on  lots  of  record  labels  very  shortly. 
The  title,  believe  it  or  not,  is  "If  You're  Not  Completely 
Satisfied  In  Thirty  Days,  Your  Love  Will  Be  Cheerfully 
Refunded." 


Bob  Hope,  Frank  Sinatra,  Abe 
Burrows  got  together  for  the 
National  Arthritic  benefit  show. 


;^Nj^- '^^■s^^^^^''^^  .^^  _jt:_'*^QiL''^Htk"'°gkS:Vi  -^■'tt--''^'^"'^'''»^''^'"^t*^"^^^"''Si^'^^^ 


m 


the  music 


Glenn  Ford,  one  of  Jo  Stafford's  recent  Mystery  Stars 
on  NBC's  Supper  Club,  looks  over  the  score  with  Jo. 


A   telephone    call    from    an    out-of-town    friend    was    a 
surprise  to  both  Margaret  Whiting  and  Agnes  Moorehead. 


Rage  among  the  be-bop  musicians  is  English-born 
pianist  George  Shearing,  whose  amazing  keyboard 
technique  and  showmanly  presentation  are  unique 
among  jazz  musicians.  Most  amazing  is  the  pair  of 
facts  that  Shearing  first  arrived  in  America  one  short 
year  ago,  and  is  totally  blind. 

*         *         * 

Top  candidate  as  the  marvel  of  the  music  industry 
is  composer-arranger-conductor  Paul  Weston,  whose 
friends  actually  get  weary  just  watching  him  fill  his 
busy  schedule.  In  radio,  Paul  is  arranger  and  con- 
ductor for  Jo  Stafford  on  NBC's  Supper  Club  and 
ABC's  Jo  Stafford  Show.  He's  also  musical  di- 
rector for  Capitol  Records  in  which  capacity  he  writes 
the  arrangements  and  provides  the  musical  back- 
grounds for  such  vocal  talent  as  Miss  Stafford,  Gordon 
MacRae,  Margaret  Whiting,  Andy  Russell,  Johnny 
Mercer,  and  the  Starlighters.  On  top  of  this  Paul  finds 
the  time  to  write  such  hit  songs  as  "Ain'tcha  Ever 
Comin'  Back,"  "I  Should  Care,"  "Day  By  Day"  and 
the  newest,  "Congratulations."  And,  of  course,  Paul 
is  a  best-selling  recording  artist  in  his  own  right  and 
also  assistant  director  of  artists  and  repertoire  for 
Capitol.  ^ 

After  hoping  against  hope  that  the  band  business 
would  pick  up  sufficiently  to  support  a  big  dance  band. 


Tex  Beneke  has  finally  come  to  the  conclusion  that  he 
couldn't  travel  the  nation  economically  with  a  thirty- 
three-piece  orchestra.  Consequently  the  new  Beneke 
band  is  sans  fiddles  and  down  to  the  size  of  the  original 
Glenn  Miller  band  of  twenty-three  men.  Actually  Tex 
was  carrying  out  the  wishes  of  the  late  Glenn  Miller 
by  enlarging  the  band.  Many  dyed-in-the-wool  Miller 
fans,  however,  seemed  to  feel  that  Tex  was  trying 
to  improve  upon  an  already  established  band  style.  So 
the  new  Beneke  band  will  sound  more  like  Glenn 
Miller  than  ever  before. 

*         *         * 

Word  comes  to  us  that  the  Metropolitan  Opera  Com- 
pany has  "discovered"  little  Betty  Clark,  the  12-year- 
old  blind  girl  who  has  the  distinction  of  being  the  only 
child  her  age  to  have  her  own  program  on  the  air. 
Met  officials  are  taking  an  interest  in  Betty's  training, 
with  an  eye — or  should  we  say  ear? — to  the  future, 
a  future  they  feel  includes  singing  with  the  opera 
company.  *         *         * 

Capitol  Records  is  joining  RCA-Victor  in  putting 
out  45  rpm  long  playing  records.  Columbia  and  Mer- 
cury are  making  33  rpm.  They'll  all  continue  making 
the  regular  78  rpm,  of  course.  Anybody  got  a  record 
player  with  three  speeds,  or  do  we  need  a  living 
room  full  of  players  from  now  on? 


By   JOE   MARTIN 


COLORiNSE 

fLVROJM^ 


with 


GIVES  YOUR  HAIR 

MORE   COLOR 

•  Absolutely  harmless 

•  Washes  out  easily 

Now,  from  the  famous  Nestle  Hair  Labora- 
tories comes  LURiUM-an  amazing  new  in- 
gredient added  to  Nestle  Colorinse  to  give 
your  hair  more  glorious  coLOR-BEAUTY, 
sparkling  highlights  and  silken  lustre  than 
ever  before. 

And  —  Nestle  Colorinse  with  Lurium 
eliminates  tangles  —  makes  hair  easier  to 
comb,  easier  to  manage. 

Get  a  package  of  the  new  Nestle  Colo- 
rinse  with  Lurium  today!  Choose  from  the 
10  flattering  shades  at  all  beauty  counters. 


So  Economical  fo  Use! 

2  rinses  10(^ 
6  rinses  25^ 


10 


NESTLE  ^orig/nofors    of  i/^-   '!s-      ' 

permanent    waving    —    Meriden,    Conr 


cJLook  at  the 

RECORDS 


By  Joe  Martin 


Gordon  MacRae's  version  of  "The 
Right  Girl  For  Me,"  from  the 
movie  "Take  Me  Out  to  the  Ball 
Game,"  should  give  that  tune 
the      right      start      to      popularity. 


DINAH  SHORE  (Columbia)— Dinah  is  "Havin'  A  Wonderful  Wish"  and  tell- 
ing "The  Story  of  My  Life."  The  first  named  is  from  "Sorrowful  Jones."  A  pair 
of  fine  tunes. 


PRIMO  SCALA  (London) — Even  if  it  is  corny  it's  irresistible.  The  Scala 
banjo  and  accordion  band  have  a  hit  in  "All  Over  Italy"  and  "There's  Nothing 
to  Do  in  Sleepyville."    Can't  stop  whistling  "All  Over  Italy." 

MARGARET  WHITING  (Capitol)— The  Johnny  Mercer— Harry  Warren 
song-writing  team  is  great.  Maggie's  "Great  Guns"  proves  it.  "Comme  Ci 
Comme  Ca"  sounded  hetter  in  the  original  French  version  "Clopin  Clopant." 

VAUGHN  MONROE  (RCA  Victor)— Remember  "Ballerina"  and  "Matinee"? 
Then  watch  the  reaction  to  "A  Senorita's  Bouquet."  "Don't  Lie  To  Me"  is  the 
reverse  side  and  good,  too. 

GORDON  MacRAE  (Capitol)— "The  Right  Girl  for  Me"  is  from  "Take  Me 
Out  to  the  Ball  Game."  "I  Get  Up  Every  Morning"  is  one  of  the  best  of  Gor- 
don's platter  efforts. 

FRANCIS  CRAIG  (MGM— The  man  who  made  "Near  You"  and  "Beg  Your 
Pardon"  is  now  an  MGM  artist.  Francis  wrote  both  "I  Thought  I  Was  Dream- 
ing" and  "Tennessee  Tango."  You  can  choose  for  yourself  between  them. 

JACK  KILTY  (MGM)— A  product  of  Oklahoma  and  a  television  star  of 
the  moment.  Jack  sings  well  on  "Streets  of  Laredo"  and  "I  Got  a  Gal  in  Gal- 
veston." 


SPIKE  JONES  (RCA  Victor)— Even  if  the  Spike  Jones'  records  weren't  as 
funny  as  they  are,  the  record  labels  are  full  of  laughs.  Right  on  the  black  and 
gold  label  it  says,  "  'Knock,  Knock'  vocal  by  Doodles  Weaver,  Sir  Frederick 
Gas,  George  Rock,  Freddy  Morgan  and  The  Four  Fifths."  The  back  is  "Ya 
Wanna  Buy  a  Bunny?" 

FRANK  SINATRA  (Columbia)— The  Voice  is  really  back  in  voice  with 
two  fine  songs  from  the  Broadway  show  "South  Pacific."  "Some  Enchanted 
Evening"  and  "Bali  Ha"  were  both  written  by  Rodgers  and  Hammerstein. 

BILL  LAWRENCE  (RCA  Victor)— Radio  Mirror's  "best  newcomer"  win- 
ner makes  an  auspicious  record  debut  with  "Dreamer  With  a  Penny"  and 
"I'm  Beginning  to  Miss  You" — the  latter  is  the  latest  Irving  Berlin  ballad. 

EDDY  HOWARD  (Mercury) — That  man  is  here  again.  Eddy's  version  of 
"Candy  Kisses"  is  sure  to  be  a  hit  record.  The  Howard  band  rarely  makes 
one  that  isn't  a   good  record. 


FACING  tlie  MUSIC 


(collector  6  L< 


orner 


By  ANDY  RUSSELL 


(Though  Andy's-  higgest-selling  rec- 
ords have  had  a  Latin  American  jeeling, 
he's  one  of  the  most  versatile  singers 
ever  to  grace  a  movie  screen,  night  club 
floor  or  radio  stage.  Young,  handsome 
and  married,  Andy  is  a  Capitol  Records 
star  and  is  presently  working  on  a  new 
night-cluh  "turn"  which  teams  him 
with  his  lovely  wife,  Delia.) 


Starting  my  musical  career  as  a 
drummer  in  a  dance  band  has  had  its 
effect  on  my  musical  taste,  as  anyone 
can  see  from  my  record  collection.  Be- 
ing married  to  Delia  has  also  had  an  in- 
fluence on  my  collection  of  recorded 
favorites.  That,  of  course,  is  because 
we  share  musical  tastes  that  are  almost 
exactly  alike.  While  I  enjoy  listening 
to  a  symphonic  concert,  I  prefer  to  re- 
strict my  collection  to  the  lighter  things, 
colored  a  bit  by  some  jazz  classics  that 
will  live  forever  in  the  world  of  music. 
Here's  my  list  of  favorite  records  and 
record  albums: 
J  "Lady  Be  Good"  by  Ella  Fitzgerald. 
I  I've  admired  Ella  from  the  time  she  was 
I  with  the  late  Chick  Webb's  band.  This 
disc  is,  to  me,  a  sensational  vocal  effort. 
"Begin  The  Beguine"  by  Artie  Shaw. 
That  was  a  band!  I  don't  know  that 
anyone  will  ever  equal  the  great  things 
that  were  recorded  by  Artie. 

"Marie"  by  Tommy  Dorsey.  I  feel 
that  this  was  made  during  the  greatest 
portion  of  Tommy's  musical  career.  The 
Jack  Leonard  and  group  vocal  chorus 
and  the  Bunny  Berrigan  trumpet  solo 
j  are  still  out  of  this  world. 

"Artistry  In  Rhythm"  by  Stan  Ken- 

!  ton.    This  is  one  of  the  earlier  Kenton 

discs  on  Capitol.    Stan  may  have  made 

better   things   since   then,    but   I'll   re- 

r  member  this. 

"Tenderly"  by  Randy  Brooks — I  don't 
think  that  Randy  has  ever  received  the 
attention  that  is  really  due  him.  His 
trumpet  work  is  excellent — and  that 
song!    A  wonderful  melody. 

"Holiday  For  Strings"  by  David  Rose. 

David,  to  me,  is  the  master  of  string 

orchestration.     That  man   can   get  the 

I  most  beautiful  sounds  out  of  a  violin 

I   section. 

"Cole  Porter  Review"  by  David  Rose. 
I  Now  it  must  be  obvious  that  I  like 
'  David  Rose  music!  Combining  those 
■  fine  arrangements  with  Cole  Porter's 
j  terrific  music  makes  a  super-terrific 
record  album. 

"Music  For  Dreaming"  by  Paul  Wes- 
ton— I've  admired  Paul's  arranging 
from  the  days  when  he  was  the  man 
behind  the  Tommy  Dorsey  Band. 


New  Improved  Pepsodent 
Sweeps  FILM  Away! 

Have  brighter  teeth  and  cleaner  breath  in  just  7  days 
or  Double  Your  Money  Back! 


Ron  the  fP  «*  ^«  j^  pery 

Vteeth.«YO«;-^,,,,PjUtM 


WHY  FILM  MUST  BE  REMOVED 

T.  FILM  collects  stains  that  make 

3.  FILM  glues  acid  to  your  teeth 

teeth  look  dull 

4.  FILM  never  lets  up  —  it  forms 

2.  FILM  harbors  germs  that  breed 

continually  on  everyone's 

bad  breath 

teeth 

Now  Faster  Foaming ! 
Make  this  7-Day  Pepsodent  Test! 

In  just  one  week,  new  improved  Pepsodent 
will  bring  a  thrilling  brightness  to  your  teeth, 
new  freshness  to  your  breath  — or  we'll  return 
twice  what  you  paid  ! 

New  Pepsodent  Tooth  Paste  foams  won- 
derfully—goes to  work  faster,  fighting  film 
and  its  harmful  effects:  (1)  Pepsodent  makes 
short  work  of  discoloring  stains  that  collect 
on  film.  (2)  It  routs  film's  "bad  breath" 
germs  that  cause  food  particles  to  decay. 
(3)  Pepsodent's  film-removing  action  helps 
protect  you  from  acid  produced  by  germs 
that  lurk  in  film.  This  acid,  many  dentists 
agree,  is  the  cause  of  tooth  decay.  (4)  Film 
forms  continually.  Remove  it  regularly  and 
quickly  with  Pepsodent. 

Try  New  Pepsodent  on  our  double-your- 
money-back  guarantee.  No  other  tooth  paste 
can  duplicate  Pepsodent's  film -removing 
formula !  No  other  tooth  paste  contains 
Irium  —  or  Pepsodent's  gentle  polishing 
agent.  For  the  safety  of  your  smile,  use  Pepsodent 
twice  a  day— see  your  dentist  twice  a  year. 


DOUBLE  YOUR 
MONEY  BACK! 


Use  New  Pepsodent  with  Irium 
for  just  7  days.  If  you're  not  com- 
pletely convinced  it  gives  you 
cleaner  breath  and  brighter  teeth, 
mail  unused  portion  of  tube  to 
Pepsodent,  Division  Lever  Bros. 
Co.  Dept.  G,  Chicago,  111. —and 
you'll  receive  double  your  money 
back,  plus  postage.  Oflfer  expires 
August  31,  1949. 


Another  fine  product  of  ^ 

Lever  Brothers  Company 

11 


Buzz  and  Bill  dress  in  their 
Gay  Nineties  best  for  special 
broadcasts  and  "in-persons." 


etMftMAi/rb 


Via  KDKA,  Buzz  and  Bill  sing  the 
old  favorites — sometimes  by  them- 
selves,   other    times    with    records. 


Special  features:  salutes  to  followers  of  the  Golden  Rule,  recog- 
nition   of   struggling   song   writers   of   the   United   Music    group. 


THERE  are  two  musical  jesters  in  Pittsburgh  who 
are  making  radio  history  at  KDKA  with  their 
forty-five-minute  Monday-through-Friday  show 
of  songs,  recordings  and  chatter.  On  the  airways 
they  are  known  as  Buzz  and  Bill  but  to  most  of 
their  listeners  they  are  easily  identifiable  as  Buzz 
Aston  and  Bill  Hinds  because,  though  still  in  their 
early  thirties,  they  are  already  radio  veterans.  Now, 
aided  by  the  pen  of  s-cripter  Sy  Bloom  and  the  stop 
watch  of  producer  Ev  Neill,  they  have  passed  an- 
other milestone  on  their  road  to  success. 

Gifted  with  good  singing  voices  and  a  flair  for 
things  dramatic,  they  are  perfectly  at  home  before 
a  mike  or  on  the  stage.  During  their  musical  jester 
routine  they  sing  tunes  with  special  lyrics  supplied 
by  Bloom;  intersperse  jokes  and  chatter  and,  when 
recordings  are  used,  sing  right  along  with  them  and 
wind  up  with  either  a  trio  or  a  quartet! 

Both  of  them  are  stars  in  their  own  right  on  local 
network  shows — Aston  as  singing  M.C.  on  Memory 
Time,  and  Hinds  as  singing  M.C.  on  Tap  Time. 
Aston  is  a  favorite  in  the  night  spots  as  a  singer 
in  addition  to  his  radio  work,  but  Hinds  has  had  to 
cut  down  on  his  personal  appearances  because  of 
his  many  studio  duties.  He  is  also  a  staff  announcer 
and  Brunchmaster  on  the  Brunch  with  Bill  noon- 
time variety  show. 

However,  they  can't  escape  making  some  per- 
sonal appearances.  And  it's  not  unusual  to  find 
them  doing  one-night  stands  in  Pennsylvania,  Ohio 
or  West  Virginia,  decked  out  in  Gay  Nineties  finery, 
singing  the  tunes  of  earlier  days. 


12 


i'^udd  ^J^odi 


ae6 


RUSS  HODGES  owes  his  career  to  a 
broken  ankle.  If  the  blond,  jovial 
Kentuckian  hadn't  suffered  this  mis- 
hap in  his  junior  year  at  the  University 
of  Kentucky,  he  would  not  today  be  one 
of  the  outstanding  sportscasters  in 
radio  and  television.  In  addition  to 
having  been  appointed  sportscaster  for 
the  N.  Y.  Giants  baseball  team,  Hodges 
is  heard  and  seen  in  his  popular  Russ 
Hodges  Scoreboard  program  over 
WABD  and  the  DuMont  Television 
network  (Mondays  through  Fridays, 
6:45  P.M.  EDT).  He's  also  heard  on 
the  MBS  program,  Russ  Hodges'  Quiz 
Show,  Saturdays  at  5  P.M.  EDT. 

Hodges  got  that  broken  ankle  in  a 
football  scrimmage  at  the  U.  of  Ken- 
tucky in  1931.  Forced  out  of  the  college 
games,  Russ  was  assigned  to  be  the 
"spotter"  for  the  announcer  who  re- 
ported games  over  WCKY,  Lexington, 
Ky.  While  in  the  booth  identifying  the 
plays  and  players,  Russ  was  inter- 
viewed by  the  announcer.  And  that  did 
it.  He  completed  that  year  of  college, 
but  never  reported  for  his  senior  year. 
He  went  into  radio  and  has  been  there 
ever  since. 

Russ's  first  radio  job  was  as  a  staff 
announcer  for  WCKY.  He  opened  the 
station  at  7  A.M.  and  until  1  P.M.  did 
everything  in  the  studio,  including 
sweeping.  He  also  had  complete  charge 
of  all  sporting  activities  of  the  studio. 

After  two  years  of  this  routine,  Russ 
applied  for  a  job  as  a  sportscaster  for 
WHBF,  Rock  Island,  111.  He  applied  by 
mail  and  was  hired  by  phone.  Here  he 
did  a  daily  baseball  stint,  a  daily  "man 
in  the  street"  interview,  as  well  as  five 
hours  daily  on  the  announcing  staff.  In 
January,  1935,  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
three,  Hodges  moved  to  WIND,  Chi- 
cago, for  a  full  sports  schedule  handling 
all  major  events. 

"Wheaties"  took  Hodges  out  of  Chi- 
cago in  1940  and  set  him  down  in 
Charlotte,  N.  C,  where,  for  one  year, 
he  was  sports  director  of  the  CBS 
affiliate,  WBT,  doing  most  of  his  broad- 
casts from  telegraphic  reports,  a  tough 
assignment.  In  1941,  Hodges  moved  to 
Washington,  where  he  landed  his  first 
network  assignment  as  sportscaster  for 
Mutual.  Then  in  1946,  Russ  was  sum- 
moned to  New  York  to  assist  Mel  Allen 
in  the  New  York  Yankee  baseball  and 
pro  football  coverage.  It  was  his  good 
work  on  these  stints  that  landed  him 
the  N.  Y.  Giants  contract. 

Russ  is  married  and  has  a  fifteen- 
year-old  son,  Patrick  and  an  eight- 
year-old  daughter,  Judy. 


<A  8  ofePock  'y^  "rt^^  mofning] 


/,  "For  a  busy  day,  I  love  my  chic  en- 
semble in  contrasting  woolens  with  its 
matching  bonnet.  And,  of  course,  I  rely 
on  gentler,  even  more  effective  Odorono 
Cream  .  .  .  because  I  know  it  protects  me 
from  perspiration  and  odor  a  full  24  hoursP^ 

New  Odorono  Cream  brings  you  an  im- 
proved new  formula  in  a  bright  new  pack- 
age. Stays  creamy  smooth  too  .  .  .  even  if 
you  leave  the  cap  off  for  weeks! 


2,  "For  a  brilliant  evening,  I  remove  the 
jacket  and  hat,  and  presto!  My  dress  turns 
into  a  new  off-the-shoulder  formal!  I'm 
confident  of  my  charm  all  evening,  too, 
thanks  to  new  Odorono  Cream  .  .  .  because 
I  find  it  gives  me  the  most  effective  protection 
Tve  ever  knoicn!" 


It  never  harms  fine  fabrics,  and  is  so 
gentle  you  can  use  it  right  after  shaving! 
You'll  find  it  the  perfect  deodorant. 


onj    odor  Q  IjjiGJ  24  fcrtxfs! 


{Now  in  new  25^  and  50^  sizes,  plus  tax) 


R 
m 

13 


The  Bob  Crosbys  promised  Cathy  a  treat  after  her  appear- 
ance on  Uncle  Bing's  program — dinner  at  the  Brown  Derby. 


By   DALE  BANKS 


Aulograph-seekers  staged  a  record  stampede 
for  Anna  Roosevelt's  signature  when  she  was 
a  gnest  on  Art  Linkletter's  House  Party  show. 


Marion  Jordan — better  known  as  Molly  Mc- 
Gee — -tried  a  new  field  when  she  starred  with 
Jim — better  known  as  Fibber — on  Suspense. 


R 

m 

14 


SIXTEEN  top  radio  actors  in  Hollywood,  headed  by- 
Cathy  and  Elliott  Lewis,  Lurene  Tuttle,  Bill 
Thompson  and  Herbert  Rawlinson,  have  formed 
Radio  Actors'  Institute,  which  will  hold  classes  in 
radio  and  television  on  a  regular  schedule  for  be- 
ginners. Stars  mentioned  will  lecture  as  guest 
instructors. 

*  *         * 

There's  so  much  gloomy  news  these  days  about 
sponsors  cutting  budgets  for  radio  and  cutting 
salaries  that  it's  nice  to  hear  this  kind  of  info.  A 
new  comedy  show  being  built  as  a  summer  replace- 
ment feature  has  a  writing  budget  alone  of  $1,500 
a  week.  And  that  will  be  for  a  sustaining  feature. 
Until  video  can  match  prices  like  these,  radio's 
bound  to  stay  pretty  healthy. 

*  *         * 

Nancy  Craig,  ABC  women's  commentator,  received 
a  volunteer  service  award  recently  from  Dr.  H. 
Claude  Hardy,  vice-president  of  the  Save  the  Chil- 
dren Federation,  for  conducting  a  "best-dressed 
doll"  contest  on  her  show  with  entries  going  to 
children  in  little  country  schools  sponsored  through 
the  Federation.  Mrs.  Kay  Entricken  of  New  York 
City  won  first  prize  for  designing  and  sewing  the 
gown  for  the  doll  Nancy  is  shown  holding  in  the  pic- 
ture on  the  opposite  page.  As  a  result  of  the  contest, 
the  Federation  received  more  than  1,500  dolls  from 
Nancy's  listeners,  and  the  contest  promises  to  be- 
come a  yearly  event. 

The  Save  the  Children  Federation  is  a  national 
child  service  organization,  serving  children  in  rural 
areas  of  nine  states  and  on  the  Navajo  Indian  Reser- 
vation. In  Europe  it  helps  needy  children  in  Austria, 
Finland,  France,  Holland  and  Greece,  according  to 
Dr.  Hardy. 


ABC's  Nancy  Craig  accepts  a  volunteer  service  award  from  Dr.  H.  Claude  Hardy,  vice-president  of  the  Save 
The  Children  Federation.  Nancy  conducted  a  contest,  got  fifteen  hundred  dolls  for  the  Federation's  work. 


\m  COAST  TO  COAST 


The  Federation  is  at  present  conducting  a  nation- 
wide appeal  for  $100,000  to  help  Navajo  Indian 
children  following  the  most  terrible  winter  in  the 
history  of  their  Reservation.  Half  of  all  these  chil- 
dren die  before  they  are  six  years  old,  even  in 
ordinary  times.  And  as  Will  Rogers,  Jr.,  chairman 
of  the  Federation's  appeal,  says,  "When  an  act  of 
God  happens,  they  get  it  doubled  in  spades." 

Kudos  to  Dee  Engelbach,  round-faced,  cherubic 
producer-director  of  Hallmark  Playhouse,  one  of 
Hollywood's  ablest  and  most  versatile  radio  pro- 
ducers. Dee  is  a  perfectionist,  and  because  he  pre- 
pared for  his  career  by  understudying  and  learning 
the  duties  of  the  many  specialists  who  combine  to 
make  up  any  broadcast,  he  can  deliver  the  com- 
mercials, operate  the  control  board,  plot  the  thematic 
music,  or  coach  the  guest  stars  in  acting  techniques. 
Proof  that  he  is  one  of  the  top  men  in  his  field  today 
lies  in  the  comments  of  such  accomplished  stars  as 
Gregory  Peck,  Irene  Dunne  and  Joan  Fontaine.  They 
say  that  Engelbach  exhorts  them  to  performances 
that  they  didn't  think  themselves  capable  of  deliver- 
ing. In  fact,  Joan  Fontaine  was  so  impressed  by  him 
that  she  has  requested  him  as  her  director  for  her 
next  picture. 

*         *         * 

Influence  of  radio  note  .  .  .  Stop  the  Music  is 
credited  with  inspiring  a  prominent  specialist  at  a 
New  York  hospital  to  play  a  similar  game  with  his 
Saturday  morning  pathology  class.  During  the  lec- 
ture, slides  are  shown  on  a  screen  and  students  are 
asked  to  identify  them  rapidly.  When  a  student  sees 
one  he  recognizes,  he  shouts  "Stop  the  slide!"  Quiz 
scores  are  tallied  at  the  end  of  the  session  with 
prizes  for  the  best  results.     (Continued  on  page  22) 


Actor  Charles  Tranum's  new  hat  causes  con- 
siderable comment.  Complete  with  earphones, 
tubes,   aerial,    the   weird   headgear's    a    radio! 


15 


Howard  "Farmer"  Jones  helps  his  wife  air  WFIL's  Mary  Jones  show. 


JUST  PIA 
JONES 


As  A  NAME,  Mary  Jones  is  plain — plain  as 
a  name  can  be.  But  as  a  personality,  the 
1  Mary  Jones  who  is  heard  Mondays 
through  Fridays  from  1:30  to  2  P.M.  over 
WFIL,  Philadelphia,  is  anything  but  ordinary. 

This  versatile  commentator  is  recognized  as 
one  of  the  best  cooks  in  Pennsylvania — and 
cans  her  own  home-grown  fruit  and  vege- 
tables besides. 

However,  Mary's  interests  are  not  limited 
to  the  kitchen.  She's  the  author  of  several 
beoks  and  has  written  articles  for  home- 
making  magazines  such  as  House  Beautiful 
and  House  and  Garden.  She  collects  early 
American  furniture  and  has  remodeled  and 
redecorated  six  Pennsylvania  Dutch  farm- 
houses, one  of  which  serves  as  a  home  where 
she  and  her  husband,  WFIL  M.C.  Howard 
Jones,  raise  White  Chester  hogs,  and  the 
property  has  become  a  Montgomery  County 
showplace  as  "Whifiletree  Farm." 

Another  of  Mary's  hobbies  is  the  collection 
of  Gaudy  Welch  china.  In  addition,  she  quali- 
fies as  an  expert  landscape  architect,  special- 
izing in  old-fashioned  gardens.  As  though 
this  weren't  enough,  Mary  also  has  managed 
to  combine  motherhood — and,  more  recently, 
grandmother-hood — with  her   career. 

Her  own  grandfather  owned  a  newspaper 
in  the  same  city  and  his  articles,  written  dur- 
ing his  walking  trips,  are  reprinted  periodi- 
cally in  the  Allentown  Call. 

Mary  herself  was  educated  at  Miss  Say- 
ward's  School  and  Moravian  College.  She 
also  attended  Miss  Green's  School  for  home- 
makers  in  Boston. 

On  the  air,  she  becomes  completely 
wrapped  up  in  her  work — so  much  so,  in  fact, 
that  husband  Howard  frequently  has  to  come 
to  the  rescue  in  order  to  get  the  program  off 
the  air  in  tirne  for  the  station  break.  Her 
years  of  experience  on  CBS  and  the  Yankee 
Network  failed  to  miake  a  clock-watcher  out 
of  her,  but  they  did  help  her  to  attain  the 
delivery  and  timing  which  contrihute  to 
making  her  broadcasts  so  easy  on  the  ear. 


Mary  Jones's   "work"   includes   interviewing   such   famous    personalities   as   bandleader   Paul    Whiteman. 


16 


What  makes  YOU  tick? 


John  McCaffery,  who  asks  the  questions 
on  What  Makes  You  Tick?  (CBS,  2:45 
P.M.  EDT,  Mon.-Fri.)  has  prepared 
another  special  set  of  questions  to 
help  Radio  Mirror  readers  delve  into 
their  subconscious  minds.  "How  Ac- 
commodating Are  You?"  is  the  question 
this  column  will  answer,  when  you've 
added  up  your  score. 


I.   Do    you    readily   give   the   -Hme    of 
day  to  strangers  who  stop  you  on 
the   street   to   ask   you   for   it? 
.2.   Do     you     automatically     offer     to 
light   your   friends'    cigarettes? 

3.  When  your  wife  or  sweetheart 
asks  you  to  go  with  her  to  help 
her  select  a  new  coot  or  hat,  do 
you    do    it   willingly? 

4.  Are  you  in  the  habit  of  giving 
your  seat  on  the  bus  or  subway 
to  women? 

5.  Would  you  try  to  explain  a  movie 
to  a  child  sitting  next  to  you  in 
a   theater   if   he    asked    you? 

6.  Do    you     lend    your    car    readily? 

7.  Do  you  wash  the  dishes  and  other- 
wise offer  to  help  clean  up  after 
eating    at   a   friend's   house? 

8.  Do  you  willingly  take  telephone 
messages  for  people  who  don't 
mean   anything   to   you? 

9.  When  you  are  at  a  late  party  do 
you,  OS  a  rule,  offer  to  give  a  lift 
to  other  people  there,  although 
you  know  they  may  live  in  an 
opposite  direction  from  yours? 

10.  If  a  friend  of  yours  was  invited 
to  a  party  and  had  no  girl  to  take 
would  you  accommodate  him  by 
lending  him  your  wife  or  sweet- 
heart  for   the    evening? 


Yes    No 


D 

D 

D 

D 

D 

D 

D 

a 

D 

D 

D 

D 

D 

D 

D 

D 

D     D 


D   n 


Give  yourself  10  points  for  every  yes  an- 
swer. 0  through  30  points  might  suggest 
more  than  u  little  selfishness  on  your  part. 
Being  accommodating  is  largely  a  matter 
of  habit  and  like  other  habits  sometintes 
has  to  be  cultivated.  40  through  80  is 
^vhere  most  of  us  fall  and  80  and  above 
might  suggest  that  you  let  people  take 
advantage  of  you.  However,  it  might  sug- 
gest, too,  certain  feelings  of  insecurity  on 
your  part.  We  have  all  met  people  who  kill 
^vith  kindness  and  if  you  are  one  of  these 
it  might  be  wise  for  you  to  take  stock  of 
yourself  and  try  to  determine  why  you 
feel  that  you  must  he  overly  nice  in  order 
to  hold  your  friends. 


1  here  is  no  name 
more  famous  for  flavor 

than  Beech-Nut . . . 


^t^> 


"^^  ^~^i^^ 
^%^^^ 


ci^f^ 


lere  is  no  chewing 
gum  more  dependable  for 
fine  flavor  and  uniform 
high  quality  than . . . 

Beech-Nut 
GUM 


Beech-Nut  BEECHIES,  the 

Candy  Coated CHewingGum 
in  three  varieties : 

PEPPERMINT.  PEPSIN 
and  SPEARMINT 


R 

M 

17 


GoW 


OCKS 


«n^ti. 


% 


NCE  upon  a  time  Goldi- 
locks was  out  buying 
her  silverplate  and  she 
came  to  a  store  that  showed 
her  three  spoons.  One  spoon 
was  an  ordinary  spoon  with  no 
form  of  wear  protection  at  all. 


^ee  S 


poons 


HE  next  spoon  she  saw 

f      was  one  of  the  extra- 

Jl      plated   kinds.   But   the 

third  spoon  was  something  extra 

special.  It  had  these    \\  i  M//,*  ' '  Uy 


\    fli 


HERE  AND  HERE 
It's  Sterling  Inlaid 

'*■    'HE    INIERNATIONA.I    SIlVjl 


18 


THE  LOVELIEST  SILVERPLATE 

IS  STERLING  INLAID! 

Whether  your  choice  is  Youth, 
Danish  Princess,  Lovely  Lady 
or  the  New  Spring  Garden, 
there  is  no  lovelier,  no  finer 
silverplate  at  any  price.  52 
piece  service  for  8  is  $68.50. 
All  patterns  made  in  the  U.S.A. 


^SPECIAL  INTRODUCTORY 
^  OFFER!  4  F/V£  O'CLOCK  Mk- 
SPOONS  FOR  ONLY  $1.89. 
These  lovely  spoons  in  the  new 
Spring  Garden  Design  are 
ideal  for  desserts,  ice  cream 
ond  sherbet.  At  all  jewelry 
and  department  stores  for  a 
';  limited  time  only. 


^y^ian  i\eed 


Copyright  1949,  The  International  Silver  Co..  Holmes  i  Umis  DIv.,  Merlden,  Conn.  Sold  in  Canada  by:  The  T.  Eaton  Co.,  Ltd.  °Rec.  U.  S.  Pat.  Off. 


Pasquale    of    Life    With    Luigi, 
CBS  Sunday  nights,  10:00  EDT. 


ALAN  REED,  who  plays  the  role  of 
Pasquale  on  Life  With  Luigi  (CBS, 
Sundays,  at  10  P.M.,  EDT),  has 
done  spots  on  virtually  every  radio  pro- 
gram in  New  York  and  Hollywood,  in- 
cluding a  dozen  or  more  daytime 
serials.  His  best  known  roles  have  been 
Falstaff  Openshaw,  poet,  on  the  Fred 
Allen  Show,  Clancy  the  cop  on  Duffy's 
Tavern  and  Mr.  Weamish  on  the  Baby 
Snooks  Show.  Today  his  voice  is  heard 
in  twenty-two  dialects  on  almost  all  of 
the  major  shows. 

Alan  Reed  was  born  in  New  York  and 
started  his  preparations  for  the  theater 
during  grammar  school  days  when,  as 
Shylock  in  "The  Merchant  of  Venice," 
he  caught  his  beard  in  the  stage  door. 
Quick  thinking  made  him  play  it  for 
comedy.  And  he's  been  playing  it  that 
way  ever  since. 

After  extracting  as  much  humor  as 
he  could  from  prep  school.  Reed  moved 
his  210  pounds  to  Columbia  University, 
where  he  became  the  intercollegiate 
broad-jumping  champion.  He  also  be- 
came a  championship  wrestler  and  a 
writer  of  college  plays,  just  to  prove 
that  a  brawny  arm  could  swing  a  deli- 
cate pen. 

Reed  considered  this  good  training 
for  the  theater  and,  when  he  finished 
school,  he  took  a  job  in  an  Oklahoma 
City  stock  company.  That  lasted  three 
weeks.  Next  he  was  with  the  Province- 
town  Players  in  a  cycle  of  sea  plays  by 
Eugene  O'Neill,  the  samie  plays  which 
later  were  made  into  the  movie,  "Long 
Voyage  Home."  After  that  he  tried  a 
whirl  behind  the  scenes  as  manager 
and  production  chief  of  the  New  Play- 
wright's Theater,  a  little  theater  job 
which  included  everything  from  shift- 
ing scenery  to  shifting  lines. 

This  was  good  experience,  but  little 
theater  work  didn't  pay  very  well,  so 
Reed  took  to  the  vaudeville  boards. 
Trouping,  he  saved  a  stake  of  $2,800  and 
tried  the  candy  business  and  the  gym- 
nasium business  in  quick  succession. 

About  the  time  that  radio  began  to 
emerge  from  the  crystal  set  stage.  Reed 
began  haunting  the  broadcasting 
studios  and  found  his  services  in  great 
demand.  He  has  acted  in  radio  ex- 
clusively ever  since— with  the  excep- 
tion of  a  role  as  an  immigrant  in  the 
Broadway  play,  "Hope  for  a  Harvest," 
which  starred  Fredric  March  and 
Florence  Eldridge,  just  before  the  war 
— and  listeners  are  glad  of  it. 


RutL  p. 


erro 


tt 


Katie  of  My  Favorite  Hu^l^all(l, 
CBS,    Fri.,    8:30    P.M.    EDT. 


RUTH  PERROTT,  of  the  Lucille  Ball 
show,  My  Favorite  Husband  (CBS, 
Friday  at  8:30  P.M.,  EDT),  keeps 
pleading  with  producers  to  cast  her  in 
dramatic  parts,  but  all  she  gets  is  an- 
other prize  comedy  part  like  Katie. 

Born  in  Minneapolis,  Minnesota,  and 
raised  in  Grand  Forks,  N.  D.,  Ruth  has 
a  long  theatrical  background.  During 
their  school  years,  she  and  her  brother, 
Richard,  did  a  lot  of  home  entertaining. 
While  at  the  University  of  North  Da- 
kota, Ruth  wrote  a  one-act  play  titled 
"Sacrifice,"  which  won  the  Arneberg 
prize. 

In  1920,  Ruth  went  to  New  York, 
ostensibly  to  visit  her  brother  at  West 
Point,  but  actually  with  her  mind  made 
up  to  try  acting.  By  sheer  tenacity,  she 
got  a  part  in  a  hit  which  starred  Mitzi 
Hajos.  After  the  run  of  that  show,  she 
joined  the  original  "Blossom  Time." 
In  June  of  1923,  she  left  the  show  to 
marry  George  St.  John  Perrott,  grand- 
son of  Sir  Edmond  Thomas  Perrott  of 
Stratford,  England. 

Perrott  was  head  of  the  Bureau  of 
Mines  in  Pittsburgh,  so  the  Perrotts 
lived  in  the  smoky  city  for  eight  years. 
During  that  period,  Ruth  attended  the 
Carnegie  Institute  of  Technology  and 
won  a  B.A.  degree  in  drama,  meanwhile 
making  her  debut  in  stock,  playing  one 
season  with  the  George  Sharp  Players. 

In  1933,  Perrott  became  an  economist 
for  the  Roosevelt  Administration  and 
the  Perrotts  moved  to  Washington 
where  Ruth  joined  that  city's  Civic 
Theatre  and  appeared  in  dramatic  roles. 
She  also  continued  writing,  again  win- 
ning a  prize  for  a  one-act  drama. 

The  summer  of  1937  found  her  play- 
ing stock  in  Westport,  Conn,  and  Mount 
Kisco,  N.  Y.  That  same  year  she  audi- 
tioned for  Cavalcade  of  America  in 
New  York  and  became  a  regular  mem- 
ber of  the  cast.  Following  separation 
from  her  husband  in  1943,  Ruth  left  for 
Hollywood. 

There,  Ruth,  now  wise  to  radio,  made 
a  recording  on  which  she  portrayed 
twenty  different  characters  and  voices. 
She  played  it  for  various  directors  and 
soon  had  regular  calls  for  many  shows, 
including  such  standbys  as  Stars  Over 
Hollywood  and  One  Man's  Family. 

The  titian-haired,  blue  eyed  actress 
has  one  thing  in  common  with  the  maid 
she  portrays  on  My  Favorite  Husband 
— she  makes  the  best  lemon  meringue 
pie  in  Hollywood.  She  lives  in  a  hill- 
side house  where  she  raises  her  own 
vegetables  and  fruit  trees  and  during 
her  spare  moments,  she's  studying  radio 
writing  at  Hollywood  High  School. 


loniglit!.. Show  him  how  much  iovehei 
your  hair  can  look... alter  a 


NOT    A    SOAP!    NOT    A    LIQUID! 

BUT    KAY    DAUMIT'S    RICH    LATHERING 

CREAM    SHAMPOO    WITH    LANOLIN 

for  Soft,  Shimmering 
Glamorous  Hair 


^-*5- 


J 


4-oz.  jar  $1;  lO-oz.  economy  size  S2. 
Smaller  jar.s  and  tubes  49"'  and  25il. 


No  other  shampoo  gives  you  the  same 
magical  secret-blend  lather  plus  kindly 
LANOLIN  . . .  for  true  hair  beauty. 

Tonight  he  can  SEE  new  sheen  in  your  hair,  FEEL  its 
caressablesoftness,THRILLto  its  glorious  natural  beau  tv. 
Yes,  tonight,  if  you  use  Lustre-Creme  Shampoo  todav ! 

Only  Lustre-Creme  has  Kav  Daumit's  magic  blend 
of  secret  ingredients /?/«5  gentle  lanolin.  This  glamoriz- 
ing shampoo  lathers  in  hardest  water.  Leaves  hair 
fragrantly  clean,  shining,  free  of  loose  dandruff  and 
so  soft,  so  manageable ! 

Famous  hairdressers  use  and  recommend  it  for 
shimmering  beauty  in  all  "hair-dos"  and  permanents. 
Beauty-wise  women  made  it  America's  favorite  cream 
shampoo.  Try  Lustre-Creme!  The  man  in  your  life — 
and  you — will  love  the  loveliness  results  in  your  hair. 


Your  loveliness 
is  Doubly  Safe 


Vet©  gives  you 

Double 

Protection! 


ci^^^^^^ 


Veto  guards  your  loveliness  night  and 
day — safely  protects  your  clothes  and  you.  For  Veto  not  only 
neutralizes  perspiration  odor,  it  checks  perspiration,  too !  Yes, 
Veto  gives  you  Double  Protection !  And  Veto  disappears  instantly 
to  protect  you  from  the  moment  you  apply  it! 


Always  creamy  and  smooth 
. . .  lovely  to  use! 


ocyaed^ 


)(y  t^^^fi'C^  .  .  .  Always  creamy  and  smooth.  Veto  is  lovely 

to  use  and  keeps  you  lovely.  And  Veto  is  gentle,  safe  for  normal 
skin,  safe  for  clothes.  Doubly  Safe!  Veto  alone  contains 
Duratex,  Colgate's  exclusive  ingredient  to  make  Veto  safer. 
Let  Veto  give  your  loveliness  double  protection! 


Veto  lasts  and  lasts  from  hath  to  hath! 


» 


The    Ericksons — Carl,    1.,    Ivena,    r. — have    three    children:    Bonnie,    5, 
Dennis,  who  will  be  1  on  June  6,  and  Carolyne  Sue   (not  pictured),  9. 


mm 


^m0h 


ONE  of  the  best  known  radio  personalities  in  Mid- 
western United  States  is  now  one  of  the  best 
known  voices  in  Western  New  York.  Carl  Erick- 
son  has  worked  on  nearly  a  dozen  stations  in  Illinois, 
Indiana,  Ohio  and  Michigan  since  he  first  led  his  high 
school  band  over  WIND,  Gary,  Ind.  Now,  as  the  6  A.M. 
Esso  Reporter,  he  broadcasts  for  WBEN,  Buffalo. 

The  studious-appearing  Carl  was  a  part-time  an- 
nouncer at  WIND  during  his  high  school  days  and 
can't  remember  when  he  wanted  to  do  anything  but 
radio  work.  In  fact,  he  "married"  into  radio.  He 
wooed  the  lovely  Ivena  Wright — a  radio  actress  and 
secretary  to  the  farm  director  of  WLW  when  Carl  was 
ne\vscasting  there — in  the  studios  of  WLW,  Cincinnati, 
and  married  her  two  weeks  after  their  first  meeting. 

Midwest  listeners  may  know  the  versatile  Carl  as 
Carl  Andrews  or  as  Nobel  Nash.  His  first  middle 
name  is  Andrews  and  he  took  the  name  of  Carl 
Andrews  while  a  disc  jockey  at  WLW.  He  was  known 
as  Nobel  Nash  in  Springfield,  Illinois,  in  1938. 

Erickson  was  born  in  La  Porte,  Ind.,  and  began 
part-time  announcing  and  dramatics  at  WSBT  in 
South  Bend,  Ind.  The  urge  to  rove  landed  him  at 
WHBF,  Rock  Island,  111.,  and  a  matter  of  months  later, 
he  was  on  the  staff  of  WROK,  Rockford,  111. 

He  went  back  to  WIND  as  news  editor,  then  in 
rapid  succession  he  transferred  to  WCVS,  Springfield, 
then  WAOV,  WOW  and  his  last  stop  before  Detroit 
was  Cincinnati's  mighty  WLW.  He  joined  WW  J  in 
the  fall  of  1942  and  then  transferred  to  WBEN. 

Now  that  he  must  arise  shortly  after  4  A.M.,  he 
likes  to  recall  one  of  his  favorite  bits  of  humor  by  an 
anonymous  poet: 

No  fame  I  crave,  before  my  eye 

A  simpler  goal  I  keep: 

I  hope  just  once  before  I  die 

To  get  sufficient  sleep. 


When  Dennis  was  born,  poetess 
Ann  Campbell  dedicated  a  poem 
to  him,  published  it  in  news- 
papers throughout  the  country. 


21 


% 


i^m- 


^.f^" 


4( 


...because  HOLD- BOBS 
really  ho/d  The  perfection  of 

this  beauty  is  assured  because 
those  perfect  curls  are  formed 

and  held  in  place  gently,  yet 
so  very  securely,  by  this 
truly  superior  bobby  pin. 
There  is  nothing  finer. 

More  women  use  ^ 
HOLD-BOBS 
than  all  other 
bobby  pins  combined 


S?*'"*' 


^^o«6  \ms>H( 


T   M    REG. 

0.  S.  PAT,  OFF. 


e^t;^ 


\0*  rtOV.» 


bo« 


22 


HOLD-BOB*  is  a  GAYLA*  hair  beauty  aid 

Ol*4»     OAYLORO     PRODUCTS,     INCORPORATED,   CHICAOO.   ILL. 


WHAT'S   NEW   FROM   COAST  to   COAST 


{Continued  from  page  15) 


Janette  Davis  may  call  Arthur  God- 
frey "boss"  on  his  program,  but  in  her 
home  town,  Pine  Bluff,  Ark.,  she  out- 
ranks Godfrey.  Mayor  George  Ham- 
mond Steed  has  named  Janette  Hon- 
orary Mayor  of  Pine  Bluff  and,  as  her 
first  official  duty,  assigned  the  song- 
stress to  appoint  Godfrey  Honorary 
First  Citizen  of  the  town. 

*  *  * 

Just  to  show  you  how  easy  it  is  to 
start  something,  Junior  Miss  writers 
Henry  Garson  and  Robert  Soderberg 
report  that  when  they  had  one  of  their 
fluffy  adolescent  characters  state  as  a 
gag  in  the  script  that  she  had  painted 
her  fingernails  down  to  the  first 
knuckle,  the  gag  boomeranged.  A  na- 
tional magazine  wanted  to  photograph 
the  new  fad,  three  girls'  clubs  an- 
nounced that  they  had  adopted  the  style, 
and  several  dozen  indignant  parents  de- 
luged the  writers  with  protests  against 
putting   ideas   like   that   in   the   young 

'uns'  heads. 

*  *         * 

There's  one  young  man  in  California 
who  can  hardly  wait  for  this  June  and 
commencement  at  UCLA  to  be  over. 
He's  twenty-four-year-old  Paul  Levitt, 
who's  studying  train  schedules  already 
in  preparation  for  a  hurry-up  trip  to 
New  York  as  soon  as  he's  finished  his 
studies  at  the  University.  When 
Fletcher  Markle  was  in  Hollywood  last 
Soring,  he  spotted  Levitt  in  a  campus 
play  and  hired  him  on  the  spot  to  play 
a  bit  role  in  one  of  the  Ford  Theater 
scripts.  Levitt  was  so  good  that  he  was 
immediately  signed  to  play  another  oart 
in  a  subsequent  show  and,  after  that, 
was  invited  by  Markle  to  come  to  New 
York  as  soon  as  he  could  because  there 
would  always  be  work  for  him  there. 
Give  him  a  helping  wish,  will  you? 

Raids  or  no  raids,  it  looks  as  though 
Phil  Harris  and  his  NBC  show  will  stay 
where  they  are.  Phil  has  signed  with 
sponsor  and  network  to  remain  at  least 
through   1950. 

^  4:  :fc 

Jimmy  Durante  has  an  "Ulcer  Room" 
in  his  new  house  in  Beverly  Hills.  It's 
so  named  because  it's  the  room  where 
the  writers  of  Jimmy's  show  gather  to 
work  and  sweat  with  Jimmy  and  Phil 
Cohan  four  days  a  week  to  turn  out  the 
script.  It's  nice  that  they  can  all  joke 
about  ulcers  like  that.  Ourselves,  we 
can't  think  of  anything  better  guar- 
anteed to  bring  them  on  than  having 
to  dream  up  a  first  rate  comedy  show, 

once  a  week,  week  after  week! 

*  *  * 

Boy  Scout  motto  to  the  contrary, 
Dorothy  Lovett,  who  plays  Jan  Carter 
on  The  Guiding  Light,  earned  her  first 
radio  job  because  she  was  unprepared. 
Called  for  an  audition  and  lacking 
suitable  material,  Dorothy  read  an  ar- 
ticle from  a  woman's  magazine — and 
landed  a  job  conducting  a  radio  cooking 

school. 

*  *  * 

Alan  Hewitt,  who  plays  Ken  Martin- 
son in  This  Is  Nora  Drake,  is  doubling 
on  the  Broadway  stage  these  days,  earn- 
ing big  applause  for  his  performance  in 
"Death  of  a  Salesman." 

*  *         * 

Recently,  Johnny  Long  writes  us,  he 
was  in  a  telephone  booth,  sending  a 
congratulatory  telegram  to  a  friend 
who  was  opening  on  Broadway.  After 
dictating  the  text  of  the  wire,  Johnny 
added,  "And  sign  it  Mayor  William 
O'Dwyer."     The    operator    gasped    and 


said  it  wasn't  permissible  to  use  the 
name.  "It's  only  a  gag,"  Johnny  said, 
"they'll  know  who  really  sent  it."  But 
the  operator  was  adamant,  so  Johnny 
gave  in  and  said,  "Okay  then,  sign  it 
Johnny  Long."  The  voice  with  the  smile 
was  firm.  "I'm  sorry,  sir,  that's  just  as 
bad.  You  can't  use  that  name  either. 
Why  don't  you  sign  your  own  name?" 
In  the  end  Johnny  had  to  give  up  and 
send  the  telegram  from  his  home. 

*  *         * 

Congratulations  to  Arthur  Heinemann 
on  his  selling  two  short  stories  to  na- 
tional magazines  recently.  Deserves 
special  notice,  because  Arthur,  a  swell 
fellow  to  know,  has  for  years  been  a 
reader  of  other  people's  stories,  first  for 
a  publishing  firm,  later  for  several 
movie  companies  and,  at  present  his  job 
is  to  sift  through  CBS  scripts  with  an 
eye  out  for  material  that  can  be  trans- 
formed into  television  and  motion  pic- 
ture material.  It's  nice  to  think  that 
now  someone  else  will  be  reading  his 
stories  and  reporting  on  them  to  the 
movie  companies. 

*  *         * 

If  you're  a  quiz  fiend,  keep  an  eye  on 
the  bookstands.  They'll  soon  be  carry- 
ing a  Winner  Take  All  Quiz  Book, 
to  be  authored  by  Bill  Todman  and 
Mark  Goodson,  producers  of  the  CBS 
show  .  .  .  Another  radio  producer  turn- 
ing author  is  Addison  Smith,  who  pro- 
duces and  directs  the  What  Makes  You 
Tick?  program.  He's  writing  a  book 
on  the  radio  game  and  what  it  has 
taught  him  about  psychology. 

*  *         * 

Ticket  demand  for  the  five-hundred 
mile  Indianapolis  Speedway  Race  to  be 
held  on  Memorial  Day,  already  exceeds 
last  year's  record  advance  sale.  The 
thrilling  event  will  again  be  brought  to 
radio  listeners  in  four  sponsored  broad- 
casts, taking  in  the  full  race,  on  MBS. 
Bill  Slater  heads  the  ace  announcers 
corralled  for  the  broadcasts. 

*  *         * 

Scattered  news  of  summer  plans  is 
filtering  in,  some  of  it  set,  some  of  it 
still  in  the  rumor,  dicker  class,  but 
here's  what  we've  got  ....  Alan  Young 
reported  to  be  on  the  verge  of  signing 
to  do  a  personal  appearance  tour  in  his 
native  Canada  when  his  air  shows  take 
their  summer  vacation  ....  Jim  Haw- 
thorne, whose  zany  disc  jockey  show 
on  ABC  came  to  an  untimely  end,  is 
being  considered  by  CBS  in  a  new  and 
more  sane  format  for  a  summer  re- 
placement feature  ....  Meredith  Will- 
son  will  probably  conduct  the  San 
Francisco  symphony  during  its  summer 
season  of  concerts  on  NBC's  Standard 
Hour  series,  as  he  did  for  thirteen  weeks 
last  year  ....  Bob  Hope  may  take  a 
trip  to  visit  Army  and  Navy  installa- 
tions in  Japan  following  the  close  of 
his  air  season  this  summer  ....  Guy 
Lombardo's  shows  will  be  transcribed 
in  advance,  so  the  m.aestro  can  give  his 
full  time  to  speedboat  racing  in  mid- 
summer and  the  boys  in  the  band  can 
enjoy  their  annual  five  weeks'  paid 
vacation  .  .  .  .  Al  Jolson  will  spend  his 
summer  vacation  entertaining  U.  S. 
troops  abroad. 

^  ^  ^ 

Gossip  and  Stuff  .  .  .  Jean  Hersholt 
returns  to  the  screen  in  a  George  Jessel 
production  for  20th  Century-Fox— ten- 
tative title  "Bandwagon"  .  .  .  CBS  re- 
ports that  Bing  Crosby  will  have  a  new 
sponsor  next  season  ....  NBC  is 
negotiating  with  MGM  for  an  hour-long 
dramatic  series  featuring  Metro  stars. 


Step  up  and  ask  your  questions — we'll  try  to  find  the  answers. 


UNMASKED 

Dear  Editor: 

Who  is  David  Harding  in  Counter  Spy — 
what  is  his  real  name?  I  think  his  voice 
is  simply  wonderful.  I  could  listen  to  him 
all  day  long. 

Miss  B.  T. 
Gretna,  La. 

The  man  you're  looking  for  is  a  tall 
(six  feet)  handsome  actor  with  light  brown 
hair  and  blue  eyes,  and  his  name  is  Don 
McLaughlin.  Don  developed  that  wonder- 
ful voice  at  the  University  of  Arizona 
where  he  received  his  M.A.  in  Speech. 

STILL   FLOWING 


Dear  Editor: 

Can  you  tell  me  if 
Moon  River  has  gone 
off  the  air  or  just 
changed  time  and 
station?  It  used  to 
be  on  the  air  every 
night  at  11:30  P.M. 
but  I  haven't  heard 
it  for  quite  awhile. 
I  really  miss   it. 

Miss  L.  M. 
Middletown,    Indiana. 


JAY  JOSTTN 


Moon  River,  now  in  its  nineteenth  year, 
cannot  be  heard  on  all  stations.  This 
program  originates  on  WLW,  Cincinnati 
and  is  heard  mostly  in  the  midwest.  Check 
your  local  paper's  radio  log  to  see  whether 
it  is  listed.  Incidentally,  Jay  Jostyn — 
Mr.  District  Attorney  to  you — began  his 
radio  career  on  this  program.  He  was  the 
program's  first  reader  of  poetry. 

QUICK  CHANGE 

Dear  Editor: 

Since  Jack  Benny 
went  to  CBS  it  has 
been  a  mystery  to 
me  as  to  how  Phil 
Harris  and  his  or- 
chestra can  get  from 
the  Jack  Benny  pro- 
gram on  CBS  at  7:00 
P.M.  EDT  to  his  own 
program  with  Alice 
Faye  on  NBC  at  7:30  P.M.  EDT  in  a 
matter  of  a  few  seconds  when  both  pro- 
grams are  on  different  networks. 

Miss  L.  T. 
Wellsburg,  Iowa 

It's  easy  —  the  NBC  studios  are  right 
across  the  street  from  CBS,  on  Sunset  and 
Vine. 

THEME  SONG 

Dear  Editor: 

I  would  like  to  know  the  name  of  the 
theme  song  of  the  daytime  serial  Big 
Sister. 

Mrs.   J.  B. 
Cincinnati,  Ohio. 

It's  "All  The  Things  You  Are,"  by 
Jerome  Kern. 


PHIX    HARRIS 


JULIE  STEVENS 

Dear  Editor: 

Does  the  actress 
who  plays  the  title 
role  in  Helen  Trent 
also  play  the  role  of 
Maggie  Lowell  in 
the  program  Road 
of  Life? 

Mrs.   P.   C. 
axJlXE    STEVENS         Richmond,  Calif. 

Yes,    she   does,    and    her   name    is   Julie 
Stevens. 

BUSY  ACTOR 

Dear    Editor: 

Can  you  tell  me 
if  Richard  Wid- 
mark  the  motion 
picture  actor  is  the 
same  one  who 
played  the  role  of 
David  Farrell  in  the 
NBC  daytime  serial 
Front  Page  Farrell 
a  few  years  ago? 
Miss  S.  W. 

Bronx,  N.  Y. 


RICHARD 
WIDMARK 


Yes,  he  did.  Not  only  that  but  Richard 
Widmark,  who  was  one  of  radio's  busiest 
actors  prior  to  going  into  pictures,  also 
had  featured  roles  in  Pepper  Young's 
Family,  The  O'Neills,  Stella  Dallas,  David 
Harum,    Just  Plain    Bill    and    Big    Sister. 

HE'S  BOTH 

Dear    Editor: 

I  would  like  to 
know  if  the  John 
Brown  who  portrays 
Al  on  the  My  Friend 
Irma  show  is  the 
same  John  Brown 
who  plays  Digger 
O'Dell  on  the  Life  of 
Riley  show.  Their 
names  are  the  same 

but  their  voices   are  entirely  different. 

New  York  23,  N.  Y.  Mrs.  F.  V. 

They  may  not  sound  like  the  same  per- 
son— but  they  are. 

AMOS  'N'  ANDY  WRITERS 

Dear  Editor: 

Do  Amos  'n'  Andy  write  their  own  show? 
Mrs.  T.  T. 
Des  Moines,  Iowa 

No.  The  program  is  written  by  a  staff 
of  writers  headed  by  Bob  Ross. 


JOHN    BROWN 


FOR  YOUR  INFORMATION— If  there's 
something  you  want  to  know  about 
radio,  write  to  Information  Booth, 
Radio  Mirror,  205  E.  42nd  St..  N.  Y.  We'll 
answer  if  we  can  either  in  Information 
Booth  or  by  mail — but  be  sure  to  sign 
full  name  and  address,  and  attach  this 
box  to  your  letter. 


E 

OKAY,  JUNIOR, 

> 

LET'S  HAVE  IT.  IF 

)  f       WELL,  MAN  TO    ^ 

YOU  KNOW  WHATS 

<>    MAN,  ITS  THE  OLD 

> 

MADE  ME  A  LOST 

X    BAD  BREATH  ANGLE,  v 

CAUSE  WITH  JULIE, 

1    JOE.  SO,  HOWS  FOR    % 

OONt  KEEP  IT  A     • 

O      SEEING  YOUR          J 

^ 

jl^^EC9£Ti. 

V           DENTIST?        y 

|\     4       %^ 

^JL 

TO  COMBAT  BAD  BREATH,  I  RECOMMEND 
^COLGATE  DENTAL  CREAM!  FOR  SCIENTIFIC  . 
'TESTS  PROVE  THAT  IN  7  OUT  OF  10  CASES, 
^  C0LGATE5  INSTANTLY  STOPS  BAD  BREATH 
THAT  ORIGINATES  IN  THE  MOUTH} 


"Colgate  Dental  Cream's  active  penetrating 
foam  gets  into  hidden  crevices  between  teetn 
— helps  clean  out  decaying  food  particles — 
stop  stagnant  saliva  odors — remove  the  cause 
of  much  bad  breath.  And  Colgate's  soft  pol- 
ishing agent  cleans  enamel  thoroughly, 
gently  and  safely!" 

LATER-Thanks  to  Colgate  Dental  Cream 


Always  ut» 

COLGATE  DENTAL  CREAM 

offer  you  eaf  and  before  every  dof* 


23 


Ar^  you  in  the  know  ? 


How  to  choose  the  right 
.    perfume? 

I    I  By  frial  and  error 

I    I  By  Us  glamorous  name 

I    I  Buy  Mom's  brand 

Sultry  scents  aren't  suitable  for  teens  at 
any  time  — much  less  in  summer.  Keep 
cool  and  sweet  with  a  delicate  cologne;  or 
some  fresh,  light-hearted  perfume  suited 
to  your  type.  How  to  tell?  By  trial  and  error. 
Try  a  few  different  fragrances  in  small 
sizes,  to  find  the  kind  for  you.  You  know, 
when  smart  gals  choose  sanitary  protection, 
they  try  the  3  absorbencies  of  Kotex  — 
Regular,  Junior,  Super.  Do  likewise!  Dis- 
cover which  one's  right  for  your  needs. 


After  a  late  dote,  should 
o  damsel  — 

[~l  InvUe  him  into  fhe  house 
[~1  Say  goodnight  of  the  door 
I    I  Thank  him 

When  the  night's  no  longer  young,  there's 
no  call  for  your  date  to  linger.  Dismiss  him 
graciously  at  the  door.  (Your  family  will 
appreciate  it!)  And  pul-lease— no  "thank- 
you's,"  either.  "It's  been  a  lovely  even- 
ing" will  do.  You  can  always  be  sure  of  a 
pleasant  evening,  when  you're  poised  — 
free  of  "problem  time"  worries.  That's 
why  you'll  want  to  be  sure  to  choose  Kotex. 
Because  of  that  special  safety  center,  you 
can  count  on  extra  protection  with  Kotex. 


What  about  a  gift  for  your  weekend  hostess? 

□  Bring  if  with  you  O  Send  it  later  □  Either  is  correct 


When  guesting,  remember  your  friend's 
mother  with  some  wee  giftie.  You  can 
bring  it,  or  send  it  later.  Either's  correct. 
But  you  needn't  flourish  the  present  the 
moment  your  foot  is  in  the  hall!  What's 


more,  you  needn't  postpone  your  visit— 
just  because  "that"  day  is  nigh.  For  new 
Kotex  keeps  you  comfortable.  Gives  you 
softness  that  holds  its  shape  .  .  .  (this  nap- 
kin's made  to  stay  soft  while  you  wear  it!) 


R 

M 

24 


4^67/7?  ivo/rje/7  c/joose  /COTEX  * 
/Aa^  a//  of/jer  sa/7/Yary  f?a/?^/hs 


SiT 
YORK 


To  style-wise  gals,  does 
"Empire"  suggest— 

n  World's  tallest  building 

I    I  Great  Britain 

I    I  Good  camouflage 

Plan  to  go  places?  Or  a  stay-at-home  vaca- 
tion? Either  way,  you  can  find  new  glamour 
.—by  giving  careful  thought  to  your  ward- 
robe. If  you've  figure  faults,  select  styles 
that  conceal  them.  For  instance— the  high- 
waisted  "Empire"  line  does  wonders  for  a 
flat-chested  femme.  And  don't  forget,  on 
certain  jlays,  there's  no  telltale  line  with 
Kotex.  For  that,  thank  the  flat  pressed  ends 
of  Kotex.  They  prevent  revealing  outlines 
...  do  wonders  for  your  confidence! 


Ho^  to 
prepare 
for  "those" 
days? 

nil  Be  a  blu  gno 

I    I  Break  your  dates 

O  Buy  2  sanitary  belts 

Certain  times  are  no  time  for 
moping  at  home.  Brighten  up ! 
And  freshen  up— with  care- 
ful grooming,  immaculate 
clothes.  And  why  not  be  pre- 
pared in  advance  with  two 
Kotex  Sanitary  Belts— so  you 
can  change  to  a  fresh  belt 
when  you  change  to  dating 
togs  ? 

You  see,  the  Kotex  Belt  is 
made  to  lie  flat,  without  twist- 
ing or  curling.  Your  adjust- 
able, all-elastic  Kotex  Belt 
fits  smoothly;  doesn't  bind. 
That's  why  — for  extra  com- 
fort, you'll  want  the  new 
Kotex  Sanitary  Belt.  Buy  two 
—for  a  change! 


Kotex 

Sanitary 

Belt 


T.  M.  REG.  U,  S,  PAT.  OFF. 


3   ABSORBSNC^eS''  Rm&UtAR,  UUA//aA^  SU^BR 


Walter  WincheU,  heard  Sun.,  9  P.M.  EDT  on  ABC. 


WINCHELL 

CONTEST 

WINNERS 


"What  Do  You  Think  of  Waher  Winchell?"  we  asked  our  readers  in  the 
March  issue,  and  offered  an  automobile  and  cash  prizes  for  the  most 
interesting   answers.     Here's   a   list   of  winners — is   your   name   on   it? 


Winner  of  the  first  prize,  a  Kaiser  automobile, 
is  Mrs.  Tracy  L.  Stalker  of  Flint,  Michigan. 
Here  is  her  winning  statement:  "I  hate  pur- 
gatives— though  indispensable,  they  are  dis- 
turbing; I  hate  thunderstorms,  but  they  clear 
the  air;  I  hate  bravado  but  admire  valor;  I  hate 
alarm  clocks,  but  without  one  I  wouldn't  wake 
up  in  time!  Is  that  why  I  never  miss  a  Winchell 
newscast?"  Forty  additional  statements  were 
chosen  and  the  names  of  these  five-dollar  winners 
are:  Mrs.  B.  F.  Exner,  906  St.  Ferdinand  St.,  Ba- 
ton Rouge,  La.;  H.  Day,  568  Flower  St.,  Chula 
Vista,  California;  Lt.  Comdr.  Rudolph  Snyder, 
Admiral  Farragut  Naval  Academy,  Toms 
River,  New  Jersey;  Alfred  W.  Hutchins,  3011 
16th  Street,  North,  St.  Petersburg,  Florida; 
Christy  Rhebergh,  Blue  WiUows,  Shushan, 
N.  Y.;  Clyde  Harris,  1151  North  Avenue,  N.E., 
Atlanta,  Georgia;  Mrs.  T.  N.  Kyle,  Route  1, 
Tennessee  Colony,  Texas;  John  L.  Dunck, 
Route  1,  Box  165,  Colon,  Mich.;  Mrs.  Russell 
Nichols,  Box  25,  Brewster,  Ohio;  William  V. 
Carter,  Box  6093,  Jacksonville,  Florida;  Hil- 
ding  E.  Peterson,  Birchdale,  Minn.;  Stephen 
Stawiarski,  4140  West  61st  Street,  Chicago, 
Illinois;  Frank  G.  Davis,  1015  Garfield  Ave- 
nue, Springfield,  Ohio;  Mrs.  George  Seamer, 
11577  Morrison  St.,  North  Hollywood,  Calif.; 
Rita  Szacik,  1930  South  Washtenaw,  Chicago, 
Illinois;  Ada  M.  Wedekind,  1810  Germantown 
Rd.,  Middletown,  Ohio;  Lloyd  Ira  Miller,  1031 


North  21st  Street,  AUentown,  Pa.;  Elizabeth 
Buckley,  36  Maple  Avenue,  Cedarhurst,  L.  I., 
N.  Y.;  Nona  Barbaric,  Box  423,  Shinnston, 
West  Virginia;  Mrs.  John  Farwell,  Route  1, 
Selling,  Oklahoma;  George  F.  Holt,  RFD  2, 
Havana,  Arkansas;  Joseph  Hoff  Eldridge,  Red 
Valley,  Cream  Ridge,  New  Jersey;  Dyna 
Glaser,  1902  E.  First  Street,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.; 
J.  I.  Duncan,  401  South  Jackson,  Altus,  Okla- 
homa; Mrs.  Mildred  Laucik,  9367  E.  Orange 
Avenue,  Pico,  Calif.;  Mr.  Albert  Slack,  34  Ar- 
nold Street,  Methuen,  Mass.;  Mrs.  Gladys 
Tuck,  44  West  Elm  Street,  Homer  City,  Pa.; 
George  W.  Wood,  Taylor  Avenue,  White 
Horse  Beach,  Plymouth,  Mass.;  Charles  M. 
Kock,  4081/2  Brookline,  Luling,  Texas;  Mrs. 
Floyd  RusseU,  416  Wilson  Avenue,  Cynthiana, 
Kentucky;  Mrs.  Eula  M.  Hines,  1904  Titus 
Street,  San  Diego,  Calif.;  Pierre  Dolan,  Jr., 
Box  113,  Fordham  University,  New  York, 
N.  Y.;  Mrs.  Ruth  Honey cutt,  196  Telecope 
Avenue,  Trona,  Calif.;  Mrs.  Helen  C.  Spain, 
Route  1,  Killbuck,  Ohio;  Mrs.  Blackhawk  E. 
Allen,  1140  Oregon  Street,  Waterloo,  Iowa; 
Isa  V.  Helmick,  722  South  Walnut  St.,  Craw- 
fordsville,  Indiana;  George  William  Rezey, 
838  Jay  Street,  Utica,  New  York;  Miss  Ger- 
trude Malone,  640  West  State  Street,  Trenton, 
New  Jersey;  Paul  Charach,  445  Burrows  Ave., 
Winnipeg,  Canada;  Mrs.  Miles  Krogfus,  Box 
462   Ocean  Beach  Station,   San   Diego,   Calif. 


25 


AfiE  VO  U 


By  M.  A.  McCANN 


IT  HAPPENED  to  John  Reed  King,  m.c.  on  Give  and 
Take,  when  a  woman  identified  the  secret  sound. 
"Madam,  you  have  won  an  electric  stove,  a  refrig- 
erator— "  and  John's  voice  went  on  breathlessly  for  at 
least  a  minute,  checking  off  a  thousand  dollars  worth 
of  prizes. 

But  the  woman,  looking  suspicious,  said,  "I  don't  want 
the  prizes." 

For  the  first  time  since  Marconi  invented  the  wireless, 
an  announcer  was  speechless. 

"Well,  you're  fooling  me,"  the  woman  said.  "You  don't 
really  give  away  all  those  things." 

She  was  one  of  the  few  people  who  think  it's  too  good 
to  be  true.  Little  wonder.  The  cash  and  prizes  earned 
daily  by  housewives  and  stenographers  and  people  in 
the  street  have  made  radio  quiz  shows  an  exciting,  almost 
fabulous  kind  of  entertainment.  But  the  prizes  are  real 
right  down  to  the  last  ice  cube  in  the  last  refrigerator. 
And  breathes  there  a  woman  with  soul  so  dead,  rich  or 
poor,  shy  or  cocky,  who  hasn't  wished  she  could  cut  her- 
self a  slice  of  rich  radio  pie?  Why  not?  Everyone  has 
a  chance  to  get  on  a  quiz  show  and  maybe  win. 

If  you  are  reading  this,  the  odds  are  high  that  you  are 
the  kind  of  person  the  producers  and  m.c.  want  on  a 
network  quiz  program.  And  there  are  more  than  forty- 
five  different  shows,  some  broadcasting  five  or  six  times 
a  week,  so  your  chances  of  making  the  grade  are  far 
better  than  you  might  think. 

Since  most  programs  choose  participants  from  the 
studio  audience,  the  first  step  is  to  get  into  a  broadcast. 
Nearly  all  originate  in  New  York,  Hollywood  or  Chicago. 
If  you  live  or  will  visit  in  the  vicinity  of  one  of  these 
cities,  the  network  will  mail  your  tickets. 

Here  are  their  rules. 

American  Broadcasting  Company — Request  tickets  at 
least  three  weeks  in  advance   (a  month  to  two  months 


for  Break  the   Bank   or   other   in-demand   programs). 

Columbia  Broadcasting  System — Request  tickets  at 
least  three  weeks  in  advance.  In  most  cases  you  may 
have  four  tickets  for  each  performance.  You  can  usually 
have  tickets  for  two  performances  of  the  same  program. 

Mutual  Broadcasting  System — Request  tickets  four 
weeks  in  advance  (six  weeks  on  Queen  for  a  Day).  All 
shows  usually  limited  to  two  tickets  but  occasionally 
you  may  get  more  and  see  two  shows. 

National  Broadcasting  Company — Request  tickets  two 
to  six  weeks  in  advance.  You  may  have  two  tickets  for 
each  show  and  perhaps  tickets  for  more  than  one  per- 
formance. 

Address  your  letter  simply  to  the  name  of  the  pro- 
gram, the  network  and  the  originating  city.  In  your 
letter  state  the  exact  dates  when  you'll  be  able  to  attend 
and  number  of  tickets  you  wish. 

Studio  tickets  will  advise  you  to  be  in  the  theater  at 
least  twenty  minutes  before  a  broadcast.  For  quiz  shows, 
it  is  important  to  get  into  the  studio  earlier  because  of 
the  warm-up  period.  The  warm-up  period  is  a  name 
designated  to  pre-broadcast  time  when  the  m.c.  and 
producers  choose  contestants  from  the  audience.  An 
advantage  in  arriving  thirty  to  forty-five  minutes  before 
air  time  is  that  you  can  get  a  front  row  or  aisle  seat. 
In  many  shows,  assistants  rove  the  aisles  with  micro- 
phones. Being  within  arm's  reach  of  one  of  these  men 
helps.  Being  near  the  stage,  where  the  m.c.  can  see 
you,  is  another  advantage. 

This  is  what  the  assistants  look  for: 

Sex:  Almost  unanimously,  women  are  preferred. 
From  years  of  experience,  announcers  find  women  have 
more  varied  interests  than  men,  so  are  better  able  to 
answer  questions.  And  women  are  more  relaxed,  too. 

Appearance:  Very  important  but  don't  worry  about 
Fifth  Avenue  clothes  or  renting  (Continued  on  page  99) 


Unless  you're  as  well-prepared  a  quiz  contestant  as  the  lady  here,  you'll  be  glad  of  these  do-and-don't 


26 


hints  on  making  a  good  quiz  showing 


27 


GROWING  0?  AGAIN  I 


R 
M 

28 


If  you  were   ever   a   teen-ager 
.  forget  it,  says  Gracie.    It  won't  help    a   bit   when   you    start   trying 


keep  pace  with  yovir  own  youngsters 


Bi)  e-tAeH  AILW 


1AM  IN  the  midst  of  my  second  teenhood. 
The  first  time  I  made  this  trip,  I  remember  that 
everything  was  crystal  clear.  I  knew  exactly  where 
I  was  going,  and  why.  I  knew  exactly  what  I  was  going 
to  do,  how  I  was  going  to  do  it,  and  I  had  at  tongue-tip 
at  least  six  good  arguments  with  which  to  defeat  any- 
one who  didn't  agree  with  me. 

But  now  that  I'm  in  my  repeat  teens,  like  all  parents 
of  adolescent  sons  and  daughters,  the  crystal  ball  is 
muddied.  In  dealing  with  our  fifteen-year-old  daughter, 
Sandra,  and  our  fourteen-year-old  son,  Ronald,  my 
major  emotion  is  admiring  but  bewildered  anticipation; 
my  major  exertion  is  keeping  in  step  with  them  from 
second  to  second.     Maybe  I   should  take  longer  steps. 

Take  the  simple  matter  of  wearing  lipstick.  I  was  not 
allowed  to  use  it  until  after  I  was  sixteen.  Sandra,  at 
thirteen,  began  to  suggest  that  the  time  had  come  for  her 
face  to  take  on  new  color.  "All  the  girls  at  school  wear 
it,"  she  said. 

I  do  know  the  monumental  importance  of  each  girl's 
being  just  like  the  rest,  each  boy  duplicating  his  fellows. 
(In  the  animal  kingdom  this  sort  of  thing  is  known  as 
protective  coloration,  I  believe.)  So  I  made  a  deal  with 
Sandra.  I  said  she  might  use  lipstick  if  she  would  allow 
me  to  select  the  color,  and  if  she  would  not  extend  the 
natural  outlines  of  her  mouth.  She  agreed,  and  for  a 
year  she  kept  the  bargain.  At  the  end  of  that  time  I 
noticed  that  she  owned  more  lipsticks  than  I  did — not 
one  of  which  could  be  accused  of  anemia.  By  that  time 
we  had  grown  so  accustomed  to  seeing  her  in  this  bit 
of  make-up  (the  only  thing  she  uses,  incidentally)  that 
all  I  said  was,  "I  wonder  if  this  shade  called  'Dynamite' 
would  do  anything  for  me!" 


My  first  teenhood  was  marked  by  an  interestingly 
different  attitude  toward  clothing  from  the  one  I  have 
developed,  or  been  coerced  into,  lately.  In  my  girlhood 
crowd,  one  had  no  choice  between  living  up  to  our  idea 
of  "chic"  or  being  socially  dead.  Our  cloche  hats,  our 
sleeveless  dresses  with  their  short,  ruffled  skirts,  our 
stockings  with  clocks,  our  jungles  of  artificial  flowers  in 
which  we  buried  our  left  shoulders,  were — if  nothing 
else — feminine.     Prettiness  was  important  to  us. 

Perhaps  it  still  is  to  teensters  ...  in  the  privacy  of 
their  own  rooms  on  Sunday  afternoon.  At  all  other 
times,  to  be  caught  garbed  in  anything  except  sneakers, 
wool  socks,  levis,  and  one  of  her  father's  shirts  worn 
scallop  ends  out,  would  be  Sandra's  idea  of  square  con- 
duct, and  I  do  mean  with  two  heads. 

Oddly  enough,  Sandra's  idea  of  the  "chic"  in  clothing 
entered  into  her  acceptance  of  a  new  school.  It  went 
like  this:  when  Sandra  graduated  from  Marymount 
Grammar  School,  where  only  girls  are  enrolled,  we 
decided  to  send  her  to  Chadwick,  a  private  co-educa- 
tional high  school.  George  and  I  both  went  to  public 
schools,  so  we  are  in  favor  of  bringing  up  our  children 
in  full  knowledge  that  the  citizenry  is  divided  into  two 
sexes. 

When  George  and  I  suggested  to  Sandra  that  it  was 
time  for  her  to  change  schools,  we  were  met  by  stony 
silence  and  an  expression  of  suffering.  "I'll  hate  it,"  she 
observed. 

I  made  a  deal  with  her.  We  would  drive  out  to  Chad- 
wick (it  is  beautifully  situated  in  the  rolling  Pales 
Verdes  hills)  and  inspect  it.  If  she  didn't  like  it,  ^e 
needn't  enroll. 

As  we  circled  the  gracious   (Continued  on  page  83) 


Rums  aud  Allen  are  heard  Thursdays.  8:30  P.M.  EOT.  NBC. 


T 


i 

'1 


Family — real,  honest-to-goodness  family 
— portrait :  parents  George  and  Cracie  and 
their  children.  Sandra's   15,  Ronnie   14. 


•V 


•^ 


i^^ 


/ 


y'^ 


THIS 


Edyth  Stoner,  ex-school  teacher,  told  of  Ralph  as  a  boy. 


WE  have  had  praise  since  This  Is  Your 
Life  went  on  the  air  six  months  ago  for 
opening  opportunity's  door  to  a  series  of 
deserving  folk,  for  "giving  the  httle  people 
a  chance." 

Now,  we  hke  praise  as  well  as  the  next 
fellow,  the  half  dozen  of  us  who  put  This  Is 
Your  Life  together  week  after  week,  but  I 
think  we'll  have  to  sidestep  this  particular 
compliment.  You  see,  those  who  come  under 
our  radio  spotlight  have  made  their  own 
chances.  That's  what  makes  their  stories 
worth  telling!  Nor  are  they  "little  people." 
Anonymous,  perhaps,  but  hig — the  kind  of 
people  who  are  the  very  core  of  our  country's 
greatness. 

Take  Ralph  Neppel,  for  example.  If  you 
heard  the  bare  facts  of  his  story  without 
knowing  the  one  most  important  point  of  all, 
you'd  still  say  he  had  done  very  well  for 
himself,  that  he  is  a  success.  Listen: 

He's  a  champion  Iowa  farmer,  who  toted 
off  all  the  prizes  at  the  Iowa  State  Fair  a 
year  ago  for  his  record  yield  of  one  hundred 
bushels  of  com  per  acre — more  than  double 
the  national  average.  He's  the  head  of  a 
family  and  mighty   (Continued  on  page  80) 


Ralph's  courtship  of  Jean  inelnded  sodas,  ice  skating,  dances. 


The  "little  people,"  says 


Ralph  Edwards,  are  really  the 


great  ones — they  ask  no 


favors,  make  their  own  chances. 


Take  Ralph  Neppel's  case  . 


This  Is  Your  Life,  with  Ralph  Edwards:  heard 
every  Tuesday  night  at  8  EDT  on  NBC  stations 


30 


£i^BJ 


IS  YOUR 


Between  the  two  Ralphs:  Mother, 
Mrs.  Rose  Neppel.  In  back:  Gene 
Rine,  who  saved  Neppel's  life,  bud- 
dy  Jim    Schuele,   brother    "Arby," 


By 

RALPH 

EDWARDS 


In  a  pre-airtime  huddle:  1.  to  r.,  writer  Hal  Collins,  associ- 
ate producer  Irving  Gray,  Berle  himself,  writer  Bob  Gordon. 


Entertainer  Frances   Faye   sat   with   Berle   during   rehearsal, 
marveled  at  his  blow-by-blow  way  of  putting  show  togedier. 


Requirement  radio  never  exacted — ^m^enp.  But  Berle,  with  a 
long  record  of  personal  appearances  behind  him,  doesn't  mind. 


YOUR  TICKET  TO  THE 

Oh  ^Uifc  ^roiH  ^*ut  to^  la^t  ■ 


IMAGINE,  if  you  can,  the  best  three-ring  circus 
you've  ever  seen,  plus  the  finest  vaudeville  per- 
formance. For  good  measure,  add  conunercials 
that  are  a  treat.  That  wonderful  hodge-podge  is,  - 
according  to  many  thousands  of  dehghted  people 
who  watch  it  every  Tuesday  night  over  WNBT 
and  TV  network,  a  perfect  description  of  Texaco 
Star  Theater.  A  vast  share  of  the  credit,  per-  , 
formers  and  audience  agree,  goes  to  Milton  Berle, 
who  is  on  stage  nearly  every  moment  and  whose 
activity  dming  rehearsals  outdoes  any  six  other 
people.  On  these  two  pages  are  pictures  taken 
during  rehearsal  and  telecast  of  raie  program,  typi- 
cal of  the  bustle — ^and  the  really  superlative  brand 
of  entertainment-— of  all  the  rest.  Sit  back,  relax, 
pretend  you're  in  the  front  row,  and  enjoy  it! 

RADIO    MIRROR    TELEVISION    SECTIOf 


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EXACO  STAR  THEATER 


lie  Wilson  was  a  present-day  Theda 
ra.    Audience — and   Berle — loved   it. 


'Tell  ya  what  Tm  gonna  do!"  Sid  Stone 
gives  commercials  a  new  lease  on  life. 


Irving  Gray  makes  last-minnte  costume 
check.     In    this    case — does    it    matter? 


aaan^P'';-ivi^ssBS7: 


In  a  pre-airtime  huddle:  I.  to  r.,  writer  Hal  Collins,  associ- 
ate producer  Irving  Gray,  Berle  himself,  writer  Bob  Gordon. 


Entertainer   Frances    Faye    sat   with    Berle    daring   rehearsal, 
marveled  at  his  blow-by-blow  way  of  putting  show  together. 


Requirement  radio  never  exacted — makeup.   But  Berle,  with  a 
long  record  of  personal  appearances  behind  him,  doesn^t  mind. 


YOUR  TICKET  TO  TH 


<;-;„ 


Oil  Ata^c  ^t(Mt  ^'Ut  t<y  ia 
6<fr  attcUcKcc  cCetKCMd  — 


IMAGINE,  if  you  can,  the  best  three-ring  ciiius 
you've  ever  seen,  plus  the  finest  vaudeville  per- 
formance. For  good  measure,  add  commercials 
that  are  a  treat.  That  wonderful  hodge-podgf-  is, 
according  to  many  thousands  of  deUghted  people 
who  watch  it  every  Tuesday  night  over  W^^3T 
and  TV  network,  a  perfect  description  of  Texaco 
Star  Theater.  A  vast  share  of  the  credit,  per- 
formers and  audience  agree,  goes  to  Milton  Berle, 
who  is  on  stage  nearly  every  moment  and  whose 
activity  during  rehearsals  outdoes  any  six  other 
people.  On  these  two  pages  are  pictures  taken 
during  rehearsal  and  telecast  of  one  program,  typi- 
cal of  the  bustle — and  the  really  superlative  brand 
of  entertainment — of  all  the  rest.  Sit  back,  relax, 
pretend  you're   in  the  front  row,   and   enjoy  it! 


TEXACO  STAR  THEATER 


RADIO   MIRROR    TEIEVISION    SECTION 


li'lii'  Wi  son  was  a   present-day  Theda 
"■s-   Audience — and   Berle — loved  it. 


•Tell  ya  what  I'm  gonna  do!"  Sid  Stone 
gives  commercials  a  new  lease  on  life. 


Irving  Cray  makes  lasl-minnle  costume 
check.     In    this    case— does    il    matter? 


nr^ 


1 


?v\'RKy 


While  Harry  was  convalescing  from  his  illness,  his 
6-year-old    son,    Bobby,    was    his    daily    companion. 


In  Hollywood,  where  a  house  isn't  a  home  without  a  pool,  Harry'i 
is  unique — it's  the  only  one  that  was  built  on  doctor's  orders. 


'Parky"  is  just  a  figment  of  H 


IT'S  a  funny  thing  how  an  imaginary  character,  be- 
ginning as  just  a  wisp  of  dream  stuff,  can  go  on 

filling  out  and  growing  more  substantial  as  you 
live  in  him  and  with  him  for  several  years,  till  he 
becomes  as  real  to  you,  his  creator,  as  the  guy  you  go 
bowling  with  on  Friday  night. 

Then  maybe  something  happens  that  makes  it  seem 
necessary  to  get  rid  of  your  imaginary  sidekick.  Life 
closes  in  you;  there's  no  longer  room  for  him.  So  you 
decide  you'U  have  to  drop  your  character,  heaveho, 
just  hke  that.  "Goodbye,  please,"  you  tell  him.  "I  can't 
take  care  of  you  anymore.  Go  get  lost." 

Right  there  you're  liable  to  get  the  surprise  of  youi 
hfe.  Yoiu:  brain-guy  stands  right  up  and  talks  back. 
He  refuses  to  do  a  fade-out.  He  says,  "Look,  bub, 
we've  had  a  lot  of  fun  together,  a  lot  of  laughs.  Now, 
just  because  things  look  a  Uttle  tough,  you  want  to 
drop  old  buddy.  Well,  it's  no  soap,  see.  I'm  sticking." 

So  there  you  are.  You  can't  get  rid  of  the  guy.  He 
insists  on  Uving,  and  he  insists  that  you  Uve  with 


Wheel-chair-bound  for  a  year,  Harry  found  that  work- 
ing back  to  happy  family  life  was  a  slow,  grim  process. 


^ 


34 


rtein's  dreams.     But,  when  his  creator  lay  helpless,  it  was  "Parky"  who  took  over 


him.  You've  jtist  done  too  good  a  "dreaming- up"  job. 

That's  what  happened  to  me  with  Parkyakarkus 
not  so  long  ago.  Chances  are  that  most  of  you 
know  Parky,  the  jovial  Greek- American  whose  lunch- 
room was  for  ten  years  the  scene  of  Meet  Me  At 
Parky's,  broadcast  over  NBC  and  Mutual.  Chances 
are  equally  good  that  most  of  you  never  heard  of 
me,  Harry  Einstein.  I'm  Parky's  papa;  he's  my  boy. 
I  made  him  up,  and  he  made  me.  But  don't  think  for 
a  minute  that  we're  the  same  person.  Parky  leads  a 
life  of  his  own.  Even  though  I  know  him  better  than 
I  know  myself,  he's  always  pulling  stuff  that  svirprises 
me.  And  some  of  his  surprises  are  pretty  wonderful 
ones — ^like  his  sticking  with  me  when  it  looked  as  if 
paralysis  had  me  whipped.  For  awhile  there,  when  I 
was  physically  just  about  down  and  out,  it  seemed 
that  our  roles  were  almost  reversed,  that  Parky  was 
the  creator  breathing  life  into  me,  his  invention. 

Believe  me,  I  had  no  idea  when  I  walked  into  that 
hospital  in  the  summer  of   {Continued  on  page  86) 


gm^ 


r?i 


Harry  sank  into  hopelessness — ^bul  "Parky"  wasn't 
beaten.  "Back  to  work,"  he  ordered.  And  Harry  went. 


By 

HARRY  EINSTEIN 

("Parkyakarkus") 


?Ai?Ky 


While  Harry  was  convalescing  from  iiis  illness,  his 
6-year'old    son,    Bobby,    was    his    daily    companion. 


In  Hollywood,  where  a  house  isnH  a  home  without  a  pool,  Harry's 
is  unique — it's  the  only  one  that  was  built  on  doctor's  orders. 


'Parky"  is  just  a  figment  of  Hari 


IT'S  a  funny  thing  how  an  imagiiiary  character,  be- 
ginning as  just  a  wisp  of  dream  stuff,  can  go  on 

filling  out  and  growing  more  substantial  as  you 
live  in  him  and  with  him  for  several  years,  till  he 
becomes  as  real  to  you,  his  creator,  as  the  guy  you  go 
bowling  with  on  Friday  night. 

Then  maybe  something  happens  that  makes  it  seem 
necessary  to  get  rid  of  your  imaginary  sidekick. ,  Life 
closes  in  you;  there's  no  longer  room  for  him.  So  you 
decide  you'll  have  to  drop  your  character,  heaveho, 
just  like  that.  "Goodbye,  please,"  you  tell  him.  "I  caii't 
take  care  of  you  anymore.  Go  get  lost." 

Right  there  you're  liable  to  get  the  surprise  of  your 
life.  Your  brain-guy  stands  right  up  and  talks  back. 
He  refuses  to  do  a  fade-out.  He  says,  "Look,  bub, 
we've  had  a  lot  of  fun  together,  a  lot  of  laughs.  Now, 
just  because  things  look  a  little  tough,  you  want  io 
drop  old  buddy.  Well,  it's  no  soap,  see.  I'm  stickir.e  " 

So  there  you  are.  You  can't  get  rid  of  the  guy.  He 
insists  on  living,  and  he  insists  that  you  live  wi'h 


Wheel-chair-bound  for  a  year,  Harry  found  that  work- 
ing back  to  happy  family  life  was  a  slow,  grim  process. 


instein's  dreams.     But,  when  his  creator  lay  helpless,  it  was  "Parky"  who  took  over  .  .  . 


him.  You've  just  done  too  good  a  "dreaming-up"  job. 

That's  what  happened  to  me  with  Parkyakarkus 
not  so  long  ago.  Chances  are  that  most  of  you 
know  Parky,  the  jovial  Greek- American  whose  lunch- 
room was  for  ten  years  the  scene  of  Meet  Me  At 
Parky's,  broadcast  over  NBC  and  Mutual.  Chances 
are  equally  good  that  most  of  you  never  heard  of 
me,  Harry  Einstein.  I'm  Parky's  papa;  he's  my  boy. 
I  made  him  up,  and  he  made  me.  But  don't  think  for 
a  minute  that  we're  the  same  person.  Parky  leads  a 
life  of  his  own.  Even  though  I  know  him  better  than 
I  know  myself,  he's  always  pulling  stuff  that  surprises 
me.  And  some  of  his  surprises  are  pretty  wonderful 
ones — Uke  his  sticking  with  me  when  it  looked  as  if 
paralysis  had  me  whipped.  For  awhile  there,  when  I 
was  physically  just  about  down  and  out,  it  seemed 
that  our  roles  were  almost  reversed,  that  Parky  was 
the  creator  breathing  life  into  me,  his  invention. 

Believe  me,  I  had  no  idea  when  I  walked  into  that 
hospital  in  the  summer  of   (Continued  on  page  86) 


Harry   sank  into  hopelessness — but  "Parky"  wasn't 
beaten.  "Back  to  work,"  he  ordered.  And  Harry  went. 


By 

HARRY  EINSTEIN 

("Parkyakarkus") 


Jsi^Ih        M^k'^S:. 


I 


GRACE  MATTHEWS 

as  Rtilh  Wayne, 
heroine  of  Big:  Sister 


1.  The  past  few  years 
have  been  turbulent 
ones  for  Ruth  Wayne. 
But  now  that  she,  her 
husband  John  and  their 
son  Ridiard  are  together 
once  more  in  their  little 
Clen  Falls  home,  she  is 
hoping  with  all  her  heart 
that  fate  will  allow  their 
lives  to  fall  into  a  pat- 
tern of  domestic  peace. 


H 


The  story  of  a  woman  who  found  room 


in  her  life  for  the  service  of  many,  room 


in  her  heart'  for  the  love  of  onlv  one 


IN  this  Radio  Mirror  review  of  the  life 
of  Big  Sister  and  her  family,  you  see 
the  people  of  the  town  of  Glen  Falls 
going  about  their  daily  lives  just  as  you 
hear  them  on  the  air,  played  by  the 
actors  who  play  the  roles  on  this  day- 
time radio  story: 

Ruth  Evans  Wayne (irace  Matthews 

John  Wayne Paul  McGrath 

Neddie  Evans Michael  O'Day 

Hope  Evans   Teri  Keane 

Reed  Bannister Ian  Martin 

Valerie  Hale  Bannister Anne  Burr 

Big  Sister  is  heard  Monday  through 
Friday  afternoons  at  1  o'clock,  EDT, 
over  stations  of  the  Columbia  Broad- 
casting System. 


'X 


Jv-^l 


.•^^ 


m'-:^t 


2.  Ruth  Evans  centered  her  life  about  her  orphaned 
sister.  Sue,  and  her  crippled  brother,  Neddie — more 
than  an  elder  sister  to  them,  she  tried  to  fill  the 
roles  of  both  mother  and  father  in  the  lives  of  the 
two  younger  children.  She  was  delighted  when  Sue 
met  and  married  newspaper  reporter,  Jerry  Miller. 


!.  With  Sue's  life  happily  settled,  Ruth  turned  her 
full  attention  and  devotion  to  the  care  of  Neddie.  A 
new  iloctor,  John  Wayne,  was  called  in.  Soon  Ruth 
and  ,Iohn  found  themselves  in  love.  But  because  of 
her  brother's  affliction,  Ruth  felt  she  must  give  him 
first  consideration,   put   his   happiness   before   hers. 


;n 


1.  The  past  few  years 
have  been  turbulent 
ones  for  Rnth  Wayne- 
Bat  now  that  she,  her 
husband  John  and  their 
son  Richard  are  together 
once  more  in  their  little 
Glen  Falls  home,  she  is 
hoping  with  all  her  heart 
that  fate  will  allow  their 
lives  to  fall  into  a  pat- 
tern of  domestic  peace. 


!.  Ruth  Evans  centered  her  life  about  her  orphaned 
lister,  Sue,  anil  her  crippled  brother,  Neddie— more 
ihan  an  elder  sister  to  them,  she  tried  to  fill  the 
roles  of  both  mother  and  father  in  the  lives  of  the 
iwo  younger  children.  She  was  delighted  when  Sue 
met  and  married  newspaper  reporter,  Jerry  Miller. 


IN  this  Radio  Mirror  leview  of  the  life  ^^— ^ 

•  of  Big  Sister  and  her  family,  you  see 
the  people  of  the  town  of  Glen  Falls 
going  about  their  daily  lives  just  as  you 
hear  them  on  the  air,  played  by  the 
actors  who  play  the  roles  on  this  day- 
time radio  story: 

llillli  Evuns  Wuyiit' <.r.i.-.-  Mi>tllirw> 

lohii  Wiiyno I'liiil  McCrnlli 

Nwldio  Kvuni. Miolm^lO'Dny  f 

Mt,|M,  Rviinii 'IVri  Kcnn« 

Itrcfl  Bannistrr lun  Mnrlin 

Val•^ri<^  llnic  KiinninKr Vnii,'  llurr 

Big  Sister  is  heard  Monday  through 
Friday  afternoons  at  1  o'clock,  EDT, 
over  stations  of  the  Columbia  Broad- 
casting System. 


I  With  Sue's  life  happily  sntllcd,  Ruth  luriifd  her 
full  altenlioM  and  devotion  to  the  care  of  Neddie.  A 
ri.w  ilorliir.  John  Wayne,  wns  called  in.  Soon  Rulh 
„,d  John  found  themselves  in  love.  Hut  lierause  of 
l„r  hrollicr's  iiffliclioii.  Rulh  felt  she  must  kIvc  hmi 
lir.l   consideration,    put   his   har'pi"e»"   '"''""   '""'■''• 


THROUGH     THE     YEARS 


4.  John  Wayne's  skill  and  care  brought  about  a 
complete  cure  for  Neddie,  opened  for  him  a  fuU, 
normal  life.  Shortly  after  his  recovery,  Neddie  fell 
in  love.  He,  too,  soon  was  married  and  set  up 
housekeeping  with  Hope,  his  lovely  young  wile — 
leaving    Ruth    free    at    last    to    follow    her    heart. 


5.  On  October  19, 1939,  Ruth  and  John  were  mar- 
ried. For  one  lovely  year  their  life  together 
went  smoothly  and  they  lived  in  quiet  happiness. 
John  absorbed  in  his  work  with  Dr.  Carvell  and 
Ruth  looking  forward  to  the  birth  of  their  baby. 
He  was  born  just  before  John  Wayne  went  to  war. 


9.  John's  one  reqpiest,  before  he  left,  was  thai 
Ruth  divorce  him,  marry  Reed  Bannister,  who  was 
in  love  with  her.  Ever  hopeful  that  John  would 
return,  Ruth  refused  to  start  divorce  proceed- 
ings. But  the  close  friendship  between  Ruth  and 
Dr.  Bannister  gradually  developed  into  romance. 


10.  Eventually,  Reed  convinced  Ruth  that  John 
would  never  return.  Mistaking  gratitude  for  love 
she  agreed  to  divorce  John,  marry  Reed.  While 
they  were  at  the  lawyer's  office  arranging  for 
the  divorce,  John  returned — a  new  John  Wayne, 
determined   to    fight   to    regain   his    wife's    love. 


38 


WITH    BIG  SISTER 


6.  Left  alone  with  baby  Dick,  Ruth 
foiind  herself  once  again  playing 
both  mother  and  father.  To  add  to 
her  problems,  trouble  was  brewing 
between  Neddie  and  Hope — trouble 
which    threatened    their    marriage. 


7.  During  John's  absence,  his  best 
friend.  Dr.  Reed  Bannister,  came  to 
Glen  Falls  to  carry  on  John's  work 
with  Dr.  CarvelL  Ruth  went  to  work 
as  secretary  to  both,  for  conveni- 
ence moved  into   Dr.  Carvell's  home. 


8.  At  the  war's  end,  John  returned 
— maladjusted,  unable  to  pick  up 
his  pre-war  life;  To  "find  himself 
he  left  Glen  Falls  again.  This  had 
a  shattering  effect  on  little  Dick. 
Dr  CarveU  tried  to  help  the  child. 


11.  Neddie's  wife  had  a  brealfdown, 
was  in  a  sanitarium.  Neddie  went  to 
New  York,  met  dancer  Valerie  Hale, 
and  brought  her  back  to  Glen  Falls.- 
There  she  fell  in  love  with  Reed, 
who   did  not  return  her  affection. 


w  her  heart  again— ^back  to  her  son 
and  husband,  now  happily  reunited. 


THROUGH 


4.  John  Wayne's  skill  and  care  brought  about  o 
complete  cure  for  Neddie,  opened  for  him  a  full, 
normal  life.  Shortly  after  his  recovery,  Neddie  fell 
in  love.  He,  too,  soon  was  married  and  set  up 
housekeeping  with  Hope,  his  lovely  young  wife — 
leaving    Ruth    free    at    last    to    follow    her    heart. 


5.  On  October  19,  1939,  Ruth  and  John  were  mar- 
ried. For  one  lovely  year  their  life  together 
went  smoothly  and  they  lived  in  quiet  happiness. 
John  absorbed  in  his  work  with  Dr.  Carvell  and 
Ruth  looking  forward  to  the  birth  of  their  baby. 
He  was  born  just  before  John  Wayne  went  to  war. 


6.  Left  alone  with  baby  Dick,  Ruth 
found  herself  once  again  playing 
both  mother  and  father.  To  add  to 
her  problems,  trouble  was  brewing 
between  Neddie  and  Hope — trouble 
which    threatened    their    marriage. 


7.  During  John^s  absence,  his  best 
friend.  Dr.  Reed  Bannister,  came  to 
Glen  Falls  to  carry  on  Jobn*s  work 
with  Dr.  CarvelL  Ruth  went  to  work 
;is  secretary  to  both,  for  conveni- 
ence moved  into  Dr.  Carvell's  home. 


8.  Al  the  war's  end,  John  relumed 
— maladjusted,  unable  tu  pick  up 
his  pre-war  life;  To  "find  himself" 
lie  left  Glen  Fallu  again.  This  had 
a  yhutlering  elTcct  on  little  Dick. 
Dr  Carvell  tried  to  help  (he  child. 


9.  John's  one  request,  before  he  left,  was  that 
Ruth  divorce  him,  marry  Reed  Bannister,  who  was 
in  love  \vilh  her.  Ever  hopeful  that  John  would 
return,  Ruth  refused  to  start  divorce  proceed- 
ings. But  the  close  friendship  between  Ruth  and 
Dr.  Bannister  gradually  developed  into  romance. 


10.  Eventually,  Reed  convinced  Ruth  that  John 
would  never  return.  Mistaking  gratitude  for  love 
she  agreed  to  divorce  John,  marry  Reed.  While 
they  were  al  the  lawyer's  office  arranging  for 
the  divorce,  John  returned — a  new  John  Wayne, 
determined    to    fight   to    regain   his    wife's    love. 


I  .  Neddie's  wife  had  a  breakdown, 
V.  13  in  a  sanitarium.  Neddie  went  to 
N  w  York,  met  dancer  Valerie  Hale, 
a  d  brought  her  back  to  Glen  Falls.- 
'[  lere  she  fell  in  love  with  Reed, 
^^  lo   did  not  return  her  affection. 


Every  radio  actor  in  the  business  knows 

CBS's  Marge  Morrow.   And  vice  versa.    It's  Marge  who 

has  the  'answer  to  that  all-important  question  ...  ' 


As  Casting  Director  at  CBS,  Marge  sees  all  qual- 
ified acting  aspirants.  From  her  voluminou^ 
files    come    the    important    casts    of    tomorrov*. 


mmf 


UP  ON  THE  fourteenth  floor  of  the  CBS  Building  at 
Madison  Avenue  and  52nd  Street  in  New  York  is 
the  office  of  Miss  Marge  Morrow,  Casting  Directoi' 
for  the  Columbia  Broadcasting  System.  Her  office  is 
small  but  comfortable.  There  are  pottery  figurines  and 
vases  of  flowers  wherever  there  is  desk  or  shelf  space  for 
them.  A  tiny  radio  perches  on  the  window  sill,  and  the 
walls  are  lined  with  handsome  photographs.  Some  of 
them  are  hauntingly  familiar  to  the  casual  visitor,  and 
if  you  were  to  look  closely  at  them,  you'd  realize  they 
are  actors  and  actresses  you've  seen  in  the  movies  or  on 
the  stage  or  in  the  pages  of  magazines.  They  all  bear 
loving  inscriptions:  "To  Marge,  who  gave  me  my  first 
break."  "For  Marge  Moi-row— a  real  friend."  And  one 
picture  of  a  well-known  Hollywood  actor  with  a  huge 
dog  reads,  "We  love  you,  we  love  you,  we  love  you." 

It  sounds  like  a  quiet,  homey  spot,  doesn't  it?  Well,  it 
isn't.  It's  a  whirlwind  of  a  place  with  something  going 
on  every  minute. 

Phones  ring.  A  director  wants  an  Easter  bunny — 
that  is,  an  actor  to  play  an  Easter  bunny.  A  producer 
wants  to  point  out  that  he's  sending  round  a  girl  who 
really  has  talent.  "If  she  has,"  Marge  tells  him,  "wh> 
woriy?  I'll  take  good  care  of  her."  A  secretary  asks 
when  Marge  can  see  two  applicants.  With  one  hand. 
Marge  makes  notes  in  an  appointment  book;  with  the 
other,  she  holds  down  a  casting  list  .  .  . 

No,  it's  anything  but  quiet  and  peaceful. 

What  kind  of  person  is  Marge  Morrow,  anyway? 
Radio  actors  will  tell  you  that  this  attractive  girl  with 
the  big  brown  eyes  is  one  of  the  most  important  people 
in  the  business.  And  it's  quite  true  that  she  iiolds  down 
one  of  the  best  jobs  that  CBS  has  to  offer  a  woman — 
that  of  Casting  Director  for  the  network.  She's  been 
in  radio  since  its  very  beginning — starting  out  at  WJZ 
in  1926  while  she  was  still  at  college.  Those  were  the 
days  when  there  were  only  twenty -five  people  on  the 
whole  WJZ  staff,  and  everybody  had  to  do  everything. 
From  WJZ,  she  went  to  work  for  Peter  Dixon,  one  of 
the  first  producers  of  daytime  serials,  and  eventually 
arrived  at  CBS  in  1935.  At  that  time,  CBS  has  about  five 
staff  directors,  each  of  whom  knew  only  ten  or  fifteen 
actors  and  used  them  on  their  shows  all  the  time. 
Marge's  files  now  contain  the  names  of  over  15,000  actors 
and  actresses  whom  she  had  auditioned  over  the  inter- 
vening years. 

Those  thousands  of  auditions  make  Marge  shake  her 
head  when  she  thinks  of  them.  "There  are  about  fifty 
excerpts  from  plays,"  she'll  say,  " — ^from  Shakespeare 
to  Sherwood,  that  I  know  by  (Continued  on  page   98) 


I 


C TALE NT 


I 


By 

GWEN 
JONES 


Macdonald    Carey    is    an 
old  .  friend.     He   had   a   success- 
ful  radio    career    behind 
him   before  he  went  west   to 
repeat  it  in  movies. 


¥ 


e 


di  wit 


muj  m 


But,  if  it's  stars  you're 


after,  dont  go  to  the  Days.    There's 


nobody  there  but  the  family 


By  DOROTHY  BLAIR 


Dennis  was  an  unusual  bachelor.  He  planned  to  be 
a  husband;  he  even  bought  a  house.  And,  sure 
enough,  along  came  just  the  right  girl:  Peggy  Ahlm- 
qni'st.    And  they  had  just  the  right  baby:  young  Pat. 


ANYONE  who  expects  to  find  the  Patrick  Dennis  Mc- 
Nultys  living  in  the  style  to  which  a  high  Hooper 
rating  could  accustom  them,  is  in  for  a  surprise. 

You  won't  find  the  house  marked  on  the  Maps  to 
Stars'  Homes  sold  along  Hollywood's  Sunset  Boulevard. 
As  a  matter  of  fact  it  isn't  in  Hollywood  nor  is  it  in 
any  of  the  districts  considered  fashionable  by  glamor 
standards.  The  back  of  McNulty's  hand  to  glamor. 

Patrick  Dennis  found  his  house  before  he  found  his 
bride — and  both  are  just  what  he  ordered. 

He  said,  a  good  many  times  before  he  married,  that 
his  wfe  would  be  a  girl  who  had,  and  we  quote,  a  zest 
for  living,  a  sense  of  humor,  an  appreciation  of  music, 
a  love  of  children,  radiant  good  health,  and  no  desire 
for  a  career. 

He  said  his  house  would  be  big  and  comfortable.  It 
would  be  on  a  hillside.  It  would  be  planned  for  family 
living — ^not  as  a  show  place. 


You  have  to  forgive  the  Hollywood  dopesters  who 
only  smiled  when  he  was  quoted  to  them.  They'd  heard 
it  all  before.  They'd  heard  many  another  popular,  fa- 
mous yotmg  bachelor  say  much  the  same  thing — and 
the  next  week  marry  a  starlet  whose  sense  of  humor 
extended  as  far  as  the  review  of  her  last  picture,  and 
who  had  a  zest  for  living — in  night  clubs.  These  couples 
ordinarily  moved  into  houses  with  heated  swunming 
pools. 

Young  Mr.  McNulty,  however,  meant  what  he  said — 
but  only  his  closest  friends  believed  him.  Consequently, 
they  were  the  only  ones  who  were  not  surprised  when 
he  carried  Peggy  Ahlmquist  McNulty  over  the  threshold 
of  the  house  in  the  Los  Feliz  district  and  deposited  her 
in  her  new  home  and  into  the  life  of  a  celebrity's  wife, 
simultaneously. 

The  Los  Feliz  section  of  Los  Angeles  is  a  conjfortable, 
prosperous  neighborhood  more  favored  by  the  substan- 


42 


DENNIS  DAY 


When  Pat  III  was  bom, 
family  life  moved  vp- 
stairs     to     the     nursery. 


43 


e 


mnt  rni 


d  [JiAit 


DENNIS  DAY 


tial,  solid  citizens  of  the  town  than  it  is  by  the  glamor 
folk.  The  McNultys'  ho  vise  is  a  two -story,  ten -room 
structure  of  white  stucco,  built  when  Los  Angeles  was 
going  through  its  Mediterranean  phase.  There  is  a  trim, 
well-kept  lawn  that  blends,  without  fence  or  hedge,  into 
the  lawns  of  the  neighbors  on  either  side.  There  is  no 
pool,  there  are  no  electrically  operated  gates  to  shield 
the  McNultys  from  the  world.  Instead,  there's  a  curving 
walk  up  to  the  big  oak  front  door,  and  there's  a  Dennis- 
built  barbecue  out  in  the  back  patio. 

Patrick  Dennis  McNulty  is  also,  of  course,  a  hand- 
some young  Irishman  known  to  almost  every  man, 
woman  and  child  in  this  countiy  as  Dennis  Day. 

His  father  was  Patrick  McNulty  before  him  and 
Patrick  II  is  proud  indeed  of  the  name.  But  once  he 
changed  it.  It  happened  when  he  joined  the  Navy  dur- 
ing the  war.  He'd  been  christened  Patrick  Owen.  When 
he  went  to  school  he  changed  the  Gaelic  Owen  for  its 
English  equivalent,  Eugene.  His  confirmation  name 
was  Dennis.  The  Navy  told  him  to  make  up  his  mind. 
Was  he  Patrick  Owen,  Patrick  Eugene  or  Patrick  Dennis 
McNulty  or  was  he  Dennis  Day?  The  Navy  advised 
that  he  settle  down  to  one — if  only  so  the  books  could  be 
kept  straight. 

So  Patrick  legally  changed  his  name  to  Dennis  Day. 
After  he  came  back  from  the  Sei-vice,  and  after  he'd 
proposed  to  Peggy  Ahlmquist,  he  wanted  his  family 
name  again.  So  off  he  went  to  court  and  asked  to  go 
back  to  being  Patrick  Dennis  McNulty. 

"Are  you  positive?"  the  Court  wanted  to  know. 

"For  keeps,"  Dennis  declared. 

The  result  of  all  this  to-do  is  that  young  Mrs.  McNulty 
calls  her  husbaad  Dennis,  as  does  everyone  else,  and 


Dennis,  like  all  young  husbands,  needs  last-minute 
aid  in  the  morning.  But  he  knows  his  duties  as  a 
father;  his  camera    (r.)   is  always  ready  for  Pat. 


\  Oay  in  the  Lif*^  of  Oennis  Oay  is  heard 
Saturdays    at     10    P.M.     EDT,    on    NBC. 


44 


when  anyone  calls  her  Mrs.  McNulty  she  is  inclined  to 
think  they  are  speaking  of,  or  to,  her  mother-in-law. 

Brown-haired,  blue-eyed  Peggy,  who  had  all  the 
qualifications  Dennis  asked  in  a  wife,  was,  when  she 
married  in  1948,  a  senior  at  the  University  of  Southern 
California,  where  she  was  majoring  in  something  called 
International  Economics.  She  and  Dennis  met  on  a 
Sunday  afternoon  when  the  elder  McNultys  took  two  of 
their  sons,  Dennis  and  John,  calling  on  their  good  friends 
the  Ahlmquists  who  live  in  a  suburb  of  Los  Angeles 
called  Lynwood,  and  whose  daughter,  Peggy,  happened 
to  be  at  home.  Dennis  that  day  asked  Peggy  for  a  date 
— and  it  was  only  a  few  months  later  that  she  dropped 
out  of  school  to  become  his  wife.  Until  that  historic 
Sunday  she  had  her  eye  on  a  job  in  the  Chinese  Em- 
bassy in  Washington.  .That  idea,  and  a  two-year  stint 
as  a  bank  teller  during  the  war,  are  as  close  as  she  ever 
came  to  a  career — and  she  doesn't  want,  she  says,  to 
get  any  closer.  You  could  point  out  that  she's  working 
at  a  full  time  job  now,  but  she'd  only  laugh  at  such 
nonsense. 

She  couldn't  approve  more  of  her  home  if  she'd 
picked  it  out  he^-self.  When  Dennis  bought  it  he  hadn't 
met  Peggy,  so  he  invited  his  parents  and  his  unmarried 
brother  to  share  it  with  him.  When  Dennis  and  Peggy 
moved  in,  the  other  McNultys  moved  out,  taking  their 
possessions  with  them,  leaving  room  for  the  wedding 
gifts  and  the  newlyweds'  own  ideas  of  decorating.  About 
aU  that  was  left  when  Peggy  and  Dennis  got  back  from 
their  honejnnoon  were  the  rugs,  a  couple  of  easy  chairs 
Dennis  had  bought  and  the  furnishings  in  his  own  room. 

Together  the  young  McNultys  selected  the  pictures — 
the  oil  over  the  living  room   (Continued  on  page  89) 


Dennis    is    a    home-loving    man    who    doesn't    jnst 
talk  abont  it.    He  carries  his  fair  share  of  the  load. 


But  who  could  consider  this 
work?  Not  Dennis.  (Not  for 
a    year    or    so,    at    any    rate.) 


45 


\'r'''2P 


LITTLE  BOY  AT  THE  FARM 

Radio   Mirror's  Prize  Poem 

He  picked  the  wild  strawberries;  smelled  the  clover; 
And  crte  the  clover-honey  in  the  comb. 
He  stared  at  graceful  swallows  sktmming  over 
The  rippling  wheat,  grown  in  the  rich  black  loam. 

He  chased  the  chickens;  picked  the  pink  shellflowers. 
And  went  with  grandfather  each  time  to  milk; 
He  doddled  hay-cocks  in  the  sunset  hours. 
And  curried  horses'  flanks  as  smooth  as  silk. 

He  dreamed  long  boy-dreams  stitched  with  gold  and 

glory, 
Roofed  over  with  the  jewel-weed  and  broom. 
And  for  a  bedroom  chose  the  whole  third  story 
Which  once  had  been  his  own  dear  father's  room. 
He  often  stood  spell-bound  .  .  .  his  eyes  went  stray- 
ing 
To  miracles  .  .  .  fresh-made  omd  beautiful. 
He  did  not  know  he  set  the  fifes  to  playing  .  .  .  ■ 
In  grownup  hearts  ...  he  vraa  the  miracle! 

— ^Eunice  tGldred  LonCoske 


fH 


1 


< 


\.^     M  m.  M. 


BACHELOR  BEWARE 

When  the  asks  you  over  frequently 
To  gorge  on  the  gorgeous   meals  she 

con  make. 
She  s  casting  fier  vread  on  the  waters, 

but  she 
Expects  it  back  as  wedding  cake! 
—Thomas  Usk 


DOWN  TO  EARTH 

I  do  not  vow'  undying  love. 
Nor  forego  all   flirtation; 
I  swear  not  by  the  stars  above. 
To  spoire  you  mild  vexation. 

I  make  no  ardent  vows,  but  you. 
May  find  some  compensation. 
In  knowing  you  have  forced  me  to 
Complete  domestication. 

— Cathryn  Green 


1 


SONG  FOR  BOOKS 

Books  on  gardening;  books  on  bugs; 
Books  en  h6oking  arty  rugs; 
Books  on  hoMv  to  set  the  table; 
Books  on  trapping  mink  and  sable; 
Books  on  skiing;  books  on  Rome; 
Books  on  how  to  build  a  home; 
On  preventing  soil  erosion; 
On  combatting  an  explosion; 
Books  on  charm;  on  raising  chickens: 
Books  on  planes  ...  it  beats  the  dickens 
That  no  matter  what  your  dream 
There's  a  book  upon  the  theme! 
Read  and  take  your  satisfaction- 
Save  yourself  all  wearing  action. 
If  you  merely  want  to  cook. 
There's  a  book! 

— B.  Y.  Williams 


i\ 


4 


Be   sure  to   listen   to   Ted   Malone's   program   Monday   throogfa 


>»* 


^ 


\*       •* 


^'V^  ■^■> 


%^x 


':'Mi 


I 
I 


ii 


mimnMipBp 


■>*«'*SW«St;!'^!-i 


•j  in  TTiflriWif  liiT.f. 


.-...  V. 


There . 

I  suppose  there  are  a  lot  of  things  we  could  say  about  a  June  page  of  poetry  .  .  .  even  the  June  bug 
sometimes  has  a  place  in  a  poem.  But  the  most  important  reason  for  these  brief  verses — is  not  so  brief.    It's  as 
long  as  all  the  summers  and  winters  you've  known  .  .  .  as  wide  as  the  sea,  as  high  as  the  sky  .  .  . 
as  long  as  a  lifetime.   It's  as  full  as  two  who  spend 

their  lifetime  together,  can  make  it.   Vows,  and  wedding  cake  .   .   .  cook  books  .   .   .  slippers  .  .   .  pipes  .   .  . 
late  snacks  in  the  kitchen  .  .  .  soap  suds,  pots  and  pans    .    .    .    doctors,  and  bills    .    .    .    tears    ... 
laughter  .  .  .  and  cookie  jars  for  somebody  about  so  high.    A  June  page  of  poetry, 
for  you  .   .   .  for  all  of  us  .   .   .  for  a  lifetime. 

—TED  M ALONE 


MESSAGE 

Remember  me  when  bells  of  summer 

waken 
And  young  hearts  soar  beyond  the 

drifting  cloud. 
When  eyes  are  quick  to  glow,  and 

hearts  are  shaken 
By  sudden  rapture,  passionate  and 

proud. 
When   bees   are   noisy   in  the  fragrani 

clover 
And  winging  swallows  challenge  sky 

and  sea. 
When  love  is  iie-d  and  summer's  dream 

is  over. 
Remember  me  .  .  . 

— Sydney  King  Russell 


POSSIBILITIES 

Please,  darling,  do  not  be  offended 
When  I  say  you  were  not  intended 
To  be  a  "perfect"  husband.    You 
Have  much  too  separate  a  view 
About  so  many  things,  and  can. 
At  times,  be  quite  a  trying  man  .  .  . 
But  I  am  happier  by  far 
With  you  exactly  as  you  are. 
It  leaves  a  chance  for  me  to  try 
To  change  you,  somewhat,  by  and 


by! 


H.  Dewhurst 


IT  ALL  ADDS  UP 

If  women  seem  more  wise  than 

men. 
It  probably  is  so 
Because,  in  kno-wing  they  know 

less. 
They    know^    more    than    they 

know. 

— ^Faye  Chilcote  Walker 


MEASUREMENTS  BY 
A   FOUR-YEAR-OLD 

Heaven   !s  as  high 
As  the   pantry  shelf 
Where  he  can  reach  cookie 

jars 
All  by  himself. 
Earth  is  as  gay 
As  his  puppy's  bark. 
And  peace  means  watching 
A  meadow  lark. 
Grief  is  as  cold 
As  a  dead  June  bug 
And  solace  as  swift 
As  his  mother's  hug. 
The  world's  as  wide 
As  his  father's  grin, 
And  contentment  comes 
In  a  mudpie  tin. 

— Kathleen  Emmert 


KNOWLEDGE 

Across  the  heights  and  hollows  of  the  years. 

The  pale  gold  summer  moons  have  seen  me 
weep. 

The  winter  dawns  have  marked  my  futile  tears 

For  all  the  things  I  could  not  have,  nor  keep. 

One  lesson  I  have  learned  of  tears  and  grief; 

The  seeming  precious  gifts  for  which  1 
yearned. 

Have  no  more  value  than  a  fallen  leaf. 

But  oh,  the  price  I  paid  for  what  I  learned. 

— Marie  Erwin  Ward 


RADIO  MIRROR  WILL  PAY  FIFTY  DOLLARS 

for  the  best  original  poem  sent  in  each  month  by  a  reader. 
Five  dollars  will  be  paid  for  each  other  origirial  poem  used 
on  Between  the  Bookends  pages  in  Radio  Mirror.  Limit 
poems  to  30  lines,  address  to  Ted  Malone,  Radio  Mirror, 
205  E.  42  N.  Y.  17,  N.  Y.  When  postage  is  enclosed,  every 
effort  will  be  made  to  return  unused  manuscripts.  This 
is  not  a  contest,  but  an  offer  to  purchase  poetry  for  our 
Bookends  pages. 


Friday    mornings    at    11:30    EDT    over   ABC 


fp 


1 

\ 


11 


LITTLE  BOY  AT  THE  FMIM 

Radio    Mirror's   Prize    Poem 

He  picked  the  wild  strawberries;  smelled  the  clover: 
Aod  ate  the  clover-honey  in  the  comb. 
He  stored  at  graceful  swallows  skimming  over 
The  rippling  wheat,  grown  in  the  rich  black  loam. 

He  chased  the  chickens;  picked  the  pink  shellflowers. 
And  went  with  grandfather  each  time  to  milk; 
He  doddled  hay-cocks  in  the  sunset  hours. 
And  curried  horses'  flanks  as  smooth  as  silk. 

He  dreamed  long  boy-dreams  stitched  with  gold  and 
glory, 

Roofed  over  with  the  jewel-weed  and  broom, 

And  for  a  bedroom  chose  the  whole  third  story 

Which  once  had  been  his  own  dear  father's  room. 

Hp  often  stood  spell-bound  .  .  .  his  eyes  went  stray- 
ing 

To  miracles  .  .  .  fresh-made  and  beautiful. 

He  did  not  know  he  set  the  files  to  playing  ... 

In  grownup  hearts  ...  he  w^as  the  miracle! 

— Eunice  Mildred  LonCoske 


BACHELOR  BEWARE 

When  she  asks  you  over  frequently 
To  gorge  on  the  gwgeous   meats  she 

con  moke, 
She's  casting  her  bread  on  Ihe  vrafers, 

but  she 
Expects  it  bock  as  wedding  cake! 
—Thomas  Usk 


DOWN  TO  EARTH 
I  do  not  vow*  undying  love. 
Nor  forego  all  flirtation; 
I  swear  not  by  the  stars  above. 
To  spare  you  mild  vexation. 

I  make  no  ardent  vows,  but  you. 
May  find  some   compensation. 
In  knowing  you  have  forced  me  to 
Complete  domestication. 

— Cathryn  Green 


SONG  FOR  BOOKS 

Books  on  gardening;  books  on  bugs; 
Books  on  hboking  arty  rugs; 
Books  on  how  to  set  the  table; 
Books  on  trapping  mink  and  sable; 
Books  on  skiing;  books  on  Rome; 
Books  on  how  to  buiki  a  home; 
On  preventing  soil  erosion; 
On  combatting  on  explosion; 
Books  on  charm;  on  raising  chickertN,- 
Books  on  planes  ...  it  beats  Ihe  dicl^ons 
That  no  matter  what  your  dream 
There's  a  book  upon  the  theme! 
Read  and  take  your  soHsfacKon— 
Save  yourself  all  wearing  action. 
If  you  merely  wont  to  cook, 
There's  a  book! 

— B.  Y.  Williams 


Be   sure   to   listen   to  Ted    Malone's   program   Monday   tfarov:h 


I  suppose  there  are  a  lot  of  things  ive  could  say  abotit  o  June  page  of  poetry  .  .  .  even  the  June  buu 
sometimes  has  a  place  in  n  poem.   Hut  the  most  important  reason  for  these  brief  verses — is  not  so  brief.    It's  <i>i 
long  as  all  the  summers  and  winters  you've  knotvo   .  .  .  as  wide  ns  the  sea,  as  high  as  the  sky 
as  long  as  a  lifetime.    Ifs  as  full  as  two  who  spend 

their  lifetime  together,  can  make  it.    Vows,  and  wedding  cake  .    .   .  cook  books  .    .   .  stipiMtrs  .  pipes 

late  smtcks  in  the  kitchen  .  .  .  soap  suds^  pots  and  pans    .    .    .    doctors,  and  hiUs    .    .    .    tt^irs 
laughter  .  .  .  and  cookie  jars  for  somebody  about  so  high.    A  June  jtage  of  poetn.. 
for  YOU  .    .    .  for  all  of  us  .   .   .  for  a  lifetime. 

TF.D  MALONE 


MESSAGF. 

Remember  me  when  bell^  of  summer 

waken 
And  young  hearl:>  soar  beyond  the 

drifting  cloud. 
When  eyes  are  quick  to  plow,  and 

hearts  are  shaken 
By  •sudden  rapture,  passionate  and 

proud. 
When   bePf-   are   noisy   in   the   fragrant 

clover 
And  winging  swallows  challenge  sky 

and  sea. 
When  love  is  fled  and  summer's  dream 

is  over. 
Remember  me  .  .  . 

— ^Sydney  King  Russell 


POSSIBILITIES 

Please,  darling,  do  not  be  offended 

When  I  say  you  were  not  intended 

To  be  a  "perfect"  husband.    You 

Have  much  too  separate  a  view 

About  so  many  things,  and  can. 

At  times,  be  guite  a  trying  man  .  .  . 

But  I  am  happier  by  far 

With  you  exactly  as  you  are. 

It   leaves  a  chance  for  me   to   try 

To   change   you,   somewhat,   by   and   by! 

— S.  H.  Dewhurst 


IT  ALL  ADDS  UP 

If  women  seem  more  wise  than 

It  probably  is  so 

Because,  in   knowing  they  know 

less. 
They    know    more    than    they 

know. 

— Faye  Cfiilcote  Walker 


MEASUREMENTS  in 
A   FOUR-YEAROLI) 

Heaven  !s  as  h!gh 
As  the  pantry  shelf 
Where  he  can  reach  cookie 

jars 
All  by  himself. 
Earth  is  as  gay 
As  his  puppy's  bark, 
And  peace  means  watching 
A   meadow  lark. 
Grief  is  as  cold 
As  a  dead  June  bug 
And   solace   as  swift 
As  his  mother's  hug. 
The   world's   as   wide 
As  his  father's  grin, 
And  contentment  comes 
In  a  mudpie  tin. 

— Kathleen   Emmert 


Friday    mornings    at    11:30    EDT    over    ABC 


KNOWLKDC! 

Across  the  heights  and  hollows  of  the  years. 

The  pole  gold  summer  moons  hove  seen  me 
weep. 

The  winter  dawns  have  marked  my  futile  tears 

For  all  the  things  1  could  nol  hove,  nor  keep 

One  lesson  I  have  learned  of  tears  and  qriel; 

The   seeming   precious   gifts   for   which   I 

yearned, 

Have  no  more  value  than  a  fallen  leaf, 
But  oh,  the  price  I  paid  for  what  I  learned 

— Marie  Erwin  Won! 


RADIO  MIKROK  WILL  PAY  FIFTY  DOLLARS 

for  the  best  original  poem  sent  in  each  month  by  a  reader. 
Five  dollars  will  be  paid  for  each  other  original  poem  used 
on  Between  the  Bookcnds  pages  in  Radio  Mirror.  Limit 
poems  to  30  lines,  address  to  Ted  Malonc,  Radio  Mirror. 
205  E.  42  N.  Y.  17,  N.  Y.  When  postage  is  enclosed,  every 
effort  will  be  made  to  return  unused  manuscripts.  This 
is  not  a  contest,  bu(  an  oflFer  to  purchase  poetry  for  our 
Bookends  pages. 


"^  ^ 


% 


■^ 


By   JOAN   DAVIS 

Mary  Jane  Higby  plays 
Joan  Davis,  heroine  of 
When  A  Girl  Marries, 
Man.    through    Fri.,   5 


Sympathetic  understanding,  an  unbiased  point 
of  view,  a  knowledge  of  the  ways  of  happiness 
— these  are  the  basis  for  Joan's  advice  to  you 


A 


■4'// 


THE  problem  in  April  Radio  Mirror  which  I 
asked  all  of  you  to  help  me  answer  con- 
cerned a  widow  whose  son  was  about  to  be 
married,  and  who  did  not  w^ish  to  continue 
living  with  him  after  the  marriage.  The  editors 
of  Radio  Mirror  have  chosen  the  answer  sub- 
mitted by  Mrs.  Annabel  Clay,  of  San  Diego, 
California,  as  the  most  discerning  of  all  those 
submitted.  A  check  for  $25  has  been  sent  to 
Mrs.  Clay.  Here  is  her  answer  to  the  problem: 
"It  is  the  son's  right  to  marry,  of  course,  but 
it  is  also  the  mother's  right  to  have  a  home. 
Her  decision  that  the  young  people  should  be 
alone  is  a  good  one.  But,  having  lived  with 
the  son  for  some  time,  it  seems  to  me  that  her 
problem  becomes  his  probleni,  too.  She  is  un- 
able to  do  anything  but  light  work — he  should 
assume  the  added  responsibility  of  augmenting 
any  small  income  she  has  or  can  earn,  to 
assure  her  comfort.  She  has  long  cared  for  him 
— perhaps  even  giving  up  the  very  years  when 
she  might  have  worked  and  saved,  to  make  a 
home  for  him — and  she  is  now  insuring  his 
happiness  by  not  wanting  to  intrude  on,  and 
rxm  the  risk  of  harming,  his  new  life.  If  he  has 
not  thought  of  this,  I  beHeve  she  should  talk 
to  him,  discuss  the  things  she  might  be  able 
to  do,  such  as  baby-sitting,  working  as  a 
companion,  etc.,  and  decide  what  the  differ- 
ence will  be  between  what  she  will  be  able  to 
earn  and  what  she  will  need  to  live  on.  They 
ought  to  be  able,  mother  and  son,  to  work 
out  their  problem  together." 

NO  MEETING  GROUND 

Dear  Joan  Davis: 

I  have  been  going  with  a  young  man  for 
three  years.  He  is  good-looking,  thoughtful, 
and  the  life  of  all  parties.  However,  he  is 
extremely  irr-esponsible. 

Of  late,  oiu:  arguments  have  become  more 
and  more  frequent  and  they're  all  over  finan- 
cial matters.  He  makes  very  good  money  but 
manages  to  save  nothing.  He  has  promised 
continually  to  save,  but  being  the  good  fellow 
he  is,  and  seemingly  not  knowing  the  value 
of  a  dollar,  it  just  slides  through  his  hands. 

We  have  made  plans  to  be  married,  but  I 
refuse  to  be  married  on  a  shoestring,  as  there 


are  too  many  things  people  need  after  they're 
married  without  going  into  it  penniless.  Most 
people  say  love  is  all  important,  but  I  firmly 
believe  that  without  a  certain  amount  of 
money,  at  least  enough  so  you  don't  have  to 
worry  where  your  next  five  dollars  is  coming 
from,  love  grows  rather  weak. 

I  have  thought  of   {Continued  on  page  94) 


Each  month  Joan  Davis  will  answer  as  many 
letters  as  she  has  room  for  on  any  problems 
concerning  marriage,  except  problems  of 
health  or  law.  No  letters  can  be  answered 
personally.  Joan  will  choose  from  these  letters 
each  month  a  problem  which  she  will  ask  you, 
the  readers,  to  answer. 

RADIO  MIRROR  WILL  PAY  $25.00 

to  the  person  whose  problem 
letter  is  chosen  and 

ANOTHER  $25.00  WILL  BE  PAID 

to  the  person  submitting  the  best  answer  to 
that  problem  in  the  opinion  of  the  editors, 
whose  decision  wiU  be  final.  No  letters  will 
be  returned.  Address  Joan  Davis,  Radio 
Mirror  Magazine,  205  East  42nd  Street,  New 
York  17,  N.  Y.  Prize  answers,  with  the  name 
of  the  winner,  will  be  printed  each  month. 
Winner  of  the  prize  for  the  month's  best 
problem  will  be  notified  by  mail,  as  those  who 
submit  problems  usually  prefer  not  to  have 
their  names  used  in  the  magazine. 

Here  is  this  month's  problem: 

Mrs.  W.,  whose  husband  is  unusually  attrac- 
tive to  women,  is  unaware  that  he  has  been 
dating  a  girl  from  his  office.  Mrs.  Ws  best 
friend  knows  of  this  association,  as  do  many 
other  people  in  town ;  and  the  friend  knows 
too  that  although  Mr.  W  has  not  transgressed 
before,  his  interest  in  the  girl  appears  serious. 
The  problem  is  the  friend's:  should  she  tell 
Mrs.  W  about  her  husband? 

What  is  your  answer  to  this  problem? 


Around  the  Erwins,  Hal  Roach 
(r.)    has    bnilt   a    TV    series. 


RADIO    miRltOR 

TELMSIOI 


sxcTionr 


Candy  McDoweU,  Stu  Erwin,  Joan  Marlowe,  Mrs.  Erwin  of 
Life  With  The  Erwins  pose  tintype-fashion  jnst  for  fan. 


WITH  THE  p     W    \  ^ 


MOTION  picture  theaters  may  be  worried  about  the 
rapid  rise  of  television,  but  Hollywood  has  noth- 
ing to  fear,  according  to  Hal  Roach,  Jr.,  who 
reminds  us  that  Hollywood  has  always  been  concerned 
with  visual  entertainment. 

Mr.  Roach,  whose  dad  was  a  pioneer  in  films,  is  now 
doing  a  little  pioneering  of  his  own.  The  Roach  and 
Beaudette  enterprises  have  been  working  on  television 
films  for  more  than  a  year  and  have  come  up  with  a 
series  of  half  hour  program  films  called  Life  with  the 
Elrwins.  The  husband  and  wife  stars  of  this  family-life 
series  are  Stuart  Erwin  and  his  pretty  wife,  Jtone 
Collyer,  neither  of  them  strangers  to  the  flickers.  A 
second  series  called  Don't  Be  a  Sucker  deals  with  the 
rackets  to  which  an  average  citizen  may  be  exposed. 
All  are  being  turned  out  on  the  six  big  stages  of  their 
Hollywood  studio. 

"We  work  with  about  fifty  standing  sets,"  says  Mr. 
Roach.  "If  we  were  making  movies  for  theaters  the  sets 
would  be  disposed  of  when  we  got  through  willi  them, 
but  for  the  smaller  TV  screen  we  can  use  the  same 
sets  over  and  over,  keeping  costs  within  a  TV  budget." 

Another  advantage,  Mr.  Roach  points  out,  is  that 
Stars  can  be  used  when  available.  "In  twenty-six  days 
we  can  do  thirteen  half  hour  films.  Then  the  star  can 
leave  the  lot  and  go  on  to  something  else.  We  will  have 
'protection'  shots  and  we  will  retain  the  power  to  edit." 

Doing  the  "Erwins"  series.  Roach  learned  the  limita- 
tions of  the  small  television  screen.  There  are  fewer 
longshots  and  more  close-ups  in  television.  There  are 
lighting  problems.  "Actors  must  be  grouped  closer  to 
the  center  of  the  screen,"  he  explains.  "The  more 
people  used,  the  more  the  action  is  slowed  down." 

He  points  out  that  all  of  Hollywood  now  produces 
less  film  than  is  necessary  to  serve  one  television  net- 
work, and  he  emphasizes  the  amount  of  film  that  wiU 
soon  be  needed  to  augment  the  live  shows  on  television. 
And,  according  to  Hal  Roach,  Jr.,  there's  only  one 
place  that  has  the  studios,  the  stars  and  the  know-how 
to  provide  these  endless  reels  of  film.  That  place,  he 
says,  is  HoUjrwood. 


Chuck  looked  at  Jack;  Jack  looked  at  Chuck. 

"We're  naturals  for  television,"  said  Jack. 

"Check,"  said  Chuck. 

That  was  a  year  ago,  and  the  Luchsinger  brothers 
have  been  combining  their  talents  ever  since  for  Car- 
toon Teletales,  an  ABC  network  show. 

Chuck  is  a  well  known  cartoonist  and  Jack  is  an 
actor.  Chuck  draws  pictures  to  illustrate  stories  that  he 
writes  for  the  show,  while  Jack  reads  the  stories  out 
of  a  big  book  whose  very  size  must  delight  every 
child.  These  Teletales  revolve  about  such  interesting 
characters  as  Hey  You  the  Lion,  BumsnifE  the  Blood- 
hound, Hambone  the  Possum,  Herman  the  Stupid 
Cupid,  and  all  their  kin  and  neighbors. 

The  story  finished,  there's  a  simple  lesson  in  how 
to  draw  the  main  character.  Chuck  sets  the  pace  and 
his  young  viewers  draw  right  along  with  him.  They 
send  these  efforts  in,  and  those  judged  good  enough 
for  the  "art  gallery"  are  rewarded  with  a  drawing  pen- 
cil. The  "artist  of  the  week"  rates  a  special  drawing  kit. 

And  don't  think  only  the  kiddies  send  in  their  stuff. 
For  instance,  7-year-old  Gail  Rafferty  sent  a  fine 
drawing  of  Torpy  the  Turtle.  Along  with  it  came  a 
similar  effort  signed  "John  Rafferty,  Gail's  Dad." 
Chuck  thinks  Gail's  drawing  has  a  sUght  edge. 

Producer  of  Cartoon  Teletales  is  Barre  Schlaes,  and 
the  time  is  Sunday  evening,  6  P.M.  EDT,  5  P.M. 
CDT,  over  the  ABC  eastern  and  midwest  networks. 


Six-year-old  "art  stndent"  Rnth  Lawrence  works  hard  over 
the  cartoon  that  may  win  her  the  title  "artist  of  the  week.'' 


Jack  and  Chuck  Luchsinger  find  ABC's  Cartoon  Teletales 
a  perfect  medinm  for  their  talents.  Chnck  (left),  draws 
the  cartoons;  Jack  (above),  reads  the  story  against 
the     castle     backdrop     which     enchants     young     listeners. 


RADIO    MIRROR 


TELEVISION 


SECTION 


pp 


IJJ 


u 


] 
J 


99 


n 


i_ 


Behind-scenes  at  "Miracle  in  the  Rain,"  we 

learn  why  any  TV  drama  production  is — almost — a  miracle ! 


I.  'You'll  have  to  be  in  practically 
two  places  at  once,"  director  Gordon 
DufF  <l.)  warned  star  Mary  Ander 
son,  to  co-star  John  Dall's  amusement. 


S.  That  umbrella  was  no  gag.  Real  water  poured 
from  a  shower  high  above,  soaking  actors  and  floor. 
Twice  during  the  final  on-set  rehearsals  the  action 
had   to   be   halted  while   sawdust   soaked   up   overflow. 


THESE  pictures  can't  half 
convey  the  excitement,  the 
-  work  and  the  thrill  of  pro- 
ducing a  half-hour  video  play. 
They  do  take  you  behind  the 
scenes  and  show  something  of 
how  the  wheels  go  'round.  The 
play  was  Ben  Hecht's  "Miracle 
in  the  Rain,"  produced  for 
Chevrolet  on  Broadway  by 
Owen  Davis,  Jr.  The  stars  were 
John  Dall,  of  movies  and  the 
Broadway  stage,  and  Mary 
Anderson,  whose  "Miracle" 
role  marked  her  second  Chev- 
rolet appearance  in  one  month. 
A  cast  of  more  than  twenty 
and  twice  as  many  in  crew 
worked  to  split-second  timing 
on  eight  sets  spread  horseshoe 
fashion.  Said  Dall  of  his  video 
debut,  "The  most  concentrated 
acting  I've  done." 

Chevrolet  on  Broadw^ay  is 
heard  and  seen  Monday  nights 
at  8: 30  EDT,  NBC-TV  network. 


9.  John  Dall  rehearses  a  one-finger  solo. 
His  movie  and  stage  roles  have  been 
melodramatic  lately;  he  enjoyed  playing 
in    "Mira<'le'"s   sentimental  love   story. 


10.  Split-second  timing :  an  assistant 
stood  by  to  help  Mary  into  a  negligee 
required  for  her  next  scene  on  which 
the   cameras   were  already  focusing. 


52 


RADIO    MIRROR    TELEVISION     SECTION 


2.  Little  did  young  John  realize 
as  he  inspected  his  wardrobe  for 
the  play  that  he  too  would  be  run- 
ning a  marathon  before  il  wa^i  over. 


3.  By  the  time  stars  were  ready  for 
final  make-up  they  were  well  aware 
that  this  was  one  of  the  most  com- 
plex short  plays  ever  done   on  TV  . 


4.  "Chalk  marks  spot  where  you 
stand  in  this  scene,"  Dall  was 
tohl.  All  such  details  were  fully 
planned    during    camera    rehearsals. 


7.  Quiet  moment — but  it  was  just  a  restaurant  scene  rehears- 
al, and  it  didn't  last  long.  Shortly  all  three  (the  third  one 
is  Viola  Frayne,  who  played  Mary's  boss, I  scurried  madly 
into  the  next  scene,  an  auctioneer's  booth  on  the  sidewalk. 


8.  The  man  with  the  mop  was  one  of  the  busiest 
crew  members.  After  each  rain  rehearsal  the  oil- 
cloth-covered floor  had  to  be  dried  off  fasl  before 
the  whole  set  became  inundated   and  floated   awa\. 


11.  Play's  climax  came,  as  Mary  read 
telegram — "The  Secretary  of  War 
desires  that  I  tender  his  deepest 
sympathy  to  you  in  the  death  of  .  .  ."' 


12.  Technical  triumph :  rear  camera 
and  camera  nosing  through  altar  were 
so  expertly  timed  that  neither 
caught    the    other    on    the    TV    screen. 


RADIO    MIRROR      TELEVISION      SECTION 


13.  Last-minute  prop  check-up 
ound  Mary  grateful  for  one 
xene  where  she  Iiad  to  stretch  out 
ind     relax,     if     only     a     moment! 

53 


Pp 


Behind-scenes  at  "Miracle  in  the  Rain,"  we 

learn  why  any  TV  drama  production  is — almost — a  miracle! 


I.  "'VouM!  have  to  be  in  practically 
iwo  places  at  once,"  director  Gordon 
Duff  n.)  warned  star  Mary  Ander- 
son, ro  co-star  John  Dall's  amusement. 


^^^^F^  '-'^^^ 

n 

fir^H 

n 

2.  Little  did  young  John  realizt- 
as  he  inspected  his  wardrobe  for 
the  play  that  he  too  would  be  run- 
ning a  marathon  before  it  was  over. 


'^.  By  the  lime  stars  were  ready  ior 
final  make-up  they  were  well  aware 
that  this  was  one  of  the  most  eoni- 
plex  short  plays  ever  done  on  T\  . 


1.  "(Ihalk  marks  spot  where  yon 
stanil  in  this  seene,"  Dnll  was 
told.  All  such  details  were  fully 
plnnned    during    eaniera    rehearsals. 


"i.  riiut  nnilirella  was  no  gag.  Real  water  poured 
li'otn  .T  >bower  high  above,  soaking  actors  and  floor. 
Twice  during  the  final  on-set  rehearsals  the  action 
had   to   be   halted   while   sawdust   soaked   up   overflow. 


THESE  pictures  can't  half 
convey  the  excitement,  the 
work  and  the  thrill  of  pro- 
ducing a  half-hour  video  play. 
They  do  take  you  behind  the 
scenes  and  show  something  of 
how  the  wheels  go  'round.  The 
play  was  Ben  Hecht's  "Miracle 
in  the  Rain,"  produced  for 
Chevrolet  on  Broadway  by 
Owen  Davis,  Jr.  The  stars  were 
John  Dall,  of  movies  and  the 
Broadway  stage,  and  Mary 
Anderson,  whose  "Miracle" 
role  marked  her  second  Chev- 
rolet appearance  in  one  month. 
A  cast  of  more  than  twenty 
and  twice  as  many  in  crew 
worked  to  split-second  timing 
on  eight  sets  spread  horseshoe 
fashion.  Said  Dall  of  his  video 
debut,  "The  most  concentrated 
acting  I've  done." 

Chevrolet  on  Broadway  is 
heard  and  seen  Monday  nights 
at  8: 30  EDT.  NBC-TV  network. 


'X  John  Dall  -.-ehearses  a  one-finger  solo. 
His  movie  and  stage  roles  have  been 
melodramatic  lately;  he  enjoyed  playing 
in    "Miracle"  's   sentimental   love   story. 


10.  Split-second  timing:  an  assistant 
stood  by  to  help  Mary  into  a  negligee 
required  for  her  next  scene  on  which 
the  cameras   were  already  focusini:. 


52 


RADIO    WIRROR    TELEVISION     SECTION 


II.  Play's  climax  came  as  Mary  read 
lelegram— "The  Secretary  of  War 
desires  thai  I  tender  his  deepest 
sympathy  to  you  in  the  death  of  .  .  . 


12.  Technical  triumph:  rear  camera 
and  camera  nosing  through  altar 
80  expertly  limed  ihal  neiihe 
caught    the    other    on    the    TV    screen 


\ 

13.  LaBl-minutc  prop  check-up 
ound  Mary  grateful  for  one 
ccne  where  she  luid  to  stretch  out 

md     relax.  '  if     only     a     moment! 

53 


RADIO 


»,o»o»    TFIFVISIO\    SECTlO^ 


Elsa  Maxwell,  who  was  a  recent 
guest  on  WNBT's  Who  Said  That? 
didn't      know      all     the      answers. 


Gower  and  Marge  Champion,  Johnny  Sands, 
recent  guests  on  Admiral's  Broadway  Revue. 


54 


(iWt  to  ([jMAt  ilL 


Two  new  Hollywood  television  shows  got  off  to  a  flying  start  this 
spring.   Although  they  are  completely  different  in  material,  the 

connecting  link  between  them  is  a  young  former  press  agent, 
Mai  Boyd. 

Boyd  got  interested  in  TV  last  summer  when  he  arranged  a 
panel  discussion  series  on  television  for  the  Screen  Publicists' 
Guild.  After  that  he  ate,  slept  and  dreamed  television.  As  a  result 
he's  now  producing  Punch  with  Buddy,  starring  Buddy  Rogers  of 
motion  picture  and  band  fame,  and  Hollywood  in  Three  Dimen- 
sions, a  variety  program  that  uses  fibn  players,  directors,  produc- 
ers and  other  behind-the-scenes  workers,  with  Boyd  acting  as 
master  of  ceremonies. 

Guest  on  the  first  Buddy  Rogers  show  was  Gloria  Swanson,  who 
learned  her  television  ABCs  in  New  York  where  she  conducted 
her  own  video  show  for  many  months.  She  arrived  at  station 
KLAC-TV  in  Hollywood  on  opening  night  with  a  pick  and  shovel, 
traditional  paraphernalia  of  the  pioneer,  which  she  presented 
formally  to  Buddy. 

The  opening  program  of  Hollywood  in  Three  Dimensions,  tele- 
east  Sunday  nights  over  KFI-TV,  brought  out  screen  star  Don 


RADIO    MIRROR      TELEVISION      SECTION 


TV-pioneer  Gloria   Swanson  gives  pick  and 
shovel  to  Buddy  Rogers  on  KLAC-TV  show. 


T 


DeFore  as  escort  to  his  pretty  wife,  who  guested  on  the  show. 
Don  was  a  busy  boy,  studying  the  make-up  and  lighting,  the  camera 
angles  and  scripts.  They  had  to  practically  push  him  off  the  set 
when  the  show  started  and  make  room  for  the  other  players,  who 
included  Sonny  Tufts,  Ellen  Drew  and  Charles  Brackett.  They 
Wouldn't  even  let  Don  guess  what  star's  career  the  "Object  Table" 
represented,  although  it  was  plain  that  the  toy  steamship,  minia- 
ture Eiffel  Tower,  suitcase,  little  skier  and  other  objects  summed 
"up  the  career  of  Claudette  Colbert. 

After  all,  they  reminded  the  thoroughly  satisfied  Don,  he  was 
only  a  husband  for  that  evening.  It  was  Mrs.  DeFore  who  was  the 
star.  And  a  very  attractive  one  too,  we  might  add. 

*         *         *  ^      . 

If  you  want  to  be  admitted  to  ABC's  Civic  Center  television 
studio  in  Chicago  from  4:00  to  5:00  on  Sxinday  afternoons,  better 
bring  Junior  or  little  JiU  cdong.  Ticket  requests  for  the  popular 
Super  Circus  program  have  mounted  so  high  that  a  new  ruling 
was  made  last  February  admitting  adults  only  if  accompanied  by 
a  child.  It  was  getting  so  that  all  the  grown  folks  were  crowding 
out  the  kids.    And  even  though  circuses  (Continued  on  page  97) 


Marion  DeFore  leaves  Don  (1.)  to  guest  with 
Sonny  Tnfts  on  H'wood  in  Three  Dimensions. 


"Reduce    by   television,"   says    Claire   Mann 
(standing)  and  shows  how,  M.-F.,  on  WNBT. 


RADIO   MIRROR     TELEVISION      SECTION 


Elsa  Maxwell,  who  was  a  recent 
guesl  on  WNBT's  Who  Said  That? 
ilidn^t      know      all     the      answers. 


Gower  and  Marge  Champion,  Johnny  Sands, 
recent  guests  on  Admirars  Broadway  Revue. 


TV-pioneer  Gloria  Swanson  gives  pick  and 
shovel  to  Buddy  Rogers  on  KLAC-TV  show. 


((Wt  to  ([jOtlAt  ill 


Two  new  Hollywood  television  shows  got  off  to  a  flying  start  tha 
spring.   Although  they  are  completely  different  in  material,  th 

connecting  link  between  them  is  a  young  former  press  agen; 
Mai  Boyd. 

Boyd  got  interested  in  TV  last  summer  when  he  arranged 
panel  discussion  series  on  television  for  the  Screen  Publicisti 
Guild.  After  that  he  ate,  slept  and  dreamed  television.  As  a  resul 
he's  now  producing  Punch  with  Buddy,  starring  Buddy  Rogers  o 
motion  picture  and  band  fame,  and  Hollywood  in  Three  Dimen 
sions,  a  variety  program  that  uses  film  players,  directors,  produc- 
ers and  other  behind-the-scenes  workers,  with  Boyd  acting  as 
master  of  ceremonies. 

Guest  on  the  first  Buddy  Rogers  show  was  Gloria  Swanson,  who 
learned  her  television  ABCs  in  New  York  where  she  conducted 
her  own  video  show  for  many  months.  She  arrived  at  station 
KLiAC-TV  in  Hollywood  on  opening  night  with  a  pick  and  shovel, 
traditional  paraphernalia  of  the  pioneer,  which  she  presented 
formally  to  Buddy. 

The  opening  program  of  Hollywood  in  Three  Dimensions,  tele- 
cast Sunday  nights  over  KFI-TV,  brought  out  screen  star  Don 


54 


RADIO    MIRROR      TEIEVISION      SECTION 


TElMSIOli 


DeFore  as  escort  to  his  pretty  wife,  who  guested  on  the  show. 
Don  was  a  busy  boy,  studying  the  make-up  and  lighting,  the  camera 
ingles  and  scripts.  They  had  to  practically  push  him  opf  the  set 
when  the  show  started  and  make  room  for  the  other  players,  who 
included  Sonny  Tufts,  EUen  Drew  and  Charles  Brackett.  They 
■AAOuldn't  even  let  Don  guess  what  star's  career  the  "Object  Table" 
•  epresented,  although  it  was  plain  that  the  toy  steamship,  minia- 
•ure  Eiffel  Tower,  suitcase,  little  skier  and  other  objects  summed 
ip  the  career  of  Claudette  Colbert. 

After  all,  they  reminded  the  thoroughly  satisfied  Don,  he  was 
only  a  husband  for  that  evening.  It  was  Mrs.  DeFore  who  was  the 
;jtar    And  a  very  attractive  one  too,  we  might  add. 

...  '      . 

If  you  want  to  be  admitted  to  ABC's  Civic  Center  television 
tudio  in  Chicago  from  4:00  to  5:00  on  Sunday  afternoons,  better 
iring  Junior  or  little  JiU  along.  Ticket  requests  for  the  popular 
super  Circus  program  have  mounted  so  high  that  a  new  ruling 
A^as  made  last  February  admitting  adults  only  if  accompanied  by 
a  child.  It  was  getting  so  that  all  the  grown  folks  were  crowding 
out  the  kids.    And  even  though  circuses   (Continued  on  page  97) 


Mnrion  DeFore  leavefi  Don  (I.)  lo  puesi  with 
Sonny  Tnfts  on  H'wood  in  Three  Dimensions. 


"Reduce   by   lelevision,"  says   Claire  Mann 
(slaniline)  and  shows  how,  M.-F.,  on  WNBT. 


RADIO    MIRROR      TEIEVISION      SECTION 


Lanny's  voice,  having  "rested"  during  his  army  career,  need- 
ed retraining.  Now,  its  romantic^ppeal  is  greater  than  ever. 


WORD'S  spreading  fast — Lanny  is  back! 
When  Lanny  Ross  disappeared  into  the 
Pacific  battlefront  for  three  year-s,  something 
more  important  than  an  entertainer  went  out  erf 
the  lives  of  many  radio  listeners.  His  present  mail 
shows  some  admirers  missed  Lanny  more  than 
they  did  their  butter  and  gasoline,  that  the  Return 
of  Ross  was  hailed  with  considerably  greater  joy 
than  the  return  of  cars  to  the  market. 

One  letter  begins,  "Dear  Lanny:  My  husband 
and  I  named  our  son  after  you.  Our  Lanny  is 
thirteen,  and  now  that  he  is  old  enough  to  appre- 
ciate your  program,  he  understands  the  qualities 
we  admire  in  you."  A  lonely  woman  in  a  home 
for  the  aged  writes  that  she  finds  solace  and 
inspiration  in  Lanny's  program.  Another  wife 
seems  a  bit  puzzled  as  she  recalls,  "During  our 
courtship,  Bob  and  I  hummed  'Moonlight  and 
Roses.'  It  gives  us  a  rather  tender  feeling  when 
we  hear  you  now,  although  we  were  married  in 
1934.  Is  it  possible  that  you've  been  on  the  air 
that  long?" 

Her  memory  is  quite  sound.  It's  not  only  pos- 
sible, it's  true. 

Before  he  graduated  from  Yale,  almost  twenty 
years  ago,  Lanny  began  his  singing  career.  Since 
then  his  songs  have  been  heard  on  many  of  the 
biggest  shows  in  the  history  of  American  radio. 
Yet  today  people  still  find  in  his  rich  voice  the 
same  qualities  of  friendliness  and  romance  that 
stirred  their  younger  hearts.   (Cont'd  on  page  74) 


On  TV:  the  Lanny  Ro«s  Show,  Thurs.,  8:30  P.M.   EDT, 
WNBT.  On  radio:   Lanny  Ross,  daily,  11:45  A.M.  MBS. 


One  of 
the  worlds 

GOOD  PEOPLE 


Lanny  Ross  is  back  .  .  .  with  a 
difference.    A  difference  not  in 
the  voice,  but  in  the  heart 

By    MARTIN    COHEN 


RADIO    MIRROR    TELEVISION     SECTION 


56 


1^ 


him  dvereom*  his  shyness,  ditf  sxjc'h 
■few  boW  enoysh  to  propi;- 


'V 


V 


? 


^  I 


t'^ 


■^ni^ 


♦^- 


\ 


-T 


T 


^S 


i    ^ 


1.  At  the  first  regional  Quiz  Kids  finals  in 
Elkhart,  Ind.,  Sales  Promotion  Mgr.  Oliver 
Capelle,  of  Miles  Laboratories,  was  "quizzer." 


t^   ZcUf   ^icU  CCf^  and  ^AXUAK 


Ross  PxTulson's  bright 
answers  won  him  a  bond, 
a  Chicago  trip,  a  title: 
Quiz   Kid   of   the   Quarter. 


ANY  mother  will  tell  you  a  child  doesn't  have  to 
live  in  Chicago  to  be  smart. 
Yet  being  within  easy  reach  of  NBC  studios 
in  the  Merchandise  Mart  helps  make  it  ofl&cial.  A 
youngster  may  be  tomorrow's  Einstein,  yet  if  his 
home  is  distant  he  has  had  little  chance  ever  to 
become  a  Quiz  Kid. 

Frustrating  as  this  has  been  to  geniuses,  junior 
grade,  it  has  worried  Charles  S.  Beardsley  more. 
As  chairman  of  the  board  of  Miles  Laboratories, 
sponsor  of  Quiz  Kids,  he  decided  to  do  something 
about  it. 

"Something"  turned  out  to  be  a  plan  to  duplicate 
the  program  in  a  number  of  cities.  Teachers  chose 
contestants  who  had  broad  general  knowledge  and 
ability  to  talk  about  it.  Winners  met  champions 
from  other  grades,  then  other  schools,  and  local 
stations  broadcast  their  battle  of  .words. 

In  Elkhart,  Indiana,  home  of  Miles  Laboratories, 
the  finals  drew  a  capacity  crowd  to  the  Elco  Theater. 
In  the  front  row,  schoolmates  cheered  their  color 
bearer  whenever  he  scored  on  a  question  fired  by 
Oliver  Capelle,  sales  promotion  manager  of  the 
company. 

When  Ross  Paulson,  a  {ContinueA,  on  page  101) 

Quiz  Kids  is  heard  Sundays  at  4  P.M.  EDT,  on.  the  NBC  network. 


E 


S; 


«wL»- 


2.  As  every  mother— and  many  teachers— can  tell  you,  there  are  bright  children  all  over  the  country.  The  Quiz  Kids  sponsors  agree; 
that's  why  they've  worked  out  a  plan  for  regional  Quiz  Kids  competitions  to  be  held  in  a  number  of  cities,  which  wiU  give  young 
geniuses  who  don't  happen  to  live  in  Chicago  (from  which  the  Quiz  Kids  program  broadcasts)  a  chance  to  shine.  Here's  a  tight  moment 
from  the  first  regional  competition  in  the  Elco  Theater  in  Elkhart,  from  which  Ross  Paulson  (second  from  left)   emerged  triumphant. 


|.  "Die  send-off  Central  Junior  High 
gave  Ross  was  made  uiore  mem- 
orable by  personal  congratula- 
lons  from  principal  Leima  A.  Neds. 


4.  In  Chicago  for  Quiz  Kids  ap- 
pearance, regional  wiimers  AUen 
Kitchen,  Ross,  Paul  Hannon  had 
a   gala   time   at  the   Bamboo   Inn. 


5.  Face  to  face  with  Chief  Quiz- 
zer  Joe  Kelly,  the  Quiz  Kids  of 
the  Quarter  were  scared,  but  game. 
They  all   came   out  winners,  too  ! 

59 


Together,  the  Cowlings  and  the  McNeills  crowd  even  a  goodsized  living  room.  On  the  couch :  Dell  Cowling,  Don,  DeU's  mother,  Mrs.  HammiUj! 
Tommy  McNeill  beside  his  mother,  Kay.    On  the  floor:  Sammy  and  Bill  Cowling;  Donny  and  Bobby  McNeill;  Behind  them,  Sam  Cowlii 


SO 


Don  McNeill's  Breakfast  Qub,  on  which  Sam  Cowling 
is  heard,  is  on'ABC,  Monday-Friday  at  9  A.M.  EDT. 


When  the  Cowlings  moved— bag. 
baggage  and  Mother-in- 


law— into  a  new  apartment,  their 


first  visitors  were  the 


McNeills.- Kay,  of  course,  was 


a  big  help.  On  the  other 


hand,  Don  and  the  boys  .  .  . 


BY   MRS.   SAM   COWLING 


I  WOULD  choose  a  time  when  the 
McNeills  came  to  visit  to  confide  that 

our  decorator  had  suggested  cocoa 
brown  walls  for  the  living  room. 

Of  course,  almost  immediately  we 
moved  into  the  new  apartment,  Don 
and  Kay  McNeill  and  the  boys  had  to 
see  it.  It  didn't  matter  to  them  that  we 
had  no  drapes  at  the  windows  and  that 
the  furniture  was  just  set  down  wher- 
ever we  could  find  space  for  it.  In  the 
many  years  that  Don  and  Sam  have 
worked  together  on  the  Breakfast  Club 
our  famiUes,  too,  have  formed  close  ties. 
Despite  the  fact  that  the  McNeills  live 
in  Winnetka,  and  we  Cowlings  are 
miles  away  on  the  edge  of  Chicago, 
there's  a  next-door-neighbor  relation- 
ship between  us.  It's  been  that  way  since 
Sam  joined  forces  with  Don,  years  ago. 
Years  ago — ^twelve  of  them,  to  be 
exact.  Sam — Samuel  Taggert  Cowling 
II — was  a  vocalist  then,  a  member  of  a 
trio  romantically  designated  as  The 
Three  Romeos,  and  all  the  rage  of 
Louisville.  Sam  and  I  were  married  in 
1936,  and  in  1937,  after  Sammy  was 
bom,  the  Romeos  headed  for  Chicago 
and  a  big  career. 

At  that  time,  the  Breakfast  Club  used 
specialty  acts  one  day  a  week,  and  the 
Romeos  were  booked  for  an  appear- 
ance. Always  irrepressible,  they  de- 
parted from  the  script  and  inserted 
some  private  jokes.  Not  content  to  keep 
them  to  theixiselves,  they  tossed  some 
of  their  banter  in  the  direction  of  the 
big,  pleasant-looking  fellow  who  ran 
the  show.  And  he,  being  Don  McNeill, 
tossed  it  back.  (Continued  on  page  103) 


61 


Together,  the  Cowlings  and  the  McNeills  crowd  even  a  goodsized  Uving  room.  On  the  couch:  Dell  Cowling,  Don,  Dell's  mother,  Mrs.  Haminill; 
Tommy  McNeill  beside  his  mother,  Kay.    On  the  floor:  Sammy  and  BUI  Cowling;  Donny  and  Bobby  McNeill;  Behind  them,  Sam  CowIio8- 


Don  McNeUIVBreoIifaataub,  on  which  SamCowUng 
is  heard,  is  on  ABC,  Moodar-Fridar  at  9  A.M.  EDT. 


When  the  Cowlings  moved— bag. 

l)Hggage  and  Mother-in- 

l;n\  —  into  a  new  apartment,  their 

first  visitor.s  were  the 

McNeills.-  Kay.  of  eoiirse.  was 

a  hig  help.  On  the  other 

hand.  Don  and  the  hoys  .  .  . 

BY   MRS.    SAM  COWLING 


1  WOULD  choose  a  time  when  the 
McNeills  came  to  visit  to  confide  that 
our  decorator  had  suggested  cocoa 
brown  walls  for  the  living  room. 

Of   course,   almost  immediately   we 
moved  into  the  new  apartment,  Don 
and  Kay  McNeill  and  the  boys  had  to 
see  it.  It  didn't  matter  to  them  that  we 
had  no  drapes  at  the  windows  and  that 
the  furniture  was  just  set  down  wher- 
ever we  could  find  space  for  it.  In  the 
many  years   that  Don  and  Sam  have 
worked  together  on  the  Breakfast  Club 
our  families,  too,  have  formed  close  ties. 
Despite  the  fact  that  the  McNeills  live 
in    Winnetka,    and    we    Cowlings    are 
miles   away   on   the   edge   of   Chicago, 
there's  a  next-door-neighbor  relation- 
ship between  us.  It's  been  that  way  since 
Sam  joined  forces  with  Don,  years  ago. 
Years   ago— twelve   of   them,    to   be 
exact.  Sam — Samuel  Taggert  Cowling 
II — was  a  vocalist  then,  a  member  of  a 
trio    romantically    designated    as    The 
Three    Romeos,    and    all    the    rage    of 
Louisville.   Sam  and  I  were  married  in 
1936,  and  in  1937,  after  Sammy  was 
bom,  the  Romeos  headed  for  Chicago 
and  a  big  career. 

At  that  time,  the  Breakfast  Club  used 
specialty  acts  one  day  a  week,  and  the 
Romeos  were  booked  for  an  appear- 
ance. Always  irrepressible,  they  de- 
parted from  the  script  and  inserted 
some  private  jokes.  Not  content  to  keep 
them  to  themselves,  they  tossed  some 
of  their  banter  in  the  direction  of  the 
big,  pleasant-looking  fellow  who  ran 
the  show.  And  he,  being  Don  McNeill, 
tossed  it  back.  (Continued  on  page  103) 


61 


A  tireless  worker, 
Bennett  welcomes  (and 
needs)  his  privacy. 


City  life  may  have  its  points,  but  Bennett  and  Dorothy  can't 


MR.  KEEN 


62 


By  MRS.  BENNETT  KILPACK 


Keen  is  Kilpack;  Kilpack  is  Keen. 

But  this  doesn't  confuse  Dorothy.    She  simply 

considers  herself  doiihly  blessed, 

and  finds  it  twice  as  easy  to  love  them  both 


MR.    KEEN,    Tracer    of   Lost    Persons,    has    been 
played  by   Bennett  Kilpack,  my   husband,   for 
more  than  eleven  years.  Or  perhaps  I  should  say 
that  my  htisband,  Bennett  Kilpack,  has  been  the  fa- 
mous radio  sleuth  for  more  than  eleven  years. 
At  any  rate,  the  two  are  inextricably  tied  together 
,   in  everyone's  mind — ^including,  sometimes,  in  mine. 
Kilpack  is  Keen,  and  Keen  is  Kilpack,  and  it's  im- 
possible  to   think,   or   talk,   about   one   without   the 
other.   Impossible,  certainly,  to  think  of  Bennett  not 
playing  the  role,  or  of  Mr.  Keen  bereft  of  the  voice 
and  the  manner  of  Bennett  Kilpack! 

Even  as  the  program  is  signing  off  the  air  each 
Thiirsday  night,  the  words,  "Bennett  Kilpack  plays 
Mr.  Keen"  hardly  out  of  the  mouth  of  the  CBS  an- 
noimcer,  telephone  calls  are  coming  into  the  net- 
work's switchboard— people  asking  to  speak  to  Mr. 
Keen,  please.  At  home,  at  parties,  friends  and  neigh- 
bors forget  to  remember  that  the  name  is  Kilpack. 
And  even  I,  after  eight  years  of  marriage,  have  been  - 
known  to  murmur,  "May  I  present  my  husband,  Mr 
Keen?" 

With  rare  exceptions,  Bennett's  fan  mail,  too,  is 
addressed  to  Mr.  Keen— teen-agers  asking  the  help 
of  the  kindly  Tracer  of  Lost  Persons  in  locating 
"missing"  boy  friends;  less  amusing,  more  heart- 
tugging  letters  from  people  whose  wives  or  husbands 
or  other  relatives  "simply  walked  out  one  day  and 
never  came  back."    Not    (Continued  on  page  91) 


They  want  a  house,  a  view,  and  a  chance  to   grow  things. 


Bennett  Kilpack  plays  Mr.  Keen,  Tracer  of  Lost  Persons.  Mr.  Keen, 
based  on  the  novel  of  the  same  name,  is  produced  by  Frank  and 
Anne  Hammert,    Thursday  nights  at  8:30  EDT,  on  CBS  network. 


Food  from  the  Kilpack's   carefully-tended   garden. 


A  man's  dream  of  homt . . .  made  real  by  Bennett  himself. 


63 


A  tireless  worker, 
Bennett  welcomes  (and 
needa)  ius  privacy. 


MR.    KEEN,   Tiacer   of   Lost   Persons,   has   been 
played   by   Bennett   Kilpack,   my   husband,   for 
more  than  eleven  years.  Or  perhaps  I  should  say 
that  my  husband,  Bennett  Kilpack,  has  been  the  fa- 
mous radio  sleuth  for  more  than  eleven  years. 

At  any  rate,  the  two  are  inextricably  tied  together 
in  everyone's  mind— including,  sometimes,  in  mine. 
Kilpack  is  Keen,  and  Keen  is  Kilpack,  and  it's  im- 
possible to  think,  or  talk,  about  one  without  the 
other.  Impossible,  certainly,  to  think  of  Bennett  not 
playing  the  role,  or  of  Mr.  Keen  bereft  of  the  voice 
and  the  manner  of  Bennett  Kilpack! 

Even  as  the  program  is  signing  off  the  air  each 
Thursday  night,  the  words,  "Bennett  Kilpack  plays 
Mr.  Keen"  hardly  out  of  the  mouth  of  the  CBS  an- 
nouncer, telephone  calls  are  coming  into  the  net- 
work's switchboard— people  asking  to  speak  to  Mr. 
Keen,  please.  At  home,  at  parties,  friends  and  neigh- 
bojs  forget  to  remember  that  the  name  is  Kilpack. 
And  even  I,  after  eight  years  of  marriage,  have  been 
known  to  murmur,  "May  I  present  my  husband,  Mr 
Keen?" 

With  rare  exceptions,  Bennett's  fan  mail,  too,  is 
addressed  to  Mr.  Keen— teen-agers  asking  the  help 
of  the  kindly  Tracer  of  Lost  Persons  in  locating 
"missing"  boy  friends;  less  amusing,  more  heart- 
tugging  letters  from  people  whose  wives  or  husbands 
or  other  relatives  "simply  walked  out  one  day  and 
never   came   back."    Not    {Continued  om   poge  91) 


house,  a  view,  and  a  cllaiice  lo  grow  things. 


Bennett  Kilvnok  pinys  Mr.  Keen,  Tracer  of  lo»l  Persons.  Mr.  Keen, 
hnned  on  IKe  novel  of  the  .umo  nome,  is  produced  l>y  Frank  and 
tnn..  niimm,rl,    Tl,,ir„l.,,    „ipl,i,  „,  8.30  EDT,  on  CBS  network. 


MR.KEE 

By  MRS.  BENNETT  KILPACK 

Keen  is  Kilpack;  Kilpack  is  Keen. 
But  this  doesn't  confuse  Dorothy.    She  simply 
considers  herself  doubly  blessed, 
,    and  finds  it  twice  as  easy  to  love  them  both 


Food  from   the   Kilpnck's  (>nrefiilly-leiided  garden. 


Most  likeli] 

to  SUCCEED 


By  KATE  SMITH 

RADIO  MIRROR 
FOOD  COUNSELOR 

Listen  to  Kate  Smith  Speaks 
at  12  Noon  each  weekday,  on 
stations  of  the  Mutual  network. 


GRADUATION  week  is  the  most  wonderful  time  to 
give  a  party — especially  if  you  plan  it  the  way.  my 
niece  did.  She  wasn't  an  experienced  cook,  but 
she  knew  the  tastes  of  her  teen-age  gang.  And  she 
planned  a  jferty  menu  for  them  that  was  just  right. 

The  dishes  she  picked  to  serve  were  quick-and-easies, 
with  special  appeal  for  hungry  young  people.  The  double 
decker  sandwiches  made  good  filler-uppers  for  the 
crowd.  The  punch  tasted  like  summer  itself,  full  of 
fresh  fruit  flavors.  The  big  party  cake  in  the  high 
school's  gold  and  blue  was  a  real  success. 

The  whole  decorative  theme  was  built  around  those 
school  colors.  My  niece  had  no  blue  platter,  so  she 
made  one  herself  to  look  like  a  graduation  hat.  Paper 
cups  and  plates  helped  carry  out  her  scheme. 

"It  was  no  job  at  all,"  said  she,  and  I  agreed.  Here 
are  the  recipes  she  used.  I've  included  some  of  my  own, 
so  you  can  pick  your  own  party  fare.  You'll  find  it 
fvin  to  "let  the  company  do  the  fixing." 

Mortarboard  Cake 

Bake  one  recipe  Devil's  Food  Cake,  using  a  mix  or 
the  recipe  below.  Make  with  Butter  Cream  Icing.  Color 
all  but  1/2  cup  of  the  icing  with  vegetable  coloring  to 
match  one  of  your  class  colors.  Spread  between  and  on 
top  and  sides  of  cake  layers.  Color  the  remaining  frost- 
ing in  other  class  color  and  use  to  make  '49  on  top  of 
the  cake.  Place  the  cake  on  a  paper  doily  over  a  mortar- 
board of  the  same  color  as  numerals.  The  mortarboard 
is  made  of  cardboard  covered  with  crepe  paper.  Dec- 
orate the  rim  of  the  cake  top  with  pennants,  made  this 


way:  Fold  a  piece  of  colored  crepe  paper.  Holding  it 
double,  cut  out  a  pennant  shape  with  the  straight  edge 
on  the  fold.  Open  and  brush  inside  surface  with  color- 
less nail  polish.  Fold  together  around  a  colored  tooth 
pick.   The  nail  polish  makes  the  pennant  curl. 

Devil's   Food   Cake 


1/2  cup  shortening 
1%  cups  sugar 
2  eggs 
2  squares  (2  oz.)  unsweetened 

chocolate,  cut  up 
1  cup  boiling  water 


1  tsp.  vanilla 

2  cups  sifted  cake  flour 
Vz  tsp.  baking  powder 

1  tsp.  soda 
1/2  cup  sour  milk 


Cream  shortening  until  light  and  fluffy.  Gradually 
add  sugar,  beating  well  after  each  addition.  Beat  the 
eggs  until  thick  and  lemon  colored;  add  to  the  creamed 
mixture  and  combine  thoroughly.  Pour  boiling  water 
over  chocolate  and  stir  until  smooth;  add  to  egg  mix- 
ture, stirring  until  color  is  even.  Mix  and  sift  dry  ingre- 
dients and  add  to  egg  mixture  alternately  with  sour 
milk,  beating  until  smooth  after  each  addition.  Pour 
into  two  greased  and  floured  9-inch  layer  cake  pans. 
Bake  in  moderate  oven  (350°  F.)  40  minutes  or  until 
top  springs  back  when  lightly  touched.  Makes  two  9- 
inch  layers. 


1/2  cup  butter  or  margarine 
4  cups  confectioners'  sugar 
sifted 


Butter   Cream   Frosting 

2  tsps.  vanilla 
dash  of  salt 

3  tbls.  cream 


Cream  butter  until  fluffy.   Gradually  beat  in  2  cups  of 
the  sifted  sugar.   Add  vanilla  {Continued  on  page  101) 


A  graduation  party  can't  help 
succeeding  when  devil's  food 
cake  and  fruit  punch  are  spe- 
cially dressed  for  the  occasion. 


RADIO    MIRROR    for    BETTER    LIVING 


R 

M 

65 


R 

68 


-Af  bou  A  hectrt  needi  a  nome^  his  toue  must  nave 
an  ancnor.     (I3ut  wneve  Li  he  to  turn  wnen  oitternedA 
ciluiaeA  tne  parents  wno  dkoula  oj-j-er'  tnli  i  ecu  fit  u  C 


RADIO  MIRROR  READER  BONUS 

The  Second  Mrs.  Burton  is  heard  Monday  through  Friday 
at  2  P.M.  EDT,  on  CBS.  This  incident  from  the  radio  drama 
appears   in    Radio    Mirror   for   the    first    time   in    story    form. 


w: 


HEN  YOU'RE  LITTLE,  Brad  thought,  the  grown-up 
world  is  something  like  a  movie.  The  people  talk  to 
you  and  give  you  things  and  make  a  fuss  over  you, 
but  their  real  thoughts  and  the  motives  behind  their  ac- 
tions are  as  mysterious  as  the  motives  in  the  occasional 
adult  movie  that  you  get  to  see. 

When  you're  sixteen,  it's  different.  Grown-ups  have 
become  people  to  you,  with  the  same  desires  and  fears 
that  you  yourself  know.  You  understand  them  almost — 
but  not  quite — all  of  the  time.  Sometimes  they  slip  back 
behind  the  screen  again,  become  mysterious  and  incom- 
prehensible again,  even  those  nearest  and  dearest  to  you. 
Like  Dad  and  Aunt  Terry  in  this  matter  of  his  custody. 

Years  ago,  when  his  mother  and  father  had  been  di- 
vorced, his  custody  had  been  awarded  to  his  mother, 
with  the  provision  that  he  could  spend  six  months  of 
each  year  with  his  father.  Now  for  the  past  eight  months 
he'd  been  living  in  Dickston  with  his  Dad  and  Aunt  Ter- 
ry. The  years  with  his  mother,  his  mother  herself,  had 
become  a  memory — a  fragrant,  restless,  sometimes- 
laughing,  sometimes-crying  memory.  This  was  real — 
the  house  on  Maple  Street,  and  school,  and  his  best 
friend,  Don  Cornwall,  and  his  dad  and  Aunt  Terry,  who 
was  Dad's  second  wife. 

Two  months  ago  his  father  had  asked  him  if  he  wanted 
to  stay  with  them  permanently.  He  mustn't  make  up  his 
mind  in  a  hurry,  his  father  had  said;  they  would  talk 
about  it  later.  And  then — and  this  was  the  puzzling  part 
— neither  his  dad  nor  Aunt  Terry  had  mentioned  the 
matter  again.  Not  until  tonight.  And  then  it  was  Brad 
himself  who,  only  half -intentionally,  started  the  discus- 
sion. 

He  was  on  the  porch,  reading  by  the  light  of  one  small 
lamp.  Outside  the  pale  gold  circle  it  threw,  the  summer 
night  was  dark  blue  velvet,  still  and  sweetly  scented  and 
peaceful.  Far  down  the  block  he  could  hear  his  father's 
footsteps  and  Aunt  Terry's  as  they  returned  from  their 
evening  walk.  As  they  came  under  the  street  lamp,  he 
saw  that  his  father's  arm  was  around  Aunt  Terry's  waist, 
and  she  leaned  against  him  a  little,  as  if  to  share  the 
weight  she  carried.  She  was  smiling  up  at  his  father  and 
saying  something;  he  could  hear  their  low  laughter.  The 
next  moment,  his  father  was  calling  from  the  porch  steps. 

"Brad?    You're  home?" 

He  leaped  to  open  the  door.  Aunt  Terry  took  the  last 
step  a  little  breathlessly,  and  thanked  him,  laughing. 

"You  didn't  have  to  leave  your  book.  Brad.  What  is  it 
— travel  again?" 

"India,"  said  Brad.  "Gosh,  if  I  could  only  see  some  of 
those  places!  Every  time  I  see  a  train,  or  hear  a  boat  on 
the  river — " 

"You'll  satisfy  that  itch  someday,"  his  father  laughed. 
"Meanwhile,  Terry  and  I  have  been  talking  about  where 
you  want  to  go  this  summer.  Have  you  any  thoughts  on 
the  matter?' 

"Where  I — Gee,  Dad,  aren't  you  and  Aunt  Terry  going 
to  take  a  vacation,  too?" 

"We  can't  very  well,  Brad,"  said  Aunt  Terry  gently. 
"With  the  baby  coming  in  September — " 
i  The  baby.  His  thoughts  stuck  every  time  they  came  to 
the  baby.  He  knew  how  happy  his  father  and  Aunt  Terry 
were  about  it;  he  was  glad  they  were  happy.  But  it 
would  be  their  baby;  this  pleasant  house  would  be  its 


home.  The  three  of  them,  Dad  and  Aunt  Terry  and  the 
baby  would  be  a  family,  coniplete  in  themselves. 

"I  forgot,"  said  Brad.  "I  don't  mean  about  the  baby, 
but  about  it  being  better  for  you  to  stay  home.  Well — 
Don  Cornwall's  invited  me  up  to  their  cabin  for  a  couple 
of  weeks.  I've  been  going  to  tell  you  about  it,  but  it'll 
cost  a  little  money,  for  my  share  of  the  food  and  equip- 
ment. I  was  hoping  to  be  able  to  pay  for  it  out  of  my 
salary  from  the  big  Burton  store,  but — " 

"Don't  worry,"  his  father  said.  "I  think  we  can  man- 
age. I — well — I  thought  we'd  be  hearing  from  your 
mother  about  summer  plans." 

"I  haven't  heard  from  Mother  in  a  long  time,"  said 
Brad  without  expression.  "Not  since  that  last  card  from 
Havana." 

For  a  moment  no  one  spoke.  The  last  card  had  been 
months  ago.  Then  Terry  said  quickly,  "Perhaps  she's 
away  on  another  cruise.  Brad.  Mail  is  awfully  irregular 
when  you're  on  a  boat.  And  I  think  the  idea  of  going  to 
the  woods  with  the  Cornwalls  sounds  wonderful.  Just 
think,  when  you  come  back,  you'll  probably  find  a  brand- 
new  brother  or  sister  waiting  for  you!" 

She  smiled  widely,  warmly,  trying  to  include  him,  as 
she  always  did  when  she  talked  about  the  baby.  Brad 
tried  to  smile  back — and  couldn't.  Suddenly  he  couldn't 
keep  it  inside  himself  any  more. 

"That's  right,"  he  said  in  a  tight,  small  voice.  "Only — 
it  won't  be  my  real  brother  or  sister,  will  it?"  And  turn- 
ing, he  snatched  up  his  book  and  ran  into  the  house  and 
up  the  stairs. 

Terry  and  Stan  Burton  faced  each  other  in  stricken 
silence.  "Oh,  Stan,"  Terry  said  in  a  low  voice.  "I've  tried 
to  make  him  feel — included — about  the  baby.  And  he's 
still  so  unhappy — " 

Stan's  arms  went  around  her.  They  stood  very  closely, 
drawing  strength  and  reassurance  from  one  another.  "It 
isn't  the  baby,"  Stan  said.  "That's-  only  a  symptom.  How 
can  he  be  happy,  basically,  when  he's  never  sure  from 
one  week  to  the  next  where  he'll  be?  And  yet,  it's  been 
two  months  since  I  spoke  to  him  about  our  having 
permanent  custody  of  him,  and  he  hasn't  said  a  word — " 

"Have  you?"  Terry  asked.  "I  know  that  you  don't 
want  him  to  feel  that  you're  pressing  him,  but  aren't  you 
being  over-careful?  It  he's  unable  or  unwilling  to  make 
up  his  mind,  he  doesn't  have  to  give  an  answer.  Tell  him 
that,  Stan.  Tell  him  we're  eager  to  have  him  with  us 
permanently,  but  that  if  he  doesn't  want  it  that  way, 
we'll  understand  perfectly." 

"Will  you  tell  him?"  Stan  asked.  "I  know  it's  a  lot  to 
ask,  but  you  can  do  it  more  tactfully  and  delicately.  If 
you  wouldn't  mind — " 

"You  don't  think  he'd  think  I  was  interfering?" 

"You  wouldn't  be  interfering,  Terry.  You'll  be  talking 
for  us.   Please — " 

Terry  nodded,  and  he  kissed  her.  Her  arms  went 
round  his  neck,  and  she  held  him  a  moment,  her  heart 
swollen  at  the  thought  of  how  much  he  trusted  her,  how 
much  he  placed  in  her  hands. 

Upstairs,  she  found  Brad  lying  on  his  bed,  reading — or 
pretending  to  read.  He  scrambled  up  as  she  came  in, 
cleared  her  favorite  low  rocker  of  an  assortment  of  ten- 
nis rackets,  balls  and  T-shirts.  Terry  sank  into  it  grate- 
fully, and  smiled  up  at  her  step-son. 


Terry     (The    Second    Mrs. 
Burton)  :    Patsy  Campbell. 


Brad  Burton  is  played 
by     Larry     Robinson. 


Stanley      Burton     is 
played  by  Dwight  Weist. 


67 


WHERE  THE  HEART  IS 


"Thanks,  Brad,"  she  said.  "Now  if  I  can  just  locate  my 
pet  squeak — " 

There  was  no  use  putting  off  the  important  question. 
Brad  smiled  as  the  rocker  squeaked,  but  his  eyes  waited 
inquiringly.  He  had  his  mother's  coloring,  her  blue  eyes 
and  bright  blond  hair,  but  his  expressions,  his  direct 
look,  were  his  father's. 

"Brad,"  Terry  said,  "a  few  minutes  ago,  when  we  were 
all  talking  about  the  baby,  you  said  that  it  wouldn't  be 
your  real  brother  or  sister.  What  did  you  mean  by  that, 
dear?" 

He  looked  uncomfortable.  "Well — you  know.  .  .  It'll 
belong  to  you  and  Dad,  really  belong  to  you.  And  since 
I  don't.  .  .  ." 

"Would  you  like  to,"  Terry  asked,  "really  belong  to 
us?" 

He  raised  startled  eyes.    "How  could  I?" 

"Don't  you  remember  what  your  father  talked  to  you 
about,  about  two  months  ago?  About  having  your  cus- 
tody changed?" 

"Oh,"  said  Brad  flatly.  "Sure,  I  remember.  Only — it 
isn't  the  same  as  the  real  thing." 

Terry  felt  her  throat  tighten.  Why  did  the  children 
have  to  be  the  ones  to  suffer,  she  wondered.  Why,  be- 
cause Stan  and  Marion  had  been  unable  to  live  together, 
could  a  young  boy  have  no  family  that  he  felt  was  "the 
real  thing"? 

"It  would  be  the  real  thing  as  far  as  we're  concerned," 
she  assured  him  earnestly.  "We  want  you.  Brad.  I  know 
that  your  father  told  you  there  was  no  need  for  you  to 
make  up  your  mind  in  a  hurry  and  that  you  could  go  on 
living  with  us — this  way — as  long  as  you  liked.  But  I 
know,  too,  that  in  his  heart  he's  anxious  for  your  de- 
cision. We  want  to   start  making  it   'the   real  thing.' " 


Lawyer  Van  Vliet  is  played  by  Rod  Hendrickson. 


Judge  Watson,  played 
by    Craig    McDonnell. 


Don  Cornwell  is  played 
by      Robert       Readick. 


68 


She  wondered  at  the  sudden  light  in  his  face. 

"Gosh,  Aunt  Terry!"  he  exclaimed.  "I  was  sort  of 
waiting  for  him  to  bring  it  up.  Sure,  I've  thought  about 
it,  a  lot.  And — well,  I  just  don't  know  what  to  say." 

"You  must  understand,"  Terry  said,  "that  whatever 
your  decision  is,  we'll  understand,  and  we'll  love  you  as 
much  one  way  or  the  other.  But,  just  so  you'll  have 
everything  straight,  perhaps  I  ought  to  explain  a  few 
things  first.  There's  no  reason  why  we  couldn't  go  on  as 
we  are,  without  any  further  legal  arrangements,  except 
some  day  it  might  happen  that  your  mother  might  dis- 
agree with  some  plans  your  father  may  have  for  you, 
and  which  you  might  want  to  go  through  with.  And  then, 
since  she  has  legal  custody  of  you,  she  would  have  the 
right  to  decide." 

Brad  frowned.  "Even  though  she  hasn't  seen  me  in 
such  a  long  time?  Even  though  she  mightn't  know  what 
I  wanted  to  do  about  it?" 

Terry  nodded.    "That's  the  law.  Brad." 

"You  mean — she  could  even  make  me  leave  here,  if 
she  wanted  to?" 

Again  Terry  nodded,  not  trusting  herself  to  speak.  The 
fear  that  Marion  might  any  day  do  that  very  thing  was 
too  close.  But  why  was  Brad  hesitating?  He  wanted  to 
stay  with  them;  she  was  as  sure  of  it  as  she  was  sure  that 
he  had  been  happy  here.  Then  why  the  doubt  in  his 
face? 

"How  would  it  happen?"  Brad  asked.  "I  mean — would 
I  have  to  do  anything  to  have  the  custody  changed?" 

"Well,  dear,  I'm  not  entirely  certain  of  the  legal  pro- 
cedure," Terry  answered.  "I  imagine  it  would  involve 
going  to  a  judge's  office  and  telling  him  what  you  wanted 
done  in  the  matter,  and  why.  Then  I  imagine  the  judge 
would  talk  to  your  father  and  to  your  mother — and  per- 
haps even  to  me — and  then  he  would  decide  whether  or 
not  the  custody  should  be  changed." 

"Mother  would  be  there,  too?" 

"I  think  so,"  Terry  said.  "Or  else  she'd  be  represented 
by  a  lawyer." 

Brad  stared  at  the  wall,  at  the  window,  where  the  cur- 
tains moved  gently  in  the  evening  breeze.  Finally,  he 
asked,  "Would  it  be — you  know — a  lot  of  crying  and  ar- 
guments and  fuss?  Would  there  be  a  lot  of  people  in  the 
courtroom,  listening,  and  a  jury  and  photographers,  like 
courtroom  scenes  in  the  movies?" 

Terry  began  to  understand.  "I  don't  think  so,"  she  an- 
swered, praying  silently  that  she  spoke  the  truth.  "I 
think  it  could  all  be  handled  fairly  and  quietly  and 
sensibly.  And  I  know  it  wouldn't  be  in  a  public  court- 
room. Matters  of  this  sort  are  handled  in  the  judge's 
chambers — that  is,  his  office." 

"And  you're  sure  Mother  wouldn't — "  But  he  didn't 
finish.  He  sat  very  still  for  a  moment,  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  hers.  Then  suddenly  all  doubt  left  his  face;  he  slid 
off  the  bed,  started  for  the  door. 

"Brad!    Where  are  you  going?" 

Brad  paused  at  the  door.  "Down  to  see  Dad,"  he  said 
over  his  shoulder.  "I'm  going  to  tell  him  I  want  to  be- 
long to  him  and  you — legally." 

Terry  sank  back  in  the  low  rocker,  aware  that  she  was 
trembling,  that  her  throat  was  dry.  She  fought  down  an 
impulse  to  follow  Brad,  to  warn  him  that  she  might  have 
promised  him  too  much  in  saying  that  there  would  be  no 
trouble.  Then  she  knew  that  she  couldn't.  It  was  too  late 
— and  besides,  now  that  Brad  had  made  up  his  mind,  she  j 
knew  that  she  couldn't  bring  herself  to  say  a  word  that 
might  shake  him.    No,  they  would  simply  have  to  sit 


Terry,  watching  Stan  and  Brad,  knew  that  her  husband's  son  would  always  be  as  dear  to  her  as  the  child  she  was  expecting. 


tight  and  see  it  through. 

For  the  next  several  days  the  household  walked  on 
eggs.  Stan  wrote  the  fatal  letter  immediately.  He  com- 
posed it  swiftly,  but  with  infinite  care,  and  mailed  it  the 
very  night  Brad  made  his  decision — and  was  berated  for 
it  afterward  by  his  lawyer,  the  old  and  irascible  Cor- 
nelius Van  Vliet.  It  was  a  good  letter,  Mr.  Van  Vliet  ad- 
mitted, but  he  suggested  that  Stan  might  have  done  bet- 
ter to  wait  and  let  him  write  Marion  a  legal  letter. 

"We  thought  of  that,"  Terry  said  in  Stan's  behalf.  "But 
knowing  Marion,  we  felt  that  she  would  resent  hearing 
about  it  in  such  a  cold  way." 

Mr.  Van  Vliet's  "Hmmf !"  indicated  that  he  didn't  think 
it  mattered  whether  Marion  resented  the  news  or  not. 
"You're  aware,  aren't  you,  that  you  could  have  applied 
for  custody  of  the  boy  without  notifying  Mrs. — what's 
her  name  now? — Sullivan,  without  notifying  Mrs.  Sulli- 
van at  all?" 

They  hadn't  known.  Their  glances  crossed,  with  the 
same  thought  uppermost  in  the  mind  of  each — could  they 
have  spared  Brad  the  scenes  that  were  sure  to  come  if 
Marion  decided  to  put  up  a  fight? 

"How?"  Stan  asked. 

"Very  simple,"  said  Mr.  Van  Vliet.  "Mrs.  Sullivan  has 
obviously,  in  the  legal  sense,  deserted  the  boy.  She  left 
him  with  you  some  eight  months  ago  and  went  off  to 
Havana.  Shortly  thereafter,  she  sent  him  a  television 
set  for  his  birthday,  then  a  post  card.  Since  then  none 
of  you  has  heard  from  her.  She  has  sent  no  funds  for  his 
care,  although  you  set  up  an  ample  fund  at  the  time  of 
the  divorce  to  cover  the  boy's  needs — " 

Stan  flushed.  That  Brad — and  Marion — had  been 
handsomely  provided  for  at  the  time  of  the  divorce  was 
common  knowledge.  It  was  known,  too,  that  he  no  long- 
er owned  the  big  Burton  department  store  in  Dickston 


and  that  he  was  making  a  living  out  of  one  small  shop 
in  which  he  hired  only  one  clerk. 

"There  was  no  need  for  her  to  send  money,"  he  said,  a 
trifle  coldly.  "It's  true  that  Brad's  been  working  this 
summer  at  the  big  Burton  store,  but  it  was  because  he 
wanted  to  work,  and — " 

"Still,"  interrupted  Mr.  Van  Vliet,  "Mrs.  Sullivan 
didn't  as  much  as  offer  to  send  you  any  funds.  It's  a  point 
the  court  will  observe.  What's  the  matter — "  he  broke 
off,  his  eyes  twinkling  at  the  sight  of  Terry's  face, — 
"does  it  all  sound  too  easy  to  you,  Mrs.  Burton?  Do  you 
think  Mrs.  Sullivan  will  be  difficult  about  this?" 

"I'm  afraid  she  will,"  Terry  admitted.  "She  doesn't 
want  Brad — I  mean,  really  want  him.  She's  been  leading 
a  gay  life  since  her  second  husband  died,  and  an  adoles- 
cent boy  would  only  be  in  her  way.  But  she  doesn't  give 
up  anything  easily,  even  when  it's  something  she  doesn't 
want.  As  soon  as  she  knows  someone  else  wants  it — " 
She  shook  her  head. 

"What  we're  afraid  of,"  Stan  put  in,  "is  the  effect  upon 
Brad  if  there's  a  battle.  When  he  first  came  to  us,  he  was 
hyper-sensitive,  insecure,  all  shut  up  within  himself. 
Since  then  he's  opened  up,  shown  every  sign  of  being  a 
happy,  normal  boy.  We'd  hate  to  have  him  upset  again." 

"I  don't  see  any  need  for  it,"  said  Mr.  Van  Vliet,  "nor 
for  you  to  anticipate  trouble.  The  facts  are  certainly  all 
in  your  favor.  Now,  if  you'll  call  me  as  soon  as  you  hear 
from  Mrs.  Sullivan — " 

But  the  days  passed,  and  there  was  no  answer  to  Stan's 
letter.  Terry  and  Stan  and  Brad  watched  for  the  post- 
man separately  and  secretly,  each  one  not  wanting  to 
admit  to  the  others  how  tense  he  was.  Terry  worried 
most  of  all  about  Brad.  He  took  to  staying  close  to  the 
house  when  he  wasn't  at  work,  spent  far  less  time  than 
he  used  to   with   his   closest    {Continued   on  page   76) 


69 


K 
M 

70 


INSIDE  RADIO 


All  Times  Below  Are  Eastern  Daylight  Time 
For  Correct  CENTRAL  DAYLIGHT  TIME,  Subtract  One  Hour 


H^^^H^^^^^^^I^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H 

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Harris 

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Show 
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with  Helen  Hayes 
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10:00 
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Who  Said  That!" 

Secret  Missions 
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Jimmie  Fidler 

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Ignorant 

>-^ 


K.  T.  STEVENS— is  the  newest  mem- 
ber of  Junior  Miss  (Sat.,  11:30  A.M. 
EDT  on  CBS).  She's  older  sister  Lois. 


:p>25:;v,"r=,'3'/<isss^K:s?T; . 


FLORENCE  FREEMAN —who  plays 
the  title  role  in  CBS's  Wendy  Warren,  is 
one  woman  in  a  million — she  does  not 
mind  telling  her  age.  Florence  was  born 
on  July  29,  1911  in  New  York  City 
and  spent  her  childhood  in  Albany 
where  she  later  studied  to  become  a 
teacher.  After  a  few  months  of  teaching 
she  decided  to  become  an  actress 
and  promptly  got  herself  a  radio  job. 
She's  been  in  radio  ever  since. 


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Arthur  Godfrey 

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ington 
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Boston  Symphony 

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Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
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Tick? 


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the  Air 
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TONI  DARNAY— who  is  featured  in 
Theatre  of  Today  (12  Noon  EDT,  Sat., 
CBS),  was  born  in  Chicago  of  French 
and  English  parents,  attended  night 
classes  at  Northwestern  U,  majoring  in 
dramatics;  and  during  summers  she 
played  in  stock.  She  got  her  first  radio 
job,  a  leading  role  in  a  daytime  serial, 
by   simply   applying   for   an   audition. 


^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^1 

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azine of  the  Air 
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11:00 
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11:30 

11:45 

We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 
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Passing  Parade 
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Kirkwoods 
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« 

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11:00 
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Passing  Parade 
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Mailbag 
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Kirkwoods 
Ted  Malone 

Galen  Drake 

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Rosemary 

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i2ior" 

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Welcome  Traveler 

Wendy  Warren 
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1:00 
1:15 
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Quartet 
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Nancy  Craig 
Dorothy  Dix 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 
The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 

Today's  Children 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  For  A  Day 
Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
What  Makes  You 
Tick? 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Show 
Dixie  Barn  Dance 

Gang 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
House  Party 

David  Harum 
Hillton  House 
Robert  Q.  Lewis 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Misc.  Programs 
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Misc.  Programs 
Two  Ton  Baker 

Kay  Kyser 

Ethel  and  Albert 
Eleanor  and  Anna 
Roosevelt 

Hint  Hunt 

Winner  Take  All 
Beat  the  Clock 

5:00 
6:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Lite 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Straight  Arrow 

Capt.  Midnight 
Tom  Mix 

The  Green  Hornet 
Sky  King 

Galen  Drake 

The  Chicagoans 
Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

John  MacVane 
Sill  Stern 

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Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 

"You  and " 

Herb  Shriner  Time 
Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
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H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Dinner  Date 

News 

Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Counter  Spy 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 

8:15 
8:30 
8:55 

This  Is  Your  Life 
Ralph  Edwards 

Alan  Young  Show 

George  O'Hanlan 
Show 

Official  Detective 
Hy  Gardner 

Art  Mooney's  Talent 
Tour 

America's  Town 
Meeting  of  the  Air 

Mystery  Theatre 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  North 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 
9:55 

Bob  Hope  Show 

Fibber  McGee 
Molly 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Air  Force  Hour 

Bill  Henry 

Erwin  D.  Canham 

We,  The  People 
Strike  It  Rich 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Big  Town 
People  Are  Funny 

Korn's-A-Krackin' 
Dance  Orchestra 

If  s  In  the  Family 

Hit  The  Jackpot 
Mr.  Ace  and  Jane 

12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 

Kate  Smith  Sings 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

News 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

Luncheon  With  Lopez 

Luncheon  at  Sardi's 

Nancy  Craig 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Happy  Gang 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Hollywood  Theater 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Jack  Kilty 

Dorothy  Dix 

The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 

Double  or  Nothing 

Queen  For  A  Day 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Today's  Children 

Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

What  Makes  You 
Tick? 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

David  Harum 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

Show 

Hilltop  House 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Ozark  Valley  Folks 

House  Party 

Robert  Q.  Lewis 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Misc.  Programs 

Kay  Kyser 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

The  Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Ethel  and  Albert 

Winner  Take  All 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Two  Ton  Baker 

Eleanor  and  Anna 
Roosevelt 

Beat  the  Clock 

5:00 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Superman 

Challenge  of  the 

Galen  Drake 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

Yukon 

5:30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Capt.  Midnight 

Jack  Armstrong 

The  Chicagoans 

5:45    Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

John  MacVane 
Bill  Stern 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 

"You  and " 

Herb  Shriner  Time 
Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
The  Smoothies 
H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Dinner  Date 

News 

Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Lone  Ranger 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Blondie 

Great  Gildersleeve 

Can  You  Top  This? 
High  Adventure 

Original  Amateur 
Hour,  Ted  Mack, 
M.C. 

Mr.  Chameleon 
Dr.  Christian 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:55 

Duffy's  Tavern 

Mr.  District  Attorney 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Family  Theater 
Bill  Henry 

Milton  Berle  Show 
Groucho  Marx  Show 

County  Fair 

Harvest  of  Stars 
with  James  Melton 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

The  Big  Story 
Curtain  Time 

Comedy  Play- 
house 
Dance  Orchestra 

Bing  Crosby 

Beat  The  Clock 
Capitol  Cloak  Room 

ROBERT  SLOANE  —is    a    man     of 

many  talents — he  has  written,  directed, 
and  starred  in  countless  plays,  one  of 
which  was  made  into  a  motion  picture. 
Now  he  limits  himself  primarily  to 
radio  where  he  is  the  narrator  in  The 
Big  Story  (Wed.,  10  P.M.  EDT,  NBC) . 
Robert  is  married,  has  two  children 
and  the  family  lives  in  a  newly-bought 
home  in  Port  Washington,  New  York. 


H 

■ 

71 


A.M. 

NBu 

MBs 

Aqu 

UBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

Local  Programs 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 
Clevelandaires 

Editor's  Diary 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Bob  Poole  Show 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
This  is  New  York 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
The  Brighter  Day 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Dorothy  Kilgallen 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15* 

11:30 

11:45 

We  Love  and  Learn 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

Gabriel  Heatter's 

Mailbag 
Lanny  Ross 

At  Home  With  the 

Kirkwoods 
Ted  Malone 

Galen  Drake 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

CHARLES  RUSSELL— forsook  a  lu- 
crative job  in  hometown  Tarrytown, 
N.  Y.,  for  the  stage.  After  starving 
several  years  in  Little  Theater  roles, 
Charles  wangled  a  screen  test  and  sub- 
sequently made  several  pictures.  He 
recently  made  his  radio  debut  in 
the  new  mystery  series  Yours  Truly, 
Johnny  Dollar  (10:30  P.M.  EDT,  Fri., 
CBS).  Actress  Nancy  Guild  is  his  wife. 


AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 

Kate  Smith  Sings 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

News 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

Luncheon  With  Lopez 

Luncheon  at  Sardi's 

Nancy  Craig 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Happy  Gang 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Hollywood  Theater 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Jack  Kilty 

Dorothy  Dix 

The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 

Double  or  Nothing 

Queen  For  A  Day 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Today's  Children 

Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

What  Makes  You 
Tick? 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

David  Harum 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

Show 

Hilltop  House 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Dixie  Barn  Dance 

House  Parly 

Robert  Q.  Lewis 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

Gang 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Misc.  Programs 

Kay  Kyser 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Misc.  Programs 

Ethel  and  Albert 

Winner  Take  All 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Two  Ton  Baker 

Eleanor  and  Anna 
Roosevelt 

Beat  the  Clock 

5:00 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Straight  Arrow 

The  Green  Hornet 

Galen  Drake 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

5:30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Capt.  Midnight 

Sky  King 

The  Chicagoans 

5:45 

Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

Bill  Stern 
Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 

"You  and " 

Herb  Shriner  Time 
Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
Art  Van  Damme 
Quintet 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 
Dinner  Date 
News 
Inside  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Counter  Spy 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Aldrich  Family 
Burns  and  Allen 

Western  Hit  Revue 

Abbott  and  Costello 
Theatre  U.S.A. 

The  F.B.I.  In  Peace 

and  War 
Mr.  Keen 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Al  Jolson  Show 
Dorothy  Lamour 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Mysterious  Traveler 
Bill  Henry 

Go  For  the  House 
Jo  Stafford  Show 

Suspense 

Crime  Photographer 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Screen  Guild  Theatre 
Fred  Waring  Show 

Dance  Orch. 

Personal  Autograph 

Hallmark  Playhouse 
First  Nighter 

A.M. 

NBC 

iVlBS 

ABC 

CBS               ' 

8:30 

Do  You  Remember 

8:45 

Local  Programs 

9:00 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 

Editor's  Diary 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 

9:15 

Tell  Your  Neighbor 

This  is  New  York 

9:30 

Clevelandaires 

Bob  Poole  Show 

9:45 

10:00 

Fred  Waring 

Cecil  Brown 

My  True  Story 

Music  For  You 

10:15 

Faith  in  Our  Time 

10:30 

Road  of  Life 

Say  It  With  Music 

Betty  Crocker  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 

Arthur  Godfrey 

10:45 

The  Brighter  Day 

Jane  Jordan 

11:00 

Passing  Parade 

11:15 

We  Love  and  Learn 

Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

At  Home  With  the 
Kirkwoods 

11:30 

Jack  Berch 

Gabriel  Heatter's 
Mailbag 

Ted  Malone 

Grand  Slam 

11:45 

Lora  Lawton 

Lanny  Ross 

Galen  Drake 

Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Echoes  From  the 

Tropics 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Kate  Smith  Sings' 

News 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

U.  S.  Marine  Band 

Robert  McCormick 
Jack  Kilty 

Luncheon  at  Sardi's 
Happy  Gang 
Hollywood  Theater 

Nancy  Craig 
Dorothy  Dix 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 

Today's  Children 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  For  A  Day 
Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
What  Makes  You 
Tick? 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Show 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
House  Party 

David  Harum 
Hilltop  House 
Robert  Q.  Lewis 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Misc.  Programs 
Johnson  Family 
Misc.  Programs 
Two  Ton  Baker 

Kay  Kyser 

Ethel  and  Albert 
Eleanor  and  Anna 
Roosevelt 

Hint  Hunt 

Winner  Take  All 
Beat  the  Clock 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Lite 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Superman 

Capt.  Midnight 
Tom  Mix 

Challenge  of  the 

Yukon 
Jack  Armstrong 

Galen  Drake 

The  Chicagoans 
Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


R 
M 

72 


FLORENCE  WILLIAMS— a  native  of 
St.  Louis,  Mo.,  was  a  successful  dress 
designer  before  turning  actress;  she 
still  makes  all  her  own  clothes.  Flor- 
ence made  her  radio  debut  as  Barbara 
Ware  in  Roses  and  Drums.  Since  then 
she  has  appeared  regularly  on  the 
stage  and  radio  at  the  same  time.  She 
plays  the  part  of  Sally  in  Front  Page 
Farrell   (M-F.,  5:45  P.M.  EDT,  NBC). 


8:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

News 
Bill  Stern 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 

"You  and " 

Herb  Shriner  Time 
Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 

H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Dinner  Date 

News 

Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Lone  Ranger 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Cities  Service  Band 

Of  America 
Jimmy  Durante 

Show 

Great  Scenes  From 

Great  Plays 
Yours  For  A  Song 

The  Fat  Man 
This  Is  Your  FBI 

Jack  Carson  Show 
My  Favorite  Husband 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Eddie  Cantor  Show 
Red  Skelton  Show 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Enchanted  Hour 

Break  the  Bank 
The  Sheriff 

Ford  Theatre 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Lite  of  Riley 
Sports 

Meet  the  Press 
Dance  Orch. 

Boxing  Bouts 

Philip  Morris  Play- 
house 
Yours  Truly 

S'K 


<-  j.y 


A.IVI. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Mind  Your  Manners 
Coffee  in  Washington 

Paul  Nellson,  News 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Shoppers  Special 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

Garden  Gate 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 
10:45 

Archie  Andrews 
Mary  Lee  Taylor 

Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Jerry  and  Skye 
Albert  Warner 

Concert  of  Amer- 
can  Jazz 

Saturday  Strings 

The  Garden  Gate 
Escape 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

Meet  the  Meeks 
Smilln'  Ed  McConnell 

Coast  Guard  on 

Parade 
Magic  Rhythm 

Abbott  and  Costello 
What's  My  Name? 

Let's  Pretend 
Junior  Miss 

AFTERNOON  PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Arthur  Barriault 

Smoky  Mt.  Hayride 

Girls'  Corps 

Theatre  of  Today 

12:15 

Public  Affair 

12:30 

Luncheon  With  Lopez 

News 

American  Farmer 

Grand  Central 

12:45 

U.  S.  Navy  Hour 

Station 

1:00 

Naf  1  Farm  Home 

Luncheon  At  Sardi's 

Maggi  McNeills, 

County  Fair 

1:15 

Herb  Sheldon 

1:30 

R.F.D.  America 

Symphonies  For 

American  Farmer 

Give  and  Take 

1:45 

Youth 

2:00 

Frank  Merriwell's 

Handyman 

2:15 

Adventures 

2:30 

Edward  Tomlinson 

Family  Theater 

2:45 

.Report  From  Europe 

3:00 

Pioneers  of  Music 

Proudly  We  Hail 

3:15 

3:30 

The  Clock 

Local  Programs 

3:45 

4:00 

Roy  McKinney 

Hobby  Lobby 

4:15 

Echoes  From  the 
Tropics 

4:30 

Charlie  Slocum 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

4:45 

Radio  Reporter 

First  Church  of 
Christ  Science 

5:00 

The  Lassie  Show 

Russ  Hodges  Quiz 

Chuck  Foster's 

5:15 

Wormwood  Forest 

True  or  False 

Dance  Music 

Make  Way  For 
Youth 

5:30 

Red  Barber's  Club- 
house 

5:45 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 


7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 


8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 


I  9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 


10:00 
10:15 
10:30 


Peter  Roberts 
Religion  In  the  News 
NBC  Symphony 


Vic  Damone,  Kay 
Armen 


Hollywood  Star 
Theatre 

Truth  or  Conse- 
quences 


Your  Hit  Parade 
Judy  Canova  Show 


Day  in  the  Life  of 

Dennis  Day 
Grand  Ole  Opry 


Music 


Bands  For  Bonds 


Guess  Who? 

Robert  Hurliegh 
News 


Twenty  Questions 
Take  a  Number 


Life  Begins  at  80 
Guy  Lombardo 


Theatre  of  the  Air 


Honey  dreamers 
Bible  Message 


Jack  Beall 


Bert  Andrews 


Starring  Kay  Starr 
Famous  Jury  Trials 


Little  Herman 

Drama 
Pat  Novak  For  Hire 


Earl  Godwin 
Irving  Fields 
hayloft  Hoedown 


News  From  Wash- 
ington 

Memo  From  Lake 
Success 

Saturday  Sports 
Review 

Larry  Lesueur 


Spike  Jones 

Camel  Caravan  with 
Vaughn  Monroe 


Gene  Autry  Show 

Adventures  of  Philip 
Marlowe 


Gang  Busters 
Tales  of  Fatima 


Sing  It  Again 

National  Guard  Mili- 
tary Ball 


FRAN  CARLON— who  was  born  in 
Indianapolis,  Ind.,  grew  up  in  Chicago 
and  later  went  to  Hollywood  where  she 
appeared  in  two  insignificant  pictures. 
She  began  her  radio  career  twelve  years 
ago  reading  commercials;  this  led  to 
parts  in  daytime  serials.  Now  she  plays 
the  role  of  Lorelei  Kilborne  in  NBC's 
Big  Town,  Tuesdays  at  10  P.M.  EDT. 
She  is  married  to  actor  Casey  Allen. 


Notes  to  Keep  Your  Radio  Mirror  Quiz  Catalogue 
Up  to  Date 

CBS's  Hit  The  Jackpot,  heard  every  Tuesday  at  10  P.M., 
EDT,  is  the  Cinderella  show  of  the  quizzes.  It  is  no 
secret  along  radio  row  that  when  the  show  was  launched 
as  a  sustainer,  CBS  network  executives  were  disappointed 
with  the  first  results,  never  thought  they  had  a  commercial 
winner  in  the  pyramid-type  quizzer.  The  real  lucky  break 
came  when  producers  Mark  Goodson  and  Bill  Todman  put 
into  the  jackpot  a  DeSoto  auto.  The  DeSoto  executives 
tuned  into  the  show  just  to  hear  the  "free"  mention  of  their 
product  and  got  so  excited  at  the  studio  audience's  reaction 
when  the  car  was  mentioned  that  they  quickly  decided  to 
sponsor  the  whole  show. 

DeSoto  was  right.  Hit  The  Jackpot  has  become  one  of 
radio's  most  successful  quizzers. 

It  is  also  one  of  the  few  quiz  shows  that  gives  folks  unable 
to  come  to  New  York  to  participate  a  chance  at  winning 
the  huge  prizes.  Studio  contestants  are  chosen  indiscrim- 
inately from  the  audience.  About  eighteen  get  up  on  the 
stage.  About  a  half  dozen  players  are  called  on  the  phone. 
They  are  selected  from  a  huge  weekly  collection  of  post 
cards  and  letters,  and  allocated  among  the  forty-eight 
states. 

On  stage  is  a  huge  red  ladder  score  board.  On  this  ladder 
score  board  are  four  rungs,  representing  the  four  questions 
which  must  be  answered  correctly  in  order  for  a  contestant 
to  reach  the  jackpot.  Each  rung  has  a  light  that  flickers 
when  a  question  is  answered  correctly. 

Center  stage  stands  M.C.  Bill  Cullen,  a  real  quiz  veteran. 
On  one  side  of  him-  stands  the  "bluffer"  contestant,  on  the 
other,  the  "challenger"  contestant.  Cullen  throws  a  ques- 
tion at  the  bluffer.  He  or  she  answers  correctly  .  or 
bluffs.  Then  Cullen  turns  to  the  challenger  whose  privi- 
lege it  is  to  accept  or  challenge  the  opponent's  answer. 

When  a  studio  player  succeeds  in  giving  the  four  correct 
answers  and  then  misses  the  jackpot,  a  phone  call  is  put 
through  to  some  lucky  listener. 

The  jackpot  question  is  usually  a  toughie.  It's  called  a 
secret  sentence,  and  goes  along  with  plenty  of  sound  effects 
which  are  supposed  to  help  a  contestant  decipher  the 
teaser  question. 

Biggest  jackpot  on  Hit  The  Jackpot  totalled  $32,600  worth 
of  merchandise. 

Toughest  job  the  producers  have  is  figuring  out  the 
various  "Secret  Sentences."  They  can't  be  too  easy  nor  can 
they  be  too  difficult. 

Bill  Cullen,  who  has  emceed  a  host  of  quiz  shows,  says 
Hit  The  Jackpot  is  the  hardest  because  of  its  mounting 
excitement,  its  complicated  format.  After  each  Tuesday 
broadcast  Bill  is  so  weary  he  usually  drops  off  at  an  all- 
night  Turkish  Bath  and  turns  his  tired  body  over  to  a 
competent  and  understanding  masseur. 

You  Should  Know  That: 

Bill  Cullen,  who  helped  make  Winner  Take  All  a  winner, 
found  he  couldn't  do  it  as  a  sponsored  show  because  of  pro- 
duct conflict,  but  with  his  Beat  The  Clock  now  a  daily  CBS 
feature,  he  doesn't  feel  too  badly  .  .  .  Garry  Moore,  of  NBC's 
Take  It  Or  Leave  It  just  returned  from  a  tour  of  Germany, 
entertaining  the  troops.  An  R.A.F.  lieutenant  copped  the 
$6,190  jackpot  .  .  .  Incidentally,  don't  be  surprised  if  Moore 
does  a  daily  CBS  variety  show  in  the  daytime,  the  same 
kind  of  show  that  skyrocketed  the  crew-haircut  comic  to 
national  fame  when  he  did  it  in  Chicago  .  .  .  On  Mutual's 
Take  A  Number  quiz,  the  FBI  contacted  M.C.  Red  Benson 
about  15  minutes  after  a  recent  broadcast.  It  seems  the  last 
contestant  was  a  bigamist  and  one  of  his  three  "wives" 
heard  the  show  in  California,  recognized  his  voice  and  con- 
tacted the  authorities  .  .  .  Vera  Vague  has  just  auditioned 
a  new  quiz  show  grooved  for  daily  daytime  operation.  It's 
called  Merry-Go-Round  and  scouts  report  it  "hot  for 
sale"  .  .  .  Sing  It  Again  biggest  jackpot  ($30,500)  went  to  a 
57-year-old  ex-GI  who  identified  the  mystery  voice  as  be- 
longing to  former  presidential  nominee  Alf  Landon.  Schilc- 
ter  was  called  in  a  Kansas  Veterans  Hospital  .  .  .  John  Reed 
King  had  a  few  tough  minutes  on  Give  and  Take  from 
Dallas  recently  when  a  woman  contestant  got  too  frisky  for 
the  censors  .  .  .  Although  Todd  Russell  is  a  big  hit  with 
Strike  It  Rich,  his  main  ambition  is  to  be  «a  songwriter. 


73 


One  of  the  World's  Good  People 


To  look  at  him,  he  is  almost  the  same, 
two-decades-ago  Lanny.  Outside  of  the 
slight  graying  around  the  temples,  he 
stands  tall  and  slender,  with  the  lithe 
athletic  bearing  of  the  years  when  he 
was  a  U.S.  track  champion.  But  listen- 
ing to  him,  you  feel  that  there  is  a  dif- 
ference in  his  philosophy  and  attitudes. 
His  gracious  wife,  Olive,  explains  the 
change,  and  how  tremendously  it  has 
affected  their  lives. 

"Since  the  war,  Lanny  has  become 
engrossed  in  helping  children,"  she  will 
tell  you.  "Most  of  his  day  is  spent  in 
thinking  and  dealing  with  their  prob- 
lems." 

Among  youngsters,  he  probably  has 
more  real  friends — as  distinguished 
from  babbling  bobbysoxers — than  any 
other  radio  entertainer  in  the  country. 
In  his  quiet  way,  Lanny  has  been  giv- 
ing talented  children  a  chance  to  be 
heard  on  his  show,  organizing  clubs  for 
them  and  inventing  new  modes  of  en- 
tertainment. 

"But  Lanny  will  never  tell  you  about 
it,"  Olive  says,  laughing.  "He's  almost 
as  shy  today  as  when  I  first  met  him." 

That  meeting  happened  seventeen 
years  ago.  Olive  was  working  for  a 
public  relations  office  in  New  York.  She 
was  assigned  to  get  Lanny  a  good  press. 

"I  don't  think  you  should  get  my 
name  in  the  papers  too  often,"  Lanny 
advised  at  their  first  meeting. 

OLIVE  thought  the  handsome  young 
star  was  pulling  her  leg,  for  a  celeb- 
rity who  doesn't  like  the  limelight  is  a 
rare  bird  indeed.  But  as  she  suggested 
several  publicity  stunts,  he  turned  his 
thumbs  down  on  each.  Somehow,  they 
began  to  talk  about  children  and  at 
last  Lanny  began  to  show  interest. 

Then  an  unusual  idea  flashed  into 
Olive's  head.  Because  newspapers 
claimed  that  the  average  radio  listener 
had  no  more  intelligence  than  a  twelve- 
year-old,  Olive  arranged  to  have  Lanny 
test  the  IQ  of  a  group  of  youngsters 
with  reporters  present.  The  children's 
intelligence  amazed  the  writers.  One 
newspaper  carried  the  story  with  bold 
headlines.  The  great  Ring  Lardner 
wrote  an  entire  magazine  article  on 
Lanny's  experiment. 

Olive  felt  proud  of  her  success  until 
she  saw  Lanny  with  a  long  face. 

"Now  what  did  I  do  wrong?"  she 
asked. 

"Well,"  he  hemmed,  "do  you  think 
all  this  publicity  is  good  for  me?" 

Then  Olive  realized  that  Lanny  was 
painfully  shy.  Her  job  required  win- 
ning his  confidence.  Gradually  they 
became  close  friends — so  close  that  four 
years  later  Lanny  proposed. 

In  the  early  years  of  their  marriage, 
Lanny's  stature  grew  as  he  was  heard 
on  the  Coffee  Hour,  Showboat,  Mardi 
Gras,  Hit  Parade  and  the  Caravan.  But 
their  private  life  was  marked  by  a  sin- 
gle,  heartbreaking   tragedy. 

Lanny's  desire  for  a  real  family  and 
successful  marriage  always  oversha- 
dowed his  interest  in  a  career.  So  when 
Olive  became  an  expectant  mother, 
Lanny's  elation  exceeded  that  of  many 
men.  With  such  anticipation,  neither 
he  nor  Olive  was  prepared  for  anything 
but  happiness.  The  great  day  when 
Olive  went  to  the  hospital  ended  with  a 
shock.  Their  first  and  only  child  was 
R    still-born. 

m        The  anguish  they  felt  is  still  a  thing 
best  not  brought  up.    Because  Lanny 
talks  so  little  about  himself,  few  people 
74 


(Continued  jrom  page  57) 

know  of  the  great  loss  and  the  sense  of 
frustration  that  must  have  filled  him. 
In  a  large  way  it  explains  his  present 
devotion  to  children's  activities. 

"Queer  as  this  may  sound  at  first," 
Olive  says,  "his  army  experience 
showed  him  another  way  he  could  work 
with   youngsters." 

Lanny  joined  the  army  in  1943,  al- 
though he  was  thirty-seven  and  didn't 
have  to  give  up  the  substantial  position 
he'd  established  in  show  business.  He 
could  merely  have  continued  to  work 
with  the  USO  and  gone  overseas  for 
brief  periods  to  entertain. 

"Maybe  I  just  wanted  to  be  proud  of 
myself,"  Lanny  will  tell  you  disparag- 
ingly. 

But  as  one  columnist  put  it,  "While 
other  stars  led  brass  bands  into  a  thea- 
ter of  operations  for  one  or  two  months, 
Lanny  Ross,  without  fanfare,  joined  the 
army  and,  without  squawks,  served  in 
the  Pacific  for  two  and  a  half  years." 

And  he  didn't  live  like  a  celebrity  or 
try  to  put  on  a  one-man  show.  In  the 
Pacific,  where  the  spirits  of  men  were 
near  lifeless  from  the  monotony  of  their 
existence,  Lanny  learned  that  to 
sing  for  the  GIs  only  gave  them  tempo- 
rary relief.  So  he  began  to  build  soldier 
morale  by  inducing  them  to  entertain 
each  other. 

From  Gilli  Gilli  to  Japan,  Lanny  drew 
on  enlisted  men  for  talent.  He  had  to 
take  mechanics,  clerks  and  foot  soldiers 
and  reawaken  their  civilian  talent  for 
singing,  acting  or  playing  a  musical  in- 
strument. 

"It  was  surprising  the  self-respect  a 
tired  soldier  felt  when  he  saw  a  buddy 
perform,"  Lanny  recalls  with  a  warm 
smile.  "It  reminded  the  men  of  the 
dignity  they  had  once  felt  as  civilians. 
They  began  to  see  each  other  in  a  new 
light — as  individuals  rather  than  just 
another  dogface." 

Unfortunately,  Lanny's  work  left  him 
little  time  to  sing.  So  when  the  war 
was  over,  he  had  to  make  a  fresh  start 
as  a  civilian  like  so  many  other  service- 
men. Although  he  was  hardly  an  un- 
known, Lanny  had  to  retrain  and  culti- 
vate his  voice  and  rebuild  his  reputa- 
tion. 

TOGETHER,  Lanny  and  Olive  traveled 
from  Portland,  Oregon  to  Portland, 
Maine  and  points  south.  Lanny  sang  in 
nightclubs,  operettas  and  concerts  until 
once  again  he  had  secured  his  position 
as  a  top  flight  singer. 

Today  Lanny  considers  himself  a  citi- 
zen of  both  the  city  and  country.  From 
Manhattan  he  broadcasts  five  mornings 
a  week  over  Mutual  and  one  night  on 
his  WNBT  television  show.  But  wheth- 
er in  work  or  hobbies,  his  interest  in 
children  is  always  evident. 

There's  nothing  unusual  in  tuning  to 
one  of  his  broadcasts  and  finding  him 
sharing  the  mike  with  a  Boy  Scout 
Choral  group  or  a  child  soprano. 

In  his  spare  time,  Lanny  has  been 
writing  juvenile  short  stories.  And  he 
has  created  a  new  kind  of  musical  as  a 
result  of  his  feelings  about  opera.  For 
many  years  he  has  believed  opera's 
great  weaknesses  were  the  foreign 
language  and  melodrama.  Now  he's  in- 
teresting children,  the  most  difficult 
audience  of  all,  in  opera.  This  is  the 
way  it  started. 

Each  Christmas,  Lanny  has  enter- 
tained at  a  party  for  boys  and  girls, 
sponsored  by  the  Dutch  Treat  Club.  For 
many   years   he   followed   a   magician. 


"After  seeing  women  disappear  into 
thin  air  and  rabbits  pulled  out  of  a  hat," 
Lanny  observed,  "kids  found  a  singer 
rather  tame — and  could  you  blame 
them?" 

That  started  him  probing  and  he  hit 
on  the  idea  for  a  "Four  Minute  Opera." 
Lanny  wrote  the  librettos  for  such  titles 
as  "Polly  the  Parrot"  and  "Freddy  the 
Rabbit."  The  pocket-sized  operas  have 
clever  stories  and  colorful  characteriza- 
tion. Polly,  the  parrot,  is  owned  by  a 
poor  poet,  so  Polly  decides  to  write  the 
poetry  and  sends  the  poet  out  to  work. 
Freddy,  the  rabbit,  gets  a  bit  weary  of 
the  magician  making  him  disappear  so 
Freddy  sends  the  magician  into  the  land 
of  never-never.  Another  libretto  about 
the  sea  has  the  most  unusual  choral 
group  in  the  history  of  opera.  It  is 
made  up  of  octopi. 

The  premiere  performances  of  Lan- 
ny's operas  were  at  the  Metropolitan 
Opera  House  recently  and  the  enthusi- 
asm— from  adults  and  children — was 
overwhelming. 

Neither  Lanny's  musical  projects  nor 
intereat  in  children  stop  when  the 
Rosses  move  from  their  Manhattan 
apartment  every  weekend  to  the  450- 
acre  farm  near  Bangall,  N.  Y. 

TEN  YEARS  ago  they  bought  the  land, 
named  it  "Melody  Farm,"  and  stocked 
cows  which  they  knew  little  about.  To- 
day Lanny  speaks  authoritatively  on 
dairy  herd  improvement  and  milk  pro- 
duction. Their  eighty-five  black  and 
white  Holsteins  pipe  300,000  pounds  of 
milk  each  year  into  the  city. 

Since  Melody  Farm  is  near  the  New 
York  Herald  Tribune's  Fresh  Air  Camp 
for  children,  Lanny  invites  the  boys  and 
girls  over  regularly  for  a  "Catfish  Der- 
by." He  takes  them  to  his  catfish  pond 
and  gives  them  a  line  and  bait.  For  the 
first  time  many  of  them  experience  the 
thrill  of  a  catch. 

"It's  a  good  sport  for  youngsters," 
Lanny  believes.  "Fishing  teaches  pa- 
tience, friendliness  and  a  greater  un- 
derstanding of  nature." 

He  thinks  it's  rarely  that  you  find  a 
criminal  or  dishonest  man  who  loves  to 
fish.  He  feels  there  is  no  better  en- 
vironment than  the  outdoors  for  raising 
children  properly. 

"If  we  give  youngsters  the  kind  of 
help  they  need,"  he  tells  you,  "we  might 
have  the  kind  of  society  we  want — but 
never  quite  achieve." 

Wherever  Lanny  travels,  he  tries  to 
start  fishing  clubs  for  children.  If  any 
Radio  Mirror  readers  wish  to  start  such 
an  organization  in  their  community, 
Lanny  would  be  most  happy  to  corre- 
spond with  them  about  the  idea,  and 
how  to  go  about  it. 

He  usually  tops  off  the  "Catfish  Der- 
by" on  his  farm  with  entertainment 
and  refreshments.  The  Ross  touch  is 
evident  through  the  day,  from  the 
"Four  Minute  Opera"  to  the  ice  cream. 

"It  happens  every  summer,"  Olive 
explains.  "The  store  wants  to  deliver 
ice  cream  bars  but  Lanny  insists  that 
the  kids  have  cones." 

It  takes  an  understanding  man  to 
know  children  would  rather  lick  a 
double-header  ice  cream  cone.  Lanny 
Ross  is  that  man.  He's  considerate  and 
kind  but  so  modest  he  never  toots  his 
own  horn.  It's  little  wonder  that  his 
fans  are  so  faithful.  Somehow,  with- 
out knowing  him  personally,  from  his 
songs  alone,  they  realize  the  goodness 
in  his  heart. 


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(JV 


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-^ 


A  marvel,  too!  .  .  .  the  velvet  beauty 
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deeper,  richer  softening!  Penaten, 
in  Woodbury  De  Luxe  Dry  Skin  Cream, 
helps  rich,  smoothing  emollients 


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Lanolin's  softening  benefits  go  deeper, 
softening  tiny  lines  .  .  .  smoothing 
flaky  roughness  to  fresher, 
younger-looking  beauty. 


75 


friend,  Don  Cornwall.  She  even  heard 
them  arguing  one  evening  on  the  porch, 
Don  insisting,  Brad  putting  him  off. 
Then  Don  left,  and  Brad  came  into  the 
living  room,  stood  fidgeting  beside  her. 

"Is  Dad  working  late  at  the  store  to- 
night?" he  asked  finally. 

"Until  about  ten,  I  imagine,"  she  an- 
swered. "Why?  Do  you  want  him  for 
something  special?" 

"No.  Only — do  you  know  if  he's 
heard  from  my  mother,  yet?" 

"We  can  hardly  expect  to,"  said  Ter- 
ry, too  quickly.  "It's  been  just  a  few 
days  since  we  wrote.  She  may  be  off  on 
a  cruise,  you  know,  or  she  may  have 
moved — " 

"You  mean,"  said  Brad  hollowly,  "she 
may  not  get  the  letter  at  all." 

"She  gets  other  mail,  surely,"  Terry 
pointed  out.  "She  must  hear  from  her 
lawyers,  and  from  the  estate.  It's  only  a 
question  of  time,  probably  at  least  a 
couple  of  weeks." 

BRAD    sighed    with    relief.      "Then    I 
guess  it's  all  right  for  me  to  go." 

Terry  blinked,  bewildered.  "Go?  Go 
where?" 

"Oh — Don  Cornwall's  trying  to  set  up 
a  double  date  for  me  with  a  new  girl 
tomorrow  night.  I  sort  of  didn't  know 
whether   I   ought   to   go   or   not." 

"What  an  idea!"  Terry  laughed.  "Of 
course  you  ought  to  go.  Brad — "  She 
stopped,  looked  closely  at  him.  "Brad, 
are  you  afraid?" 

"I  guess  I  am,  a  little,"  he  admitted. 

"There's  no  reason  to  be,"  she  said 
soothingly.  "Your  mother  and  your 
father  both  love  you.  Neither  of  themi 
would  do  anything  to  hurt  you." 

"I  know,"  said  Brad.  "But — Mother 
might  think  I  was — well,  letting  her 
down,  that  I  didn't  love  her  any  more. 
She  might  be  hurt — " 

How  well  I  know,  Terry  thought.  And 
how  well  she'd  make  you  know  it.  But 
she  said  evenly,  "Nothing  terrible  or 
unpleasant  is  going  to  happen  in  any 
case,  Brad.  It  will  be  up  to  the  Judge  to 
decide — " 

It  was  then  that  the  telephone  rang. 
Brad  went  to  answer,  explaining  over 
his  shoulder  that  Don  was  probably 
calling  about  the  double  date.  Then 
Terry  heard  the  change  in  his  voice  as 
he  answered,  and  she  stiffened. 

"Come  over — now?"  he  said.  "I — ex- 
cuse me  just  a  minute.  Mother — " 

Marion.  The  name  seemed  to  explode 
inside  her.  Terry  half-rose,  sank  back 
again  as  Brad  came  into  the  room. 

"It's  Mother,"  he  said  in  a  taut  voice. 
"She's  here  in  Dickston,  at  the  Dickston 
Arms  Hotel.  She  wants  me  to  come  and 
see  her  right  away.  Aunt  Terry,  what 
should  I  do?" 

Somehow,  she  spoke  calmly,  some- 
how made  the  right  answer.  "Brad, 
dear,  this  is  one  time  I  can't  advise  you. 
Marion's  your  mother,  and — and  al- 
though I  wish  I  could  help  you,  you'll 
have  to  decide  for  yourself." 

He  went,  of  course,  with  a  face  so 

white,   so   strained,   that   Terry's  heart 

ached  for  him.    She  herself  called  Stan 

after  Brad  had  left,  but  before  that,  she 

sat  for  a  long  while  in  her  chair,  trying 

to  fight  down  her  fear.    Marion  here,  in 

Dickston!   She  must  have  taken  a  plane 

as  soon  as  she'd  received  the  letter.  Oh, 

Marion  had  certainly  not  flown  all  those 

R    miles  to  say  goodbye  to  Brad! 

ly,        Marion   was    exquisite.     She   wore   a 

misty    pink    chiffon    housecoat    as    she 

waited  for  her  son,  and  a  cloud  of  deli- 

76 


Where  the  Heart  Is — 

(Continued  jrom  page  69) 

cate  perfume,  and  a  look  in  which  help- 
lessness and  pain  and  longing  and  ten- 
der courage  were  nicely  mingled.  She 
carried  a  filmy  white  handkerchief — 
which  could  be  effectively  twisted  in 
agitation — and  she  was  busy  laying  out 
several  packages,  in  handsome  gift 
wrappings,  on  a  table  in  her  spacious 
suite  at  the  Dickston  Arms. 

The  doorbell  rang.  She  hurried  to 
the  divan,  sank  down  upon  it,  spread- 
ing her  skirts,  resuming  the  tender, 
brave  expression.  Yes,  this  was  just 
right  for  Brad's  first  sight  of  her  in 
mionths — 

"Ice  water.  Ma'am,"  said  the  bellhop, 
marching  into  the  room.  "You  ordered 
it—" 

"Hours  ago!"  Marion  snapped.  "Well, 
don't  just  stand  there!  Set  it  down,  and 
get  out—" 

"Sorry,  Ma'am,"  said  the  boy.  "We're 
short  today.  Two  boys  sick — " 

"I'm  not  interested  in  the  health  of 
the  staff!"  Her  voice  rose.  "All  I'm  in- 
terested in  is  decent  service!  Just  hurry 
up,  and  get  out!  You're  spoiling  my — " 

"I'm  here.  Mother."  Brad  spoke  from 
the  doorway. 

There  was  no  time  now  to  resume  her 
pose  upon  the  couch.  She  swept  toward 
Brad  while  the  bellboy,  seeking  his 
chance,     slipped     unobtrusively     away. 

"Brad  —  darling,"  Marion's  voice 
trembled.  "Come  in.  Let  me  look  at 
you." 

But  something  was  wrong.  It  wasn't 
that  she'd  been  caught  in  a  temper;  it 
wasn't  just  that  she  had  to  raise  her 
arms  unexpectedly  high — how  he  had 
grown! — in  order  to  encircle  Brad's 
shoulders.  No,  it  was  something  more 
subtle,  something  in  his  eyes. 

"You — you're  growing  up,"  she  said 
uncertainly.  "It's  ridiculous  that  six 
months  should  make  such  a  difference. 
Brad — aren't  you  going  to  kiss  me?" 

"Sure,"  he  said  agreeably.  "If  you 
want  me  to." 

HER  arms  closed  around  him;  she 
clung  to  him  long  after  his  peck  at 
her  cheek  had  come  and  gone.  Tears 
slid  out  from  under  her  closed  lids,  and 
she  dabbed  at  them  daintily  with  the 
filmy  handkerchief. 

"I'm  crying,"  she  said.  "Isn't  that 
silly  of  me,  when  this  is  such  a  happy 
occasion?  We're  really  together  again, 
the  way  we  used  to  be  in  the  big  old 
house  on  the  hill,  just  the  two  of  us. 
Remember,  Brad?" 

"Of  course,"  said  Brad. 

"Remember,"  she  went  on,  "how  I 
would  sit  in  the  big  wing  chair  beside 
the  fire,  and  you'd  sit  on  the  floor  at 
my  feet,  with  your  head  on  my  knee? 
Those  were  lovely  hours,  weren't  they, 
Brad?" 

"Uh-huh,"  said  Brad. 

Irritation  flashed  across  her  mind. 
He  looked  so  sensitive,  so  responsive, 
and  he  was  behaving  as — as  lumpishly 
— as  the  dolt  of  a  bellboy. 

"Lovely,  precious  hours,"  she  went 
on  softly.  "You  would  talk  to  me  about 
your  studies  and  your  dreams,  and  we 
would  make  plans  for  the  future.  Great, 
shining,  wonderful  dreams  for  the  two 
of  us.  Brad,  sit  down  the  same  way 
now,  with  your  head  on  my  knee — " 

She  led  him  to  the  sofa.  He  sat  down, 
shifted  uncomfortably.  "I'm  too  big  for 
that  now.  Mother.  Uh — what  time  did 
you  leave  Havana?" 

She  swallowed  her  annoyance,  and 
decided  not  to  sit  beside  him  after  all. 


Instead,  she  backed  a  few  paces,  aware 
of  how  small  she  looked  against  the 
background  of  the  big  room. 

"Does  it  matter?"  she  asked.  "I'm 
here  now,  with  you — where  I've  longed 
to  be—" 

"Then  why  didn't  you  come  to  see 
me  before  this?"  He  wasn't  accusing; 
the  question  had  escaped  in  spite  of 
himself.  There  was  a  pause.  Marion 
gave  him  a  silent,  stricken  look. 

"I  suppose,"  she  said,  very  low,  "that 
you  think — or  you've  been  told — that 
I  left  you  behind  when  I  went  South  in 
order   not   to   be   bothered   with   you." 

"But — "  He  shook  his  head,  be- 
wildered. "If  you  didn't  want  to  leave 
me  here,  why  did  you?" 

"Oh,  Brad!"  She  laughed  helplessly. 
"I'm  alone,  with  no  one  to  help,  to  ad- 
vise me.  It's  so  easy  to  make  mistakes 
—tragic  mistakes.  I  thought  I  was  giv- 
ing you  the  benefit  of  a  father's  love 
and  guidance.  But .  apparently,  instead 
of  helping  you  to  grow  and  develop 
all  these  months,  Stan  has  done  nothing 
but  try  to  turn  you  against  me — at 
Terry's  instigation,  no  doubt." 

SHE'D  gone  too  far.  Brad  looked 
shocked.  "Oh,  no!"  he  corrected  her 
anxiously.  "That  isn't  so!  Dad  and  Aunt 
Terry  never  say  a  word  against  you — " 

"Say!"  she  repeated.  "They  wouldn't 
be  so  crude,  my  dear.  There  are  other 
ways.  For  instance — why  do  you  sup- 
pose I  stopped  sending  you  presents, 
after  the  television  set,  if  it  wasn't  be- 
cause I  knew  they  would  make  it  seem 
that  I  was  trying  to  buy  your  devo- 
tion?" 

"Gosh,  Mother,  that's  not — " 

She  swept  on,  unheeding.  "And  all 
the  time  I  was  dying  to  send  you  all 
sorts  of  gifts,  and  a  really  big  allowance 
instead  of  that  pittance  I  sent  you  every 
week." 

"You  mailed  me  an  allowance?" 

"Of  course,"  said  Marion,  "in  your 
father's  care.  You  got  it,  didn't  you?" 

"Why,  no.  I — "  He  stopped,  looking 
dazed. 

"Brad!  You  didn't  get  it?  But  you 
must  have,  unless — "  She  bit  her  lip. 

"Unless  it  was  lost  or — or  stolen,"  said 
Brad.  "Gee,  Mother—" 

"Oh,  no,"  she  said  quickly,  "you 
mustn't  think  that,  Brad.  Forget  it.  I 
did  send  it  to  you,  every  week,  but — 
well,  I  think  you'd  just  better  forget 
that  I  mentioned  it.  We'll  settle  it  this 
way:  I'll  give  you  a  check  for  the  total 
amount,  and  we  just  won't  think  of  it 
again.  Only  promise  me  that  if  anyone 
asks  if  I  sent  you  your  weekly  allow- 
ance all  this  time,  you  just  say  yes." 

He  loked  completely  at  sea.  "But 
who'd  ever  ask  me  such  a  question?" 

"The  Judge  might,  or  the  lawyer," 
said  Marion.  "And  you  see,  if  you  were 
to  mention  that  you  hadn't  got  it,  suspi- 
cion might  fall  on  certain  persons,  and 
— oh,  it  would  be  just  too  awful!  And  I 
don't  want  to  cause  any  unpleasantness, 
Brad.  Even  though  people  try  to  take 
everything  away  from  me,  even  my 
own  child — " 

The  handkerchief  went  to  her  eyes. 
Brad  hastened  to  reassure  her.  "No- 
body's trying  to  take  me  away  from 
you.  Mother.  I  thought  it  all  out  for 
myself,  about  staying  here  in  Dickston 
with  Dad  and  Aunt  Terry.  I  mean,  I 
could  still  see  you  and  be  with  you 
whenever  I  wanted.  But  I  like  it  here  in 
Dickston.  I  have  all  my  friends  here, 
and  I  want  to  go  on  living  here.     You 


know  how  it  is.  I  sort  of  fit  in." 
She  knew,  and  a  plan  that  had  been 
forming  in  the  back  of  her  mind  sud- 
denly crystallized.  It  wasn't  entirely  to 
her  liking,  but  it  would  be  worth  it. 
She  didn't  trouble  to  keep  the  venom 
out  of  her  voice  as  she  said,  "I  take  it 
Stan  and  Terry  have  made  life  very 
pleasant  for  you?" 

"It's  been  swell!"  There  was  no  mis- 
taking the  warmth  in  his  tone.  "I've 
had  to  earn  my  own  spending  money, 
and  do  without  some  things  I  wanted, 
but  it's  been  fun.  Dad  and  Aunt  Terry 
have  made  me  feel  like  part  of  a  real 
family,  just  like  other  kids." 

"Oh,  my  darling — "  Hate  rose  in  her, 
choking  her,  setting  her  hands  to 
trembling.  There  was  no  need  to  pre- 
tend emotion;  this  was  genuine,  only 
Brad  couldn't  know  that  it  was  hatred 
for  Terry  instead  of  concern  for  him. 
"What  a  bitter  awakening  there  is  in 
store  for  you!  Have  you  thought  what 
it  will  be  like  after  Terry's  baby  is 
born?  Oh,  yes,  I  know  about  it — I  saw 
Lillian  Anderson  shortly  after  I  ar- 
rived in  town,  and  she  told  me.  And, 
Brad,  when  the  baby  comes,  suddenly 
you'll  be  considered  old  enough  to  take 
care  of  yourself.  They  won't  want  to 
hear  your  problems  or  to  help  you  solve 
them;  they'll  resent  the  little  time  you 
do  take.  And  they'll  feel  guilty  about 
neglecting  you,  and  therefore  treat  you 
all  the  more  sharply." 

"Gosh,  Mother,  I  don't  think—" 
"Believe  me,  darling,  it  will  be  like 
that."  She  was  beside  him  in  a  rush, 
seizing  his  hands,  pleading  with  him. 
"There'll  be  too  great  an  age  difference 
between  you  and  the  baby.  And,  in  the 
last  analysis,  your  father  will  feel, 
whatever  the  Judge  may  decide,  that 
you  are  only  half  his  child.  The  baby 
will  be  all  his." 

SHE'D  struck  home;  she  could  see  it  in 
his  eyes,  and  she  could  have  shouted 
for  joy. 

Terry  didn't  ask  Brad  about  his  inter- 
view with  his  mother  when  he  reached 
home  that  evening.  But  Stan  asked,  be- 
fore he  got  a  look  at  the  boy's  face. 

"You  saw  your  mother.  Brad?"  he 
said.  "What  did  she  have  to  say?" 

"She  cried,"  said  Brad. 

Stan's  lips  tightened,  but  he  spoke 
gently.  "Look,  son — you  haven't  had  a 
chance  to  discuss  this  with  her  before 
tonight.  If,  after  hearing  her  side  of  it, 
you  want  to  change  your  mind,  we  want 
you  to  feel  free  as  air  to  do  it.  Only, 
whatever  decision  you  make,  I  want 
you  to  be  as  sure  as  you  can  be  that  it's 
the  right  one,  the  best   one  for   you." 

Brad's  back  was  toward  them.  He 
seemed  to  be  very  busy  setting  an  arm- 
load of  gaily  wrapped  packages  on  the 
hall  table.  "I  thought  I  had,"  he  said, 
"until  I  saw  Mother.  I  thought  I  was 
right,  and  that  everything  would  go 
on  being  swell  the  way  it's  been  these 
last  months.  But  Mother  said —  She 
said—" 

"Don't  tell  us.  Brad,"  Terry  warned 
him  quickly,  "if  you'd  rather  not." 

"I  guess  I  wouldn't."  The  words  were 
barely  audible.  "If  I  tell  you  what  she 
said,  then  I'll  have  to  tell  her  what 
you  said,  and  then  you'll  both  tell  the 
judge — and  hate  each  other!"  He  turned 
toward  them  suddenly,  his  face  twist- 
ing. "I  didn't  know  it  was  going  to  be 
like  this!"  he  cried.  "Like  being  torn 
down  the  middle  of  myself!  Part  of  me 
feels  sorry  for  Mother,  all  by  herself, 
with  no  one  but  me.  Part  of  me  wants 
to  stay  here  all  the  time.  I  don't  know 
what  to  do!  I  wish — I  wish  I  were  dead!" 

He  rushed  up  the  stairs.  Terry  started 
after  him;  then  Stan  was  beside  her, 


m^j     Fels-Naptha  Soap 


THE   ONE   WASHDAY  'MIRACLE' 
THAT   CAN    BE    EXPLAINED! 


Women  who  use  Fels-Naptha  Soap 
see  a  'miracle'  of  cleaning 
performed  every  washday. 
And  they  know  how  it's  done: 

This  astounding  laundry  soap 

is  produced  by  blending  the 

two  greatest  cleaning  agents  known 

to  science — gentle,  active  naptha 

and  mild,  golden  soap.  The  formula 

for  this  blend  is  preserved  where  it 

was  created— in  the  Fels  laboratories. 


Thus  the  gentle,  thorough 
Fels-Naptha  cleaning  action 
is  unique.  It  cannot  be  duplicated 
by  any  other  soap— certainly  not 
by  any  chemical  soap  substitute. 

Dainty  garments  come  out  of  your 

Fels-Naptha  w^ash  as  sw^eet  and  fresh  as 

a  daisy — safe  from  strong  chemical  action 

Badly  soiled  work  clothes,  grimy  towels, 

infant  diapers  are  washed  stainlessly  clean,  without 

a  trace  of  odor — even  in  your  automatic  washer. 

Incredible?  Not  to  the  women  who  have  tried 
Fels-Naptha  Soap — because  they  want  more  than  promises 
Get  Fels-Naptha  for  your  first  washday  'miracle'  now  .  .  . 
because  you  know  what  it  will  do  .  .  .  and  why. 

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MILD     GOLDEN    SOAP  AND  ACTIVE   NAPTHA 


R 
M 

77 


The  house  is  shining-clean  for  the 
wedding  . . .  when  excelsior  from  Aunt 
Clara's  last -minute  wedding  gift  goes 
all  over  the  carpet !  What  to  do? 

Just  thistle  .  .  .  and  whisk  out  the 
Bissell  Carpet  Sweeper.  That  new 
"Bisco-matic"*  Brush  Action  sweeps 
clean  without  any  pressure  on  the 
handle  .it 


Works  automatically,  adjusting  it- 
self to  any  rug,  from  the  thickest 
broadloom  to  the  smoothest  Oriental ! 
It  even  picks  up  perfectly  when  the 
handle  is  held  low,  for  sweeping 
under  tables  and  chairs. 

Hint  to  brides:  Use  your  vacuum 
for  periodic  cleaning,  a  "Bisco-matic" 
Bissell®  for  everyday  quick  pick-ups. 


Exceptional  values.  "Bisco-maHc"6issells 
with  "Sta-up"  Handle  and  easy  "Flip-O" 
Empty  as  low  as  $6.45.  Other  models  for 
even  less.  Illustrated:  the  "Vanity"  at  $8.45. 


R 
M 

78 


The  Bissell  Carpet  Sweeper  Co. 
Grand  Rapids  2,  Michigan 


•  Reg.  U.  S.  Pat.  Off.  Bissell's  pat- 
ented full  spring  controlled  brush 


holding  her.  "Darling,"  he  said,  "don't. 
He's  better  left  alone  for  a  while,  and 
you  need  to  take  care  of  yourself.  I've 
an  idea  you're  going  to  need  all  the 
strength  you  can  muster  when  you  face 
Marion  and  the  Judge." 

It  was  hot  in  the  Judge's  chambers. 
The  dark  paneled  walls  seemed  to 
glisten  with  the  heat;  the  single  fan  did 
no  more  than  stir  the  air  so  that  it 
moved  like  a  warm  breath  across  the 
skin.  Brad,  sitting  with  Marion  and 
Terry  and  Stan  in  the  outer  office  while 
the  Judge  was  momentarily  closeted 
with  the  lawyers,  felt  that  he  would 
suffocate  if  the  hearing  went  on  much 
longer.  The  Judge  had  spoken  to  his 
mother  and  Terry  and  Stan;  in  a  mo- 
ment they  would  all  be  called  in. 

The  Judge's  door  was  opening;  the 
lawyers  were  coming  out.  The  Judge 
himself  stood  in  the  doorway,  nodding 
to  them. 

"Mrs.  Sullivan — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bur- 
ton— Brad.    If  you'll   come   inside — " 

Brad  dragged  himself  erect.  It  was 
coming  now.  And  it  was  going  to  be 
worse  than  he'd  expected.  He  was  going 
to  have  to  choose  between  his  mother 
and  his  father;  to  have  to  choose  one, 
in  the  presence  of  the  other. 

THE  Judge  started  to  seat  them,  Marion 
on  one  side  of  his  desk,  Stan  and 
Terry  on  the  other,  and  Brad  beside 
him.  But  Marion,  with  a  little  ges- 
ture of  desperation,  left  her  chair,  came 
to  place  a  protective  arm  around  Brad. 

"Your  Honor,"  she  pleaded,  "is  much 
more  of  this  necessary?  We  can't  go 
on  torturing  Brad  like  this,  trying  to 
pull  him  apart.  His  place  is  with  me, 
his  mother.  I  have  no  other  child,  no 
interest  in  life  except  him." 

"If  that's  so,"  Stan  cut  in,  "why  did 
you  leave  him  with  us  and  go  off  for 
more  than  eight  months?  You  didn't 
even  write  to  him — " 

Marion  lifted  her  head  proudly.  "I've 
explained  all  that  to  Judge  Watson.  He 
knows  that  when  my  doctor  ordered  me 
South  for  my  health,  I  never  dreamed 
I'd  be  gone  so  long,  or  I'd  have  taken 
Brad  with  me  in  the  first  place.  And 
then  when  Brad  was  established  in 
school  here,  I  didn't  think  it  was  right 
to  move  him.  As  for  not  writing — you 
know  how  attached  he's  always  been  to 
me.  I  knew  that  my  letters  would  only 
upset  him  and  make  him  more 
lonely — " 

"Upset  him,"  Stan  repeated  bitterly. 
"What  do  you  think  you'll  be  doing 
now,  if  you  take  him  away  from  his 
school  and  his  friends — " 

Marion  smiled.  "But  I  don't  intend 
to  take  him  away,"  she  said  sweetly. 
"I've  come  back  to  Dickston  to  stay.  I'm 
buying  a  house  here.  I  even  have  my 
agents  looking  for  one.  Isn't  that  so, 
Judge  Watson?" 

Brad  gasped.  This  was  the  first  he'd 
heard  of  his  mother's  buying  a  house  in 
Dickston.  Judge  Watson  turned  to  him. 
"What  do  you  think  of  that.  Brad?"  he 
asked.  "If  your  mother  settles  here?" 

Brad  shook  his  head.  He  didn't  know 
what  to  thirjk  of  it.  It  might  be  wonder- 
ful, but  somehow  all  he  could  think  of 
right  now  was  that  if  his  mother  stayed 
in  Dickston,  this  tug-of-war  between 
his  parents  would  go  on  forever. 

"I  don't  know  what  to  say,  sir,"  he 
answered.  "I'd  like  to  stay  here,  all 
right,  only — " 

"Only  it  just  wouldn't  work!"  Stan 
could  no  longer  contain  himself.  "You 
know  you've  outgrown  Dickston, 
Marion.  Even  the  country  club  set 
seems  dull  and  provincial  to  you.  You'd 
stay  for  a  couple  of  months,  or  three  or 
four — and  then  you'd  nut  the  new  house 


up  for  sale  just  as  you  did  the  big  Bur- 
ton house,  and  then  you'd  be  on  your 
way  again." 

"What  can  you  give  him?"  Marion 
cried  passionately.  "Brad's  my  whole 
life,  all  I  have — and  you  and  Terry 
have  your  own  child  coming.  Brad  will 
only  be  in  the  way,  shunted  aside — and 
I'm  not  forgetting,  Stan  Burton,  about 
the  financial  settlement  that  goes  with 
Brad's  custody.  You'd  find  that  con- 
venient, wouldn't  you,  to  use  for  your 
own  child,  you  and  Terry — "  She 
stopped,  clapping  her  hand  over  her 
mouth  in  a  childish  gesture  of  dismay. 
"I'm  sorry,  Judge  Watson,"  she  apolo- 
gized. "I  never,  never  meant  to  say 
anything  like  that!  But  I'm  so  terribly 
worried  and  overwrought  about  what 
may  happen  to  Brad — " 

Judge  Watson  nodded  gravely.  "I 
think  the  heat  alone  is  enough  to  set 
us  all  on  edge,"  he  said.  "And  I  also 
think  this  sort  of  procedure  is  getting 
us  nowhere.  I've  heard  both  sides  of 
the  story,  and  I  see  no  point  in  keeping 
you  all  here  any  longer.  I  want  to  talk 
to  Brad  now,  and  since  this  conference 
may  take  some  time,  I  think  it  best  if 
you  all  leave.     I'll  take  Brad  home." 

Terry  rose  awkwardly,  with  the  help 
of  Stan's  hand  at  her  elbow.  She  tried 
to  smile  at  Brad,  but  the  boy's  pale, 
quiet  face  unnerved  her.  Marion  bent 
tenderly  over  him. 

"Brad,  darling,  don't  be  frightened. 
Tell  His  Honor  exactly  how  you  feel 
about  everything." 

How  he  felt!  Brad  swallowed.  He 
didn't  know  how  he  felt — except  miser- 
able— or  what  he  thought.  It  was  a  mass 
of  confusions,  the  talk  about  the  new 
baby,  his  mother's  talk  about  money. 

No,  he  wasn't  sure  of  anything.  All 
he  knew  was  his  mother  fighting  for 
him,  desperately,  with  every  weapon 
she  could  think  of,  while  his  father  and 
Aunt  Terry  kept  repeating  that  he  must 
decide;  he  must  do  what  he  wanted. 
Yes,  that  was  the  difference  between 
them,  if  you  stopped  to  think  of  it  that 
way.  It  was  possible  that  his  father  and 
Aunt  Terry  wanted  him  to  stay  with 
them  for  his  own  good,  whether  or  not 
they  felt  toward  him  as  they  would  feel 
toward  their  own  child.  They  would. 
They  were  that  kind  of  people.  And  his 
mother — 

THAT  evening  Stan  and  Terry  sat 
alone  on  the  screened  porch  of  their 
little  house  on  Maple  Street. 

"Late,"  Stan  remarked.  "I  wonder 
why  Brad  isn't  back  yet.  The  Judge 
can't  have  been  talking  all  this  time." 

"He  probably  took  him  to  supper," 
said  Terry.  "There's  nothing  to  worry 
about.  He  promised  to  bring  Brad 
back  here  himself." 

"No,  he  didn't,"  Stan  corrected  her. 
"He  said  he'd  take  him  home.  And  if 
he's  decided  in  Marion's  favor — " 

"He  won't,"  said  Terry  with  an  assur- 
ance she  did  not  feel.  "He — Stan!  Isn't 
that  his  car  now?" 

They  waited,  not  moving,  hardly  dar- 
ing to  breathe,  while  the  big  car  slid  to 
a  stop  by  the  curb.  They  strained  their 
eyes  through  the  dark  as  they  heard 
the  car  door  open — and  they  saw  one 
figure  get  out.  Just  one. 

"Oh,  Stan!".  Terry  breathed.  "He's 
alone!  Darling,  don't —  We  mustn't 
jump  to  conclusions — " 

Judge  Watson  was  gravely  apologetic. 
"I  hope  you  weren't  concerned  about 
not  hearing  from  me,"  he  said  when  he 
was  seated.  "Brad  and  I  talked  so 
earnestly  and  for  so  long  that  I  lost 
track  of  time.  It  took  me  a  while  to 
break  through  his  defenses,  but  when. 
he    began    to    talk    freely,    the    words 


poured  out  of  him,  and  he  told  me 
about  situations  and  reactions  which  I 
would  never  have  got  by  questioning." 

"Judge  Watson,"  Stan  demanded  in  a 
tight  voice,  "why  are  you  telling  us  all 
this?  Is  it  an  explanation  of  your  de- 
cision— or  an  excuse?" 

"Stan!"  Terry  cautioned  softly,  and 
the  Judge  smiled. 

"I  realize  you've  been  under  a  strain, 
Mr.  Burton,  and  I'll  relieve  your  mind 
as  soon  as  possible.  But  first  there's  a 
point  or  two  I'd  like  to  get  straight.  Mr. 
Burton,  what  did  you  do  with  the  allow- 
ance your  ex-wife  sent  to  Brad?" 

"Allowance?"  said  Stan  blankly.  "She 
didn't  send  him  any  money  at  all — un- 
less he  received  mail  directly,  which 
isn't  likely." 

•  "Mmm,"  said  the  Judge.  "You  re- 
ceived no  sums  for  his  support,  even 
though  a  fund  was  created  for  that  pur- 
pose? Didn't  you  find  you  needed  extra 
money  for  taking  care  of  him?" 

"Of  course,"  said  Stan.  "But  the 
thought  of  asking  Marion  for  it  out  of 
his  fund  was  repugnant  to  me.  I  did 
want  to  increase  his  allowance,  but 
when  it  was  impossible,  Brad  got  him- 
self a  part-time  job." 

"And  you  approved?"  asked  the 
Judge. 

"I  WASN'T  pleased  that  the  only  job 
1  he  could  find  was  at  the  big  Burton 
store  which  I  used  to  own,"  Stan  ad- 
mitted. "But  I  thought  it  was  an  excel- 
lent idea  for  him  to  be  working.  I  felt 
that  he  would  learn  the  value  of  earned 
money." 

"I  see."  The  Judge  stared  reflectively 
at  him,  then  turned  to  Terry.  "Mrs. 
Burton,  when  we  spoke  alone  together 
today,  the  only  reason  you  could  give 
for  Mrs.  Sullivan's  wanting  the  boy  was 
that  she  didn't  want  you  to  have  him. 
Could  that  feeling  possibly  be  the 
result  of  your  own  imagination?" 

"My  nervous  imag —  Do  you  mean 
that  I  could  be  the  victim  of  a  per- 
secution complex?"  Terry  asked  in- 
credulously. "I — I  don't  think  so.  Your 
Honor.  If  I  were,  wouldn't  I  feel  that 
everyone  hated  me?" 

"Strange  you  should  bring  that  up," 
Stan  put  in.  "That's  the  way  Brad  was 
when  he  first  came  to  us,  eight  months 
ago.  He  was  convinced  that  no  one 
liked  him,  that  people  didn't  want  to 
be  friendly,  that  there  was  no  one  he 
could  trust.  That's  what  living  with 
Marion  did  to  him — and  it's  the  way  he's 
begun  to  be  since  she's  come  back.  I  saw 
it  this  afternoon — " 

"I  agree  with  you,"  said  Judge  Wat- 
son quietly.  He  rose.  "Mr.  Burton,  Mrs. 
Burton,  your  boy  is  outside,  in  my  car. 
I  just  wanted  to  talk  to  you  first  and 
make  sure  that  I  was  right  on  these 
jpoints.  You've  shown  me  that  I  am. 
f  Therefore,  I  am  going  to  rule  that 
custody  of  the  boy  be  turned  over  to 
you,  permanently,  and  that  his  mother, 
Marion  Sullivan,  not  be  permitted  to 
influence  or  interfere  with  his  life  in 
any  way  whatsoever." 
■  Brad  came  up  the  walk  with  the 
Judge.  He  felt  lightened  and  relieved 
'after  their  long  talk,  at  peace  now  that 
jhe'd  made  his  decision. 
I  But  there  was  one  more  thing  he 
'needed  to  know — how  they  would  feel 
jabout  it,  his  Father  and  Aunt  Terry. 
IHe  had  to  know  that  this  homecoming 
tmeant  as  much  to  them  as  it  did  to  him. 

Then  he  saw  them  coming  down  the 
lorch  steps,  his  father  a  dark,  welcom- 

g  shadow,  his  Aunt  Terry — yes,  even 
the  dusk  there  was  the  light  in  her 
ace,  the  smiling  radiance. 
J    He  began  to  run,  toward  his  waiting 
•family — toward  his  new  security. 


"Kwrn  w  44ttAM(t^ 


enriched  creme 

SHAMPOO 

contains  egg! 


(y  mjuk  c^Ms}\j^(mlsJ\}.  'malm  W  sMWito'A^ 
m  Imi'ljcimyi  m.  mh !  Hmji^mMmm)!  tah  Mk! 

It's  the  egg  that  does  it!  By  actual  scientific  test, 

the  real  egg  contained  in  powdered  form  in  Richard  Hudnut  Enriched 

Creme  Shampoo  makes  your  hair  easier  to  comb,  easier  to  set. 

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to  last  longer !  And  see  how  much  better  your  Richard  Hudnut 

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1.  Contains  egg  (powder,  1%)  — 
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2.  Not  a  wax  or  paste— but  a 
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3.  Easy  to  apply;  rinses  out  readily. 

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5.  Same  shampoo  Richard  Hudnut 
Fifth  Avenue  Salon  uses  for 
luxury  treatments! 


M 
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This  Is  Your  Life 

(Continued  from  page  31) 


proud  of  a  two-year-old  daughter  and 
an  infant  son.  He's  a  business  man — a 
star  salesman  in  an  automobile  agency 
in  Carroll,  Iowa,  and  he  runs  a  200-acre 
farm. 

Lots  of  boys  make  good  like  that, 
settle  down  early — sure.  But  Ralph 
arrived  at  this  happy  point  the  hard 
way.  Less  than  five  years  ago,  on 
December  14,  1944,  Ralph  lay  near  death 
in  a  shell-torn  street  in  Birgel,  Ger- 
many, both  of  his  legs  shattered. 

He  had  killed  a  dozen  Germans,  after 
he  was  wounded,  and  routed,  single 
handed,  a  Nazi  tank. 

Ralph  got  the  Congressional  Medal  of 
Honor  for  that  day's  work.  But  he  lost 
both  of  his  legs. 

We  heard  about  this  boy  through  the 
War  Department,  having  checked  with 
General  Omar  Bradley  on  the  hunch 
that  a  run-down  on  our  wartime 
heroes  four  years  after  the  war  might 
turn  up  a  good  story  for  the  program. 

Ralph  Neppel,  we  knew  as  soon  as 
we  heard  his  record,  was  a  young  man 
who  had  made  his  own  chances. 

From  that  point,  it  was  our  job  to  fit 
the  pieces  of  his  life  together,  round  up 
all  the  people  who  had  been  instru- 
mental in  shaping  it  in  order  to  enjoy 
the  magic  five  minutes  at  the  program's 
close  when  we  give  him  a  glimpse  of 
his  future. 

We  couldn't  go  directly  to  Ralph  for 
this  material,  of  course.  The  people 
whose  lives  are  relived  on  our  program 
don't  know  until  they're  on  the  air 
what  we're  up  to. 

We  ran  into  our  usual  problems. 

Axel  Gruenberg,  our  director,  put 
through  the  first  long  distance  call  to 
Ralph's  young  wife,  the  former  Jean 
Moore,  at  the  Neppels'  farm  home. 

Hollywood  calling,  Mr.  Gruenberg 
for  Ralph  Edwards,  for  This  Is  Your 
Life.  Would  she  tell  us  all  about  Ralph, 
bring  Ralph  to  Hollywood  for  the  pro- 
gram? 

Jean  thought  somebody  was  kidding 
her,  and  hung  up. 

This  always  happens,  at  least  once. 

We  got  the  operator  in  Carroll  again, 
induced    her   to    talk   to    Mrs.    Neppel. 

Jean  listened  to  us  the  second  time, 
and  promised  to  write  up  Ralph's  story 
as  she  knew  it.  Not  a  word  about  this 
to  Ralph,  we  warned  her.    The  War  De- 


partment would  contact  him,  ask  him  to 
go  to  Los  Angeles  to  make  a  radio 
appeal  for  the  veterans'   bureau. 

Jean's  story  came  along  in  the  mail 
in  a  few  days,  and  it  was  a  good  one. 

Ralph  and  Jean  had  met  in  1942,  at 
the  ice  skating  pond.  On  New  Year's 
Eve  he  had  taken  her  to  a  party.  After- 
wards, on  the  icy  roads,  Ralph's  car 
skidded  into  a  ditch,  and  he  had  to 
walk  Jean  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  her 
home,  and  then  two  miles  farther  to 
his  sister's  to  be  put  up  for  the  night. 

Jean  and  Ralph  were  engaged  on  his 
last  furlough  before  going  overseas.  ■ 

When  she  saw  him  again,  it  was  in 
McCloskey  General  Hospital,  in  Tem- 
ple, Texas.  He  was  getting  well  then, 
but  his  chart  read  "Double  Amputee." 
Two  months  later  they  were  married. 

It  was  not  long  after  that  Ralph  put 
hospitals  behind  him,  and  went  back 
with  his  bride  to  start  all  over  again  as 
a  farmer  in  Carroll,  Iowa. 

With  the  material  Jean  gave  us,  Jim 
Chadwick,  who  does  the  research  for 
the  program,  could  begin  to  round  up 
the  other  key  figures  in  Ralph's  past. 

Jim  talked   to   Ralph's   mother  first. 

A  pretty  remarkable  woman  in  her 
own  right,  Rose  Neppel.  Widowed  since 
Ralph  was  nine,  and  his  six  brothers 
and  sisters  all  still  of  school  age,  Mrs. 
Neppel  had  been  a  successful  farmer 
herself,  with  the  older  boys'  help. 

She  told  us  about  Ralph's  first  day  in 
the  little  red  school  house,  how  he 
shined  up  immediately  to  the  teacher — 
Miss   Edyth  Davis. 

"Where  was  Miss  Davis  now?"  Jim 
Chadwick  wanted  to  know.  Miss  Davis 
was  a  Mrs.  L.  A.  Stoner;  we  found  her 
in  Tucson,  Arizona,  and  eager  to  come 
to  Hollywood  to  honor  her  former  pupil. 
He  was  such  a  smart  boy,  she  remem- 
bered. Mischievous  sometimes,  but 
sweet. 

Older  brother  Arby — the  one  with 
whom  Ralph  had  tossed  a  coin  to  see 
which  would  go  to  war,  which  stay  be- 
hind to  help  on  the  farm — and  Ralph's 
married  sister,  Isabelle,  now  Mrs. 
Charles  Feld,  were  able  to  give  us  the 
rest  of  the  material  needed  on  the  years 
before  the  war.  Both  promised  to  ap- 
pear   on   the   program. 

The  toughest  part  of  the  research  job 
came  when  we  set  out  on  the  trail  of 


A  woman's  Sennet  heart../' 


u 


It's  about  the  inner  life  of  a  woman 
.  .  .  every  woman!  Diflferent,  com- 
plete, true-to-life  stories  taken  from 
the  pages  of  True  Story  magazine. 
Every  morning,  Monday  thru  Friday. 
Listeners  write — "It  really  is  MY 
true  story  .  .  .  because  these  dramas 
truly  picture  feminine  emotions." 

MY  TRUE  STORY 

ABC  Stcitia*tA 


Ralph's  army  pals.  We  wanted  par- 
ticularly a  buddy  of  his  basic  training 
days,  Jim  Schuele. 

We  had  a  lot  to  start  with  on  this  one. 
The  War  Department  responded  to  our 
wire:  James  Schuele  was  somewhere 
in  Iowa. 

We  weren't  discouraged.  Through 
veterans'  organizations  in  Iowa  we 
traced  Jim  Schuele  to  a  logging  camp 
at  Oak  Run,  California. 

"A  break  for  that  old  onion  peeler," 
his  voice  boomed  over  the  wire.  "That's 
great.    Just  tell  me  what  to  do." 

The  key  participant  for  our  purposes 
was  an  ex-GI  named  Gene  Rine,  of 
Akron,  Ohio.  Gene  is  the  man  who 
saved  Ralph's  life. 

The  War  Department  had  given  us 
the  details.  Ralph  had  led  his  squad 
into  an  open  square  in  the  center  of 
the  embattled  town.  Just  as  they  were 
about  to  reach  their  position  a  Ger- 
man tank  appeared.  A  shell  sped 
toward  the  group  and  exploded  in  its 
midst.  Every  man  of  the  squad,  ex- 
cept Ralph,  was  instantly  killed.  Ralph 
himself  was  skyrocketed  into  the  air. 
As  he  fell  back  to  earth,  still  conscious, 
he  pulled  himself  by  his  elbows — his 
legs  were  shattered  by  the  shell,  re- 
member— twenty-five  feet  to  his  ma- 
chine gun.  He  righted  the  weapon  and 
opened  fire  on  the  tank  and  the  more 
than  twenty  Germans  moving  up  be- 
hind it. 

THE  tank  stopped  beside  him,  so  that 
anyone  leaning  out  of  it  could  have 
dropped  a  grenade  on  him. 

He  continued  firing  at  the  Germans 
behind  the  tank,  and  soon  forced  those 
who  survived  to  retreat.  The  tank 
crew,  frightened  by  the  loss  of  its  pro- 
tecting infantrymen,  also  went  into  re- 
verse and  sped  away.  About  two 
dozen  Germans  were  left  behind,  dead. 

Gene  Rine,  watching  from  a  window 
of  a  nearby  house,  started  to  go  to  the 
wounded  sergeant's  rescue,  when  he 
saw  one  of  the  surviving  Germans  raise 
his  rifle.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  one 
of  the  bullets  from  that  gun  creased 
Ralph's  head.  The  German  aimed  the 
gun  again,  but  he  never  fired — for  a 
blast  from  Gene  Rine's  pistol  took  him 
out  of  action,  forever. 

Obviously,  we  had  to  find  Gene  Rine. 

And  find  him  we  did.  He  was  a  stu- 
dent now,  in  an  Ohio  university,  and  in 
the  midst  of  his  mid-term  exams. 

Exams  or  no  exams,  when  we  had 
told  him  what  we  wanted  he  said  just 
as  simply  as  Jim  Schuele  before  him: 
"Just  tell  me  what  you  want  me  to  do." 

He  told  us,  when  he  arrived  in  Holly- 
wood, the  rest  of  the  story  of  the  battle 
in  Birgel.  He  had  dragged  Ralph  Nep- 
pel,  nearly  unconscious  now,  to  the 
shelter  of  a  nearby  house,  rounded  up 
a   medical   officer. 

Just  before  he  left  to  go  back  to  his 
position  Ralph  called  to  him.  He  didn't 
say  thanks,  just  held  out  a  shaking 
hand,  asked  Rine  for  a  cigarette. 

Rine  lighted  one  for  him,  patted  him 
on  the  arm,  muttered  something  about 
"hang  on,  man,"  and  went  out.  He  had 
never  seen  him  from  that  day,  although 
they  had  kept  in  touch. 

We  had  a  pretty  solid  story  now,  we 
thought.  We  didn't  need  a  topper — but 
we  got  one,  in  the  form  of  a  letter  to 
Ralph  from  President  Truman. 

We  were  ready  to  go  on  the  air. 

Ralph  came  to  the  studio  with  Jean 
just  a  few  moments  before  broadcast 
to  make  his  "pitch" — or  so  he  thought — 
for  the  veterans'  bureau.  We  were  on 
the  air  when  we  first  told  him  that  he 
wa??    starring    in    This    Is    Your    Life. 

Ralph's  mother  came  on  stage  first. 


JllpA.  eeufefi  ta  kill  In  a 
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AND 

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4.  Goes   on  so   easily. ..so 
smoothly... so  quickly. 

5.  And  it  lasts -and  LASTS - 
and  L-A-S-T-S! 


iOHi 


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Don't  trust  your  romance  to  anything 
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R 
M 

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R 
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82 


"Mom,  what  on  earth  are  you  doing 
here?"  was  all  Ralph  could  say. 

Mrs.  Stoner  was  next,  and  then 
Ralph's  pretty  wife,  Jean,  and  Brother 
Arby  and  Sister  Isabelle.  Ralph  was 
too  amazed  to  say  much. 

Then  Jim  Schuele  came  on  stage, 
followed  by  Gene  Rine. 

For  the  first  time,  Ralph  found  the 
strength  to  get  out  of  his  chair,  push 
out  a  hand  to  the  man  who  had  saved 
his  life. 

"Take  it  easy,  man,"  Rine  said,  for- 
getting his  script,  tears  in  his  eyes. 

We  went  on  with  the  show  to  recall 
for  Ralph — and  our  listeners — the  bleak 
days  in  a  series  of  hospitals  both  in  Eu- 
rope and  this  country  where  Ralph 
spent  the  months  after  his  injury. 

And  we  reminded  him,  as  though  he 
would  ever  have  forgotten,  of  the  Au- 
gust morning  in  1945  when  he  stood 
with  nineteen  other  American  heroes  in 
the  East  Room  of  the  White  House  to 
receive  from  President  Truman  the 
Congressional   Medal   of   Honor. 

At  that  point  we  were  able  to  prove 
to  Ralph  that  President  Truman,  along 
with  others  of  his  countrymen  for 
whom  he  had  given  so  much,  had  not 
forgotten  him. 

We  handed  him,  right  there  on  stage, 
the  President's  letter,  which  read: 
Dear  Mr.  Neppel, 

When  I  had  the  honor  oj 
conferring  upon  you  the  Con- 
gressional Medal  of  Honor  in 
August,  1945,  at  the  White 
House,  I  was  particularly  im- 
pressed with  the  citation  ac- 
companying the  medal.  In  it, 
your  great  heroism,  above  and 
beyond  the  call  of  duty,  was 
well  described. 

I  have  learned  something 
about  your  career  since  you 
finally  left  the  hospitals  behind 
you  and  returned  to  your  own 
community  in  Carroll  County, 
Iowa.  ■  Your  accomplishments 
there  are  an  inspiration  to  all 
of  us. 

I  have  been  informed  of  your 
fine  achievements  in  farming — 
how  you  consistently  have 
topped  the  average  in  produc- 
tion of  corn,  and  how  through 
your  determination  and  high 
courage,  you  have  become  a 
leader  in  your  community,  just 
as  you  were  a  leader  of  men  in 
the   service   of  your  country. 

With  my  best  wishes  for 
your  continued  success  and 
happiness,  I  am 

Sincerely    yours, 
(SIGNED)       Harry  Truman 


I  could  hear  Ralph's  questions  over 
the  roar  of  applause,  "Is  this  really 
true?" 

He  wondered  again  if  this  could  all 
be  true  when  we  unveiled  his  Philip 
Morris  Future: 

The  new  rug  Jean  had  wanted  for  so 
long  for  their  living  room  floor;  an 
electric  clothes  dryer  and  automatic 
ironer,  and  a  vacation  for  the  young 
Neppels  whenever  they  want  it  at  Sun 
Valley,  Idaho. 

Best  of  all,  we  were  able  to  give 
Ralph  a  modern  farm  tractor  with  a 
two-row  corn  planter  which  he  had 
wanted,  but  been  unable  to  afford. 

I  guess  Ralph  shook  my  hand  a  dozen 
times  once  we  were  off  the  air,  wonder- 
ing aloud  what  he  had  done  to  make  a 
total  stranger  do  all  this  for  him. 

"Nonsense,  Ralph,"  I  told  him,  and  I 
meant  it,  "you  did  it  for  yourself."  For 
Ralph  is  one  of  the  big  people,  the 
people  who  make  their  own  chances. 

We  always  have  a  dinner  party  for 
our  radio  guests  on  the  nights  after  the 
broadcasts. 

The  night  of  Ralph's  party,  I  decided 
not  to  go,  I  thought  they  would  prefer 
privacy. 

Our  producer,  Al  Paschall,  was  on 
hand,  of  course,  to  see  that  everything 
went  off  smoothly.  He  told  me  about 
it  the  next  day.  He  was  moved  almost 
to  tears  by  the  sincere  gratitude  of 
Ralph  and  his  family  and  friends. 

Dinner  was  very  gay,  and  Ralph  said 
over  and  over,  Al  reported,  "Nothing 
like  this  ever  happened  in  Iowa." 

The  three  veterans  huddled  together 
all  evening  rehashing  their  war  experi- 
ences. Al  couldn't  get  over  the  casual 
way  in  which  Ralph  would  whip  up 
his  trouser  legs  to  show  his  buddies  the 
fine  mechanical  legs  on  which  he  gets 
around  briskly. 

We  had  told  the  Neppels  that  they 
would  be  welcome  to  stay  around  Hol- 
lywood for  a  few  days,  but  they  refused. 
Ralph  was  eager  to  get  his  hands  on  that 
new  corn  planter,  and  both  he  and  Jean 
were  terribly  homesick  for  the  children. 

I  knew  Ralph  Neppel  for  just  a  few 
hours,  really.  But  I  will  never  forget 
him — or  any  of  the  people  who  figured 
in  his  life.  They  deepened  my  con- 
viction that  the  plain  people  of  America 
are  the  great  people. 

Meeting  people  like  Ralph  week 
after  week  since  This  Is  Your  Life  was 
born  has  given  me  a  zest  for  my  job 
that  I  wouldn't  have  believed  possible. 

I  have  decided  that  helping  people 
who  help  themselves  is  the  most  re- 
warding work  in  the  world.  This  is  my 
life,  I  suppose  you  could  put  it  in  a 
nutshell.    And  I  love  it! 


FORFRIDA  Y  NIGHT  ENJOYMENT 


Tune  In 

the  JACK  CARSON  show 

with  Marion   Hutton 
Every  Friday  Night 
8  p.m.  Eastern  Time 
On  Your  CBS  Station 

For  Reading  Enjoyment:  Look  for  Jack  Carson's 
Life  Story  plus  color  portrait  in  the 
current  issue  of  TRUE  STORY  now 
on  newsstands. 


"Fin  Growing 
Up  Again" 

(Continued  jrom  page  29) 

driveway,  my  jean-clad  daughter  noted 
the  group  on  the  bridle  trail,  all  dressed 
in  levis.  Clustered  here  and  there 
among  the  buildings  were  additional 
teensters,  male  and  female,  dressed  in 
the  out-shirt  and  loafer  style.  Sandra's 
expression  modified. 

After  three  weeks  at  Chadwick,  she 
came  home  to  announce,  "Mother,  I'm 
so  mad  at  you  for  being  right.  I  love 
Chadwick." 

I  thought  this  approval  would  help 
to  sell  Ronnie  on  the  same  school,  where 
we  want  to  enroll  him  next  September. 
My  second-teen  sight  should  have 
warned  me.  He  had  selected  another 
school,  partly,  I  suspect,  to  prove  his 
independence  of  his  sister. 

Again  I  resorted  to  my  plan  of  mak- 
ing a  bargain  to  satisfy  both  parent  and 
child.  I  told  him  that  if  he  could  main- 
tain a  position  on  the  honor  roll  (com- 
prising the  ten  students  with  top 
grades)  at  Black  Foxe  Military  Acad- 
emy for  nine  straight  months,  he  would 
have  earned  the  privilege  of  selecting 
his  own  school. 

THE  first  month  he  made  it;  the  sec- 
ond, he  held  his  position;  the  third,  he 
bettered  his  standing  among  the  first 
ten;  the  fourth  month  he  came  home 
jauntily  to  announce,  "We  got  our  re- 
ports today.  Guess  I'll  be  very  happy 
at  Chadwick." 

Sandra  and  Ronnie  get  along  around 
the  house  like  the  average  brother  and 
sister,  that  is,  with  all  the  cordiality  of 
a  pair  of  strange  black  leopards.  Their 
arguments  always  deal  with  world- 
shaking  problems  such  as  who  had  the 
glue  last. 

Yet,  when  one  or  the  other  has  frac- 
tured some  household  rule  and  is  taken 
to  task,  I  note  that  the  young  Burnses 
present  a  solid  front.  Ronnie  will  say 
in  defense  of  his  sister,  "You  misunder- 
stood her,  Mother.  She  didn't  mean 
what  she  said."  And  Sandra  will  ex- 
plain, "Ronnie  would  have  been  here 
on  time,  but  he  had  to  wait  for  David 
to  come  home." 

During  my  own  formative  period,  I 
was  not  allowed  to  have  dates  until  I 
was  sixteen.  Life  moves  faster  now- 
adays. Sandra,  who  seems  more  mature 
than  her  years  would  indicate  because 
she  is  now  five  feet  nine  inches  tall, 
began  to  attend  boy-and-girl  school 
parties  when  she  was  thirteen. 

We  have  one  rule  about  this:  I  al- 
ways know  the  boy  with  whom  she  is 
spending  the  evening,  and  I  always 
know  his  family. 

We  have  established  midnight  as  the 
witching  hour;  Sandra  must  be  home 
then  or  Cinderella  has  her  dating  priv- 
ileges taken  away.  We  mothers  de- 
cided on  that  rule,  after  extensive 
telephone  consultation. 

During  my  first  teenhood,  ten  o'clock 
was  the  Friday  night  rule  when  I  was 
allowed  to  date;  eleven  was  the  week- 
end deadline. 

Nowadays,  however,  if  youngsters  see 
a  movie,  then  stop  at  a  drive-in  for 
Cokes  and  hamburgers,  it  is  difficult  for 
them  to  reach  home  before  midnight. 
I  think  it  is  better  to  make  a  rule  that 
is  easy  to  keep,  than  one  which  may  be 
innocently  broken  again  and  again. 
Not  long  ago  Sandra  spent  Saturday 
evening  with  several  girl  friends,  play- 
ing   records    and    watching    television. 


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She  was  at  home  and  tucked  in  by 
eleven,  mainly  because  she  didn't  have 
to  prove  anything  by  remaining  out 
later. 

Sandra  and  I  have  one  particular  teen 
experience  in  common.  The  first  thing 
I  used  to  ask  about  a  boy  whom  some- 
one praised  was,  "How  tall  is  he?"  I  was 
short,  so  I  found  it  almost  impossible 
to  dance  with  a  very  tall  boy. 

Sandra  asks  the  same  question  for 
the  exactly  opposite  reason.  She  doesn't 
like  to  dance  with  boys  shorter  than  she 
is.  Despite  her  five  feet  nine  inches, 
she  is  as  straight  as  an  arrow,  walks 
with  proud  grace  in  her  flat  heels, 
dances  beautifully,  and  is  frequently 
complimented  on  her  posture. 

RONNIE  has  reached  that  interesting 
masculine  state  of  being  telephoned 
by  girls.  Bachelors,  it  seems,  are  in  de- 
mand from  the  time  they  lose  interest 
in  coaster  wagons.  However,  Ronnie 
couldn't  be  less  concerned  with  the 
frilly  side  of  life.  Right  now  his  twin 
fascinations  are  mechanics  and  fish. 
He  spends  hour  after  hour  working  on 
a  small  (eighteen  inches  overall)  auto- 
motive racer  that  actually  runs;  when 
he  wearies  of  that,  he  devotes  himself 
to  his  four  aquariums  of  tropical  fish. 
Have  you  any  idea  of  what  goes  on  in 
the  life  of  a  tropical  fish? 

One  of  the  things  my  parents  didn't 
have  to  worry  about  was  the  automo- 
bile problem.  Sandra  is  going  to  learn 
to  drive  next  year.  Next  year,  also, 
Ronnie  will  be  of  legal  age  to  secure  a 
learner's  license  and  will  be  qualified  to 
drive  if  there  is  a  driving,  licensed  adult 
in  the  car  with  him. 

Considering  the  fury  of  Los  Angeles 
traffic,  this  is  something  to  keep  a 
mother  walking  the  floor  until  curfew. 
However,  I  suppose  our  great-grand- 
parents worried  when  our  grand- 
mothers were  scorching  around  town  on 
bicycles  built  for  two,  and  I  predict 
that  Ronnie  and  Sandra  will  worry 
about  their  children  when  the  young- 
sters are  taking  helicopter  lessons.  The 
human  race  is  an  institution  which  is 
determined  to  go  oftener,  faster,  and 
farther.  All  I  have  to  say  to  the  moon 
is,  "If  you  really  are  made  of  green 
cheese,  my  great-grandson  will  prob- 
ably set  up  a  dairy  store  on  your  light 
side." 

Another  menace  spared  my  parents 
during  my  original  teenstering  was  the 
combination  of  telephone  and  televi- 
sion. 

My  sympathy  goes  out  to  every  home 
in  which  both  instruments  are  installed 
within  the  grasp  of  the  growing  child. 
My  two  developed  the  horrible  habit  of 
calling  a  friend,  whose  family  also 
owned  a  television  set,  and  conferring 
on  the  problem  of  which  program  to 
watch.  Once  this  choice  was  tuned  in, 
the  conversation  went  on  like  this  for 
hours:  "Look  at  that  character!  What  a 
ham.     Isn't  this  a  terrible  program?" 

Finally,  after  having  been  cut  off 
from  our  friends,  our  business  asso- 
ciates, and  Stop  The  Music  for  months, 
we  gave  up  and  ordered  a  second  tele- 
phone, on  a  one-party  line,  to  be  in- 
stalled in  the  upstairs  sitting  room.  Our 
only  problem  then  was  to  keep  Ronnie 
and  Sandra  from  battling  to  the  death 
over  its  exclusive  use. 

Certainly  radio  and  television  have 
altered  the  hero-worshiping  habits  of 
this  new  generation.  When  I  was  a 
violent  movie  fan,  the  dream  of  my  life 
was  Ronald  Colman.  Sandra's  hero  is 
Al  Jolson.  I  made  arrangements  for 
her  to  see  a  Jolson  broadcast,  but  I 
thought  I  should  prepare  her.  "Re- 
member that  Mr.  Jolson  doesn't  look  at 


all  like  Larry  Parks,"  I  cautioned  her. 

Sandra  smiled  down  at  me  indulgent- 
ly. "I  know  he's  an  older  man.  Mother. 
I'm  interested  in  him  as  a  singer,  that's 
all." 

Her  favorite  actress  is  June  Allyson, 
from  whom  she  has  copied  her  hair 
style. 

Actually,  I  think  lovely  little  June 
unknowingly  solved  one  of  my  major 
problems.  There  was  a  time,  a  few 
years  back,  when  Sandra  developed  a 
strong  gypsy  strain.  Her  aversion  to 
water  was  positively  nomadic;  her  dis- 
trust of  a  toothbrush  was  enormous, 
and  her  hair  usually  resembled  a  Chi- 
nese bird's  nest. 

"Is  this,"  I  would  inquire  kindly,  "the 
week  we  comb  our  hair,  brush  our 
teeth,  and  scrub  the  back  of  our  neck? 
Or  was  that  last  Thursday?" 

Sandra  laughed  heartily  at  this  fee- 
ble humor  and  remained  encased  in  her 
adobe  shell.  And  then,  one  day,  aboom! 
Out  of  the  dark  brown  shell  there 
emerged  a  shining  creature.  She  show- 
ered at  least  once  a  day,  sometimes — 
during  the  summer — two  or  three 
times.  She  washed  her  hair  four  times 
a  week.    Her  teeth  began  to  gleam. 

Searching  for  an  explanation  of  this 
miracle,  I  found  a  large  picture  of  June 
Allyson  installed  in  the  place  of  honor 
in  Sandra's  bedroom.  As  your  best 
boy  friend  will  be  able  to  tell  you,  one 
of  June's  charms  is  her  air  of  just  hav- 
ing stepped,  dew-washed,  out  of  the 
heart  of  a  gardenia. 

I  wonder  how  long  it  will  be  before 
Ronnie  notices  June  Allyson?  If  I 
knew  I  would  buy  stock  in  a  soap  com- 
pany, because  the  earnings  are  bound 
to  soar. 

Sometimes  I  have  felt  that  our  chil- 
dren obtained  the  delights  of  childhood 
too  early.  If  I  had  it  to  do  over  again, 
I  would  withhold  some  of  our  presents 
until  the  children  exercised  their  imagi- 
nations to  the  point  of  yearning  for 
some  object.  To  want  something,  to 
dream  of  its  precise  color  or  size  or 
speed,  to  talk  about  it  and  then  finally 
to  own  the  object  is  a  triumph  of  child- 
hood which  can't  be  duplicated  later. 

BUT  if  I — the  big,  strong,  brave  parent 
— had  tried  to  be  sensible,  I  would 
have  had  to  lock  my  husband  in  a  closet 
for  two  months  before  and  one  month 
after  Christmas.  George,  as  deep  in  his 
second  teenhood  as  I  am,  has  always 
been  able  to  think  of  the  thing  every 
child  should  have  just  one  day  after  the 
manufacturer  placed  it  on  the  market. 

I  can  think  of  only  one  thing  our 
youngsters  have  been  denied.  They 
decided,  about  a  year  ago,  that  they 
couldn't  struggle  through  another  un- 
derprivileged week  without  a  motion 
picture  projector. 

George  and  I  talked  it  over.  We 
aren't  picture  people,  so  we  don't  have 
the  trouble  sneaking  into  a  theater  that 
picture  stars  do.  We  get  a  kick  out  of 
going  to  the  Chinese  or  the  Cathay 
Circle  and  seeing  a  movie  with  a  large, 
non-professional  audience.  There  is  a 
refreshing  difference  between  the  re- 
actions of  a  non-orofessional  and  a  stu- 
dio audience.  We  like  the  change  of 
pace  and  recreational  scene. 

George  and  I  agreed  that  if  we  had 
our  own  projector,  we  would  rent  films  ] 
and  see  them  in  our  own  home  with  a  ; 
group  of  movie  or  radio  friends.     "De- 
prive us  of  our  nights  out,"  said  George.  , 

Our  "no"  vote  against  the  projector 
was  not  popular  with  our  progeny.  j 

We  have  tried  to  teach  the  value  of  ; 
money  to   Sandra   and  Ronnie,   but   it  I 
isn't  easy,  and  I'm  not  certain  that  such 
wisdom  can  be  taught  at  all.    Either  a 


■ 


.^ 


person  plays  banknotes  by  ear,  or 
money  never  talks  to  one  at  all.  George 
is  a  fine  example  of  this  truth. 

He  grew  up  on  the  lower  East  Side 
in  New  York,  one  of  thirteen  children. 
The  family  was  terribly  crowded  to- 
gether; the  children  were  never  warmly 
clothed,  and  often  they  were  hungry. 

One  would  imagine  that  this  sort  of 
childhood  would  make  a  man  wise 
about  money.  It  might  even,  under- 
standably, make  him  tight-fisted. 

Not  George.  He  has  always  been  the 
soul  of  open-handed  generosity.  When 
he  shops,  he  never  asks  the  price  be- 
fore making  a  purchase  (except  when 
I'm  along  and  nudge  him  into  inquir- 
ing). He  never  totals  a  restaurant 
check,  and  I  think  he  tips  too  much  all 
the  time.  When  he  signs  the  checks  our 
business  manager  submits,  George 
never  even  glances  at  the  vouchers. 
Obviously,  George's  example  would 
never  instruct  our  children  in  the  nar- 
row ways  of  thrift. 

I  insisted  that  they  be  given  allow- 
ances with  which  they  must  purchase 
the  incidentals  they  felt  they  needed. 
So  what  happens?  So  Sandra  and  Ron- 
nie turn  out  to  have  prudence  built 
into  their  systems.  Ronnie's  allow- 
ance, per  week,  is  just  enough  to  take 
him  to  a  Saturday  movie  and  to  pro- 
vide a  Coke  and  hamburger  afterward. 
Instead  of  using  his  money  that  way, 
he  buys  tools  with  which  to  work  on 
his  mechanical  creations.  Sometimes 
he  buys  a  new  batch  of  tropical  fish. 
Or,  oddest  indulgence  of  all,  he  will 
enjoy  a  Saturday  luncheon  in  one  of 
Beverly  Hills'  delicatessens. 

One  of  the  first  Christmas  presents 
Ronnie  ever  gave  me  was  a  box  of 
cleansing  tissues,  bought  at  the  dime 
store.  His  most  recent  gift  was  quite 
as  practical.  I  had  been  given  a  Ross 
Shattuck  landscape;  it  needed  the  cus- 
tomary overhead  light  to  do  it  justice 
when  hung.  "Don't  buy  the  light,"  Ron- 
nie instructed  me.  "That  will  be  my 
present  to  you." 

SANDRA  is  also  sensible.  One  of  her 
first  gifts  to  me  was  a  package  of 
emery  boards  from  the  dime  store.  Last 
Christmas  she  presented  me  with  an 
exquisite  handmade  lace  handkerchief. 

1  say  it  with  a  certain  amount  of  quiet 
pride:  the  Burns  babes  have  taste. 

Taste,  but  maybe  no  talent.  Neither 
shows  the  faintest  interest  in  show 
business.  Of  course,  like  all  parents, 
we  have  given  them  "every  advantage" 
—whether  they  regarded  the  various 
lessons  in  that  light  or  not. 

We  started  them  early  with  dancing 
lessons.  Ronnie  was  quite  good  at  tap, 
but  he  wouldn't  work  at  it.  Sandra 
learned  to  be  a  featherweight  ballroom 
dancer  and  was  satisfied. 

We  gave  them  piano  lessons.  Sandra 
developed  a  certain  amount  of  facility, 
but  she  wouldn't  practice.  Ronnie's  in 
the  midst  of  studying  piano  now,  but  he 
and  I  are  ruining  some  of  the  best  hours 
of  our  teens  in  the  process.  I  sit  beside 
the  piano,  giving  him  the  line  made 
famous  by  ten  or  fifteen  generations  of 
mothers,  "You'll  thank  me  some  day." 

As  I  say  it,  I  know  that  he  would 
I  much  rather  be  swimming  (he  is  so 
good  in  the  water  that  he  makes  his 
own  tropical  fish  look  like  landlub- 
bers) ,  but  I  repeat  with  conviction, 
"You'll  thank  me  some  day." 

Whether  he  does  5r  not,  I  may  as 
well  be  honest  and  admit  that — here  and 
now — I  am  thanking  my  two  teensters 
for  returning  me,  through  their  experi- 
ence, to  a  magic  time  of  life.  In  my  sec- 
ond teenhood,  I  couldn't  be  happier 


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l^li^  mi  mw  h(M 

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Parky  Pulled  Me  Through 

(Continued  from  page  35) 


1947  for  a  little  spinal  surgery  that  that 
was  the  last  time  I'd  walk  for  nearly  a 
year.  I'm  sure  my  doctor  had  no  ex- 
pectation of  any  such  serious  conse- 
quences, either.  All  he  intended  to  do 
was  cut  away  an  overgrowth  of  bone  on 
my  upper  vertebrae  that  had  caused  me 
considerable  pain  during  the  previous 
five  years.  Of  course,  spinal  surgery  is 
always  a  serious  matter,  but  I  didn't 
dread  my  operation.  In  fact,.  I  looked 
forward  to  it,  thinking  how  good  it 
would  feel  to  be  rid  of  those  nagging 
aches  that  had  plagued  me  so  mysteri- 
ously until  the  neuro-surgeon  finally 
located  their  cause.  I  confidently  ex- 
pected to  be  up  and  around  within  a 
couple  of  weeks  after  the  surgery. 

I  had  to  be  up  and  around.  Meet  Me 
At  Parky's  was  due  to  resume  broad- 
casting in  another  month,  after  the 
usual  summer  lay-off. 

"Don't  worry,"  was  my  last  admoni- 
tion to  my  wife,  Thelma.  "There's  go- 
ing to  be  nothing  to  this." 

Well,  I  was  mistaken.  Something 
went  wrong  during  the  operation.  My 
doctor  had  to  resort  to  the  electric  cau- 
terizer.  That  stopped  the  hemorrhage 
and  probably  saved  my  life,  but  it  had 
another  effect — and,  to  coin  a  phrase,  it 
shouldn't  happen  to  a  dog. 

Two  months  after  the  operation  I 
was  still  in  the  hospital,  propped  up  in 
bed,  unable  to  move  a  muscle  below  my 
waist.  I  kept  assuring  everybody, 
especially  Thelma  and  the  boys,  that 
I'd  be  up  and  around  shortly. 

Only  one  person  remained  skeptical 
in  the  face  of  my  repeated  assurance 
that  nothing  serious  was  wrong.  I  was 
the  doubter.  As  time  passed,  and  ex- 
pected improvement  failed  to  show  up, 
one  grim  word  kept  getting  nearer 
and  nearer  to  the  surface  of  my  mind. 
I  held  it  back  as  long  as  I  could,  but 
finally  it  burst  out,  with  stunning, 
numbing  force:  paralysis! 

One  afternoon  there  in  the  hospital  I 
said  the  words  aloud  for  the  first  time: 
"I'm  paralyzed."  But  saying  it  aloud 
didn't  diminish  the  size  of  my  disability. 
Talking  it  over  with  the  doctor  didn't, 
either.  When  I  flung  my  assertion  at 
him,  I  was  probably  hoping  subcon- 
sciously he'd  tell  me  I  was  wrong.  He 
didn't.  "Having  to  use  that  electric  cau- 
terizer,"  the  doctor  admitted,  "seems 
to  have  set  up  an  irritation  that's 
caused    your    motor    nerves    to    forget 


their  functions.  They'll  have  to  be  re- 
trained.   That  will  take  time." 

It  was  then  I  decided  I'd  have  to  drop 
Parky.  How  could  I,  in  my  physically 
insolvent  condition,  expect  to  do  a 
presentable  radio  show? 

Well,  you  know  how  Parky  reacted 
to  my  attempt  to  dissolve  our  partner- 
ship. He  refused  to  take  himself  off, 
as  requested.  He  kept  hanging  over 
my  bed,  needling  me  with  pep  talks. 

Even  in  memory  there  was  no  escap- 
ing him.  As  I  lay  there  in  the  hospital 
bed,  my  inner  dialogue  began  to  take 
the  shape  of  a  mental  review  of  my 
twenty-five  years'  association  with 
Parkyakarkus  and  the  curious  way  in 
which  this  indomitable  character  I'd 
dreamed  up  for  my  own  amusement 
had  changed  my  whole  life. 

When  I  was  still  a  kid  in  my  teens,  my 
father  was  an  importer  in  Boston,  han- 
dling the  products  of  Balkan  countries, 
and  he  had  dealings  with  a  good  many 
Greek  people  engaged  in  the  export- 
import  trade.  Naturally,  I  met  a  lot  of 
these  folks,  either  in  Father's  office  or 
when  he  brought  them  home  to  dinner, 
and  I  was  fascinated  by  them,  their  ex- 
uberant vitality,  their  irresistible  good 
humor,  and  most  of  all  by  the  way  their 
Greek-nurtured  tongues  spoke  English 
so  that  it  became  almost  another  lan- 
guage, exotic,  pungent  and  marvelously 
expressive  of  subtle  shades  of  feeling 
and  meaning. 

I  began  to  imitate  some  of  the  Greek- 
Americans  I  knew,  not  merely  their 
way  of  speaking,  but  also  their  gestures 
and  facial  expressions.  Ridicule  was 
never  any  part  of  the  idea  behind  my 
imitativeness.  By  assuming  the  man- 
ner and  expression  of  these  Greeks 
whom  I  liked  and  admired,  I  could  say 
and  do  things  that  convention-bound 
Harry  Einstein  would  never  have  dared 
do  or  say. 

As  my  Greek  character  grew  with 
me,  he  acquired  the  name,  Parkyakar- 
kus,  that's  stuck  with  him  ever  since.  At 
first  Parky  was  known  only  to  my  fam- 
ily and  close  friends.  His  initial  public 
appearance  was  completely  unpre- 
meditated. 

As  a  young  business  man,  I'd  joined 
several  civic  clubs  there  in  Boston, 
and  one  day  at  a  club  luncheon  I  was 
called  on  quite  unexpectedly  to  say  a 
few  words  to  the  membership.  I  was 
numb  with  horror. 


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Then  Parky  came  galloping  to  my 
rescue.  Almost  without  realizing  what 
I  was  doing,  I  found  myself  in  my 
Greek-American  characterization,  criti- 
cizing the  food  at  the  luncheon,  telling 
the  toastmaster  his  jokes  weren't  fun- 
ny, and  talking  about  local  politics  in 
uninhibited  Parkyakarkus  style.  Since 
this  is  no  place  for  false  modesty,  I  will 
tell  the  truth.    Parky  wowed  'em. 

In  addition  to  frequent  appearances  at 
club  affairs.  Parky  was  soon  cluttering 
up  the  air  waves  in  the  vicinity  of  Bos- 
ton. This  went  on  for  several  years, 
but  Parky  might  have  remained  a 
purely  local  celebrity  if  he  hadn't  got- 
ten Eddie  Cantor's   goat. 

That  was  in  1934,  and  Cantor  was  at 
the  height  of  his  radio  fame.  One  of 
the  organizations  to  which  I  belonged 
managed  to  get  him  as  guest  speaker 
for  its  annual  banquet,  and  we  con- 
sidered ourselves  very  lucky  to  do  it, 
I  can  tell  you.  However,  I'm  not  going 
to  tell  you  who  originated  the  idea  of 
putting  the  rib  on  Cantor  at  the  ban- 
quet. Anyway,  the  idea  appeared,  and 
it  grew,  and  Parkyakarkus  was  elected 
to  do  the  job. 

CAME  banquet  night,  and  Eddie  gave 
a  really  sparkling  performance  as 
principal  speaker  of  the  evening. 
Everyone  at  the  tables  was  roaring  with 
laughter  when  he  finished — with  one 
exception.  The  exception  was  an  enor- 
mously dignified  individual  sitting  at 
the  speakers'  table.  A  wide  red  sash 
bisected  the  gleaming  white  of  his  dress 
shirt,  and  an  imposing  array  of  medals 
and  ribbons  bedecked  the  front  of 
his  coat.  After  Cantor  had  finished  his 
performance,  this  bemedaled  dignitary, 
who  hadn't  cracked  a  smile  at  Eddie's 
best  jokes,  was  introduced  as  a  special 
guest  of  honor  for  the  evening:  a  visit- 
ing Greek  consular  official  of  high  rank, 
Mr.  Nick  Parkyakarkus.  Nearly  every- 
one in  the  audience  except  Cantor  knew 
what  was  coming. 

Parkyakarkus  stood  up  to  acknowl- 
edge the  introduction.  Then  he  launched 
into  some  more  general  remarks  about 
the  American  sense  of  humor. 

Without  attempting  to  render  the  di- 
alect, this  is  approximately  what  Parky 
said:  "You  Americans  are  such  chil- 
dren when  it  comes  to  humor.  No 
sophistication.  No  subtlety.  The  sim- 
plest little  things  amuse  you.  I  could 
hardly  believe  my  ears  when  I  heard 
you  all  laughing  so  heartily  at  this  man 
Cantor,  just  now.  If  you  Americans 
pay  this  man  a  million  dollars  a  year,  as 
I  have  heard  you  do,  all  I  can  say  is,  you 
must  be  crazy." 

I  had  turned  to  face  Eddie  as  I  spoke. 
His  face  was  a  spectacle  I  wouldn't 
like  to  have  missed.  Still  thinking  I 
was  a  bona  fide  Greek  dignitary,  and 
fearing  to  create  an  international  inci- 
dent, Eddie  managed  to  hold  his  homi- 
cidal impulse  in  check. 

But  I  couldn't  hold  myself  in  check 
any  longer.  I  had  to  let  go  and  laugh, 
and  of  course  that  gave  it  all  away  to 
Cantor.  Slowly  his  face  resumed  a 
more  normal  hue  and  then  he,  tog,  be- 
gan to  laugh — and  louder  than  anyone 
else.  Later,  as  the  banquet  was  break- 
ing up,  he  came  over  to  shake  my  hand 
and  say,  "I'd  like  to  have  you  appear  on 
my  radio  show  sometime.  How'd  you 
like  that?" 

How  would  I  like  that?  I  couldn't 
have  been  prouder  if  I'd  been  told  the 
President  wanted  me  in  his  cabinet. 

I  wasn't  long  finding  out  that  Eddie 
Cantor  wasn't  one  of  those  careless 
great  ones  who  go  around  rousing  hoDes 
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they  say.  The  following  Thursday, 
February  18,  1934,  I  received  a  telegram 
saying:  "Have  good  spot  for  you  Sun- 
day. Wire  if  you  can  meet  me  at  NBC 
for  rehearsal.     Eddie  Cantor." 

During  the  rest  of  that  season,  I  made 
frequent,  but  not  regular  appearances 
on  the  Cantor  show.  I  could  do  it 
easily  because  I  was  single  and  had  no 
responsibilities  beyond  my  advertis- 
ing agency,  which  had  developed  into 
a  lively  concern  employing  fourteen 
people.  They  were  quite  capable  of 
running  the  business  during  my  ab- 
sences, and  did. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  next  season. 
Cantor  had  a  new  surprise  for  me. 

He  asked  me  one  day:  "How  much 
did  you  make  last  year  out  of  your 
business,  Harry?"  I  told  him.  It  was 
no  enormous  sum,  but  a  nice  living. 

Eddie  said,  "If  I  paid  you  more, 
would  you  come  with  me  on  a  full  time 
basis  for  the  next  season?" 

I'd  almost  blurted,  "Yes,"  before  a 
sizable  objection  occurred  to  me.  So  I 
merely  told  Eddie  I'd  like  to  think  it 
over  for  a  little  while. 

There  were  those  fourteen  employees 
of  mine  to  think  about.  What  would 
they  do,  if  I  just  shut  down  my  business 
and  walked  off,  leaving  them  jobless  in 
the  midst  of  the  depression?  Then  the 
very  simple  solution  came  to  me.  Why 
not  just  turn  the  business  over  to  the 
people  who'd  helped  me  build  it  up? 
They'd  already  proved  they  could  run 
it,  when  I  wasn't  around.  So  that's  what 
I  did,  thus  freeing  myself  without  hurt- 
ing anyone  else. 

I  worked  for  Eddie  Cantor  for  three 
of  the  most  enjoyable  years  of  my  life. 
When  Eddie  came  to  Hollywood  to 
make  the  picture  "Strike  Me  Pink"  for 
Samuel  Goldwyn,  I  came  along  and 
worked  in  that  and  several  other 
movies  as  a  featured  player. 

The  next  year  I  was  put  under  con- 
tract by  RKO,  and  that  was  the  best 
thing  that  ever  happened  to  me  in  Hol- 
lywood— not  because  RKO  gave  me 
starring  parts  (they  didn't),  but  be- 
cause it  was  on  the  RKO  lot  that  I  first 
met  Thelma  Leeds,  then  a  radio  singer 
and  movie  feature  player.  I  was  about 
thirty  years  old,  still  unmarried.  I'd 
been  so  busy  with  my  advertising  busi- 
ness and  with  Parkyakarkus  that  I'd 
never  had  time  to  fall  in  love.  Till  I 
met  Thelma.  On  my  side,  it  was  love  at 
first  sight.  Then  followed  about  six  of 
the  most  suspenseful  months  I've  ever 
lived  through,  during  which  time  I 
worked  harder  than  I'd  ever  worked 
at  anything,  trying  to  sell  Thelma  the 


idea  of  becoming  Mrs.  Einstein.  I  doubt 
that  I'd  qualify  as  a  great  lover,  so  it 
must  have  been  my  persistence  that  fi- 
nally overcame  Thelma.  We  were  mar- 
ried on  February  7,  1937.     We  bought 
the  house  in  Beverly  Hills  where   we 
still  live,  and  Thelma  gave  up  a  prom- 
ising career  in  the  entertainment  world 
in  order  to  make  our  new  house  a  home 
for  me  and,  ultimately,  our  boys,  who 
now  number  three:   Clifford,  ten;  Bob-i 
by,  six;  and  Albert,  sixteen  months.  Nol 
reasonable   man   could    really   ask   fori 
more  good  breaks  than  I've  had.  j 

In  1937  I  finally  yielded  to  Parkya-| 
karkus'  urgings  and  branched  out  to' 
set  up  my  own  independent  airshow:  [ 
Meet  Me  At  Parky's.  , 

Our  first  show  after  my  paralysis! 
was  aired  on  Sunday  night,  October  19, 
1947.  We  did  it  without  letting  even 
the  studio  audience  know  that  behind 
the  counter  of  Parky's  lunchroom,  un- 
der his  white  chef's  outfit,  and  behind 
his  broad  grin,  was  a  disabled  man 
who'd  had  to  be  carried  in  and  propped 
up  in  an  armchair  before  the  curtains 
were  drawn.  Nobody  noticed  any 
change  in  Parky,  any  letdown. 

Even  though  it  was  a  rather  grim 
struggle  at  times,  one  I  might  never 
have  been  able  to  make  if  Thelma  and 
the  boys  hadn't  been  in  there  helping 
Parky  shove,  we  got  through  the  sea- 
son in  great  style.  Many  people  were 
kind  enough  to  say  that  '47-'48  was 
Parky's  best  year. 

Keeping  Parky  on  the  air  the  whole 
of  last  season  is  the  one  thing  I  give 
most  credit  to  for  the  gratifying  re- 
covery I'm  making  from  the  paralysis. 
Of  course  the  swimming  pool  in  which 
I  work  out  daily  helps,  too.  I  never 
had  a  swimming  pool  until  I  was  told 
it  was  the  one  thing  that  would  do 
most  to  help  me  learn  to  walk  again. 
I  imagine  I  have  the  only  pool  in  Bev- 
erly Hills  built  on  a  doctor's  prescrip- 
tion. Here's  whc''  the  doctor  wrote  on 
the  prescription  blanx  he  gave  me  when 
I  came  home  from  the  hospital:  "In- 
stall one  swimming  pool  and  use  three 
times  daily,  before  meals." 

Last  week  the  doctor  told  me  my  re- 
covery was  eighty  per  cent  complete. 

"Will  I  be  able  to  walk  five  miles?" 
I  asked.  Because,  as  soon  as  I  can  be- 
gin, I  intend  to  take  a  long  walk  every 
day  with  my  best  friend — Parkyakar- 
kus. I  guess  I'll  just  have  to  take  him 
along  with  me  for  the  rest  of  my  life. 
Yes,  Parky  will  always  be  around  as 
long  as  there's  a  Harry  Einstein.  I  owe 
a  lot  to  that  guy.  I'll  never  try  to  brush 
him  off  again. 


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Come  and  Visit 
Dennis  Day 

(Continued  from  page  45) 

fireplace,  the  water  colors  on  the  walls, 
the  Dresden  figures  in  the  mahogany 
cabinet,  the  lamps  and  the  deep  rose 
drapes  at  the  big  front-room  windows. 
On  the  mantel  in  a  place  of  honor  are 
the  blue  luster  candelabra  Dennis 
gave  his  bride  on  their  first  Christmas 
together.  Because  it's  a  hillside  home, 
the  ground  floor  rooms  are  on  different 
levels.  When  you  walk  into  the  tile- 
fioored  hall,  you  look  into  the  living 
room  which  is  down  a  step  to  your  left, 
and  into  the  dining  room,  up  a  step  to 
the  right.  If  the  door  at  the  end  of  the 
hall  by  the  stairs  is  open,  you'll  catch  a 
glimpse  of  a  shining  white  kitchen 
equipped  for  efficiency. 

Peggy  has  redone  Dennis'  combina- 
tion study  and  office  with  plaid  paper  on 
the  walls,  a  massive  desk  and  cabinets 
for  his  records.  The  bedroom  is  a  con- 
cession to  her — its  rose  satin  drapes, 
matching  dressing  table  skirt,  chaise 
longue  and  spreads  make  it  completely 
feminine. 

LIFE  for  Peggy  and  Dennis  centers 
about  the  big,  airy  room  which  they 
decided  upon  for  the  nursery.  When 
they  knew  they  were  going  to  be  par- 
ents they  shopped  furiously  for  nursery 
equipment.  They  chose  a  picture-paper 
for  the  walls  and  they  narrowed  down 
their  choice  of  furniture  to  two  sets, 
identical  except  that  one  was  pink  and 
one  blue.  There  they  let  the  matter  rest 
until  the  third  Patrick  McNulty  made 
his  appearance  last  December,  on,  of  all 
days,  a  Friday  when  his  father  has  two 
radio  rehearsals.  Patrick  himself  settled 
the  question  of  color  for  his  domain. 

Peggy,  with  the  help  of  one  maid, 
takes  care  of  the  house  and  Patrick  III 
is  entirely  in  his  mother's  charge.  Once 
he  had  a  nurse,  but  neither  Peggy  nor 
Dennis  wanted  to  share  their  son  with 
anyone — so  Peggy  took  over.  She'll  tell 
you  about  the  baby-sitter  problem  the 
McNultys  share  with  many  other  young 
couples,  and  she'll  say  she  rarely  gets 
down  to  the  radio  station  to  see  her 
famous  husband  on  his  own  show  or  on 
the  Jack  Benny  program  any  more. 

Dennis,  of  course,  is  firmly  convinced 
there  was  never  another  child  like 
Patrick.  This,  in  spite  of  the  dim  view 
Patrick  took  of  his  father  in  the  begin- 
ning. When  Dennis,  for  the  first  time, 
picked  up  his  son  and  sang  him  an  Irish 
air,  Patrick's  response  was  a  howl  of 
outraged  disapproval.  He  is  probably 
the  only  audience  that  ever  criticized 
Dennis  Day  so  violently. 

Patrick,  however,  has  now  adjusted 
himself  to  his  father's  voice  and  listens 
clear  through  a  song  without  interrup- 
tion. He  even  gives  indication  of  be- 
coming a  Dennis  Day  fan. 

Peggy  will  know  how  to  deal  with 
another  kind  of  fan.  She's  been  exposed 
to  them  ever  since  she's  been  married. 

In  fact  the  honeymoon  was  just  over 
when  she  ran  into  the  more  virulent 
type.  One  afternoon  the  phone  rang 
and  when  Peggy  answered,  a  feminine 
voice,  in  tones  best  described  as  throb- 
bing, asked  for  Dennis. 

"He's  not  here,"  said  Peggy  politely. 
"Would  you  leave  a .  message?  This  is 
his  wife." 

There  was  a  click  at  the  other  end  of 
the  line.   That  was  all. 

The  same  thing  happened  a  day  or  so 
later  and  Peggy  began  to  give  the  mat- 
ter   some    serious    consideration.     The 


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next  time  the  event  "was  repeated  she 
was  ready. 

"Wait,"  she  said,  "are  you  one  of  the 
Dennis  Day  Dreamers?  If  you  are  I'd 
like  to  meet  you.  Won't  you  come  over 
for  tea  this  afternoon  and  see  Dennis 
and  me?" 

Well,  the  voice,  after  a  pause,  said 
yes — and  could  she  bring  a  couple  of 
friends? 

That  afternoon  the  five  officers  of  the 
Dennis  Day  Dreamers  were  on  the  door- 
step. Peggy  McNulty  took  them  into 
the  living  room,  served  them  Cokes  and 
cookies,  introduced  them  to  their  idol 
who  showed  up  a  bit  later,  and  every- 
one had  a  nice  time. 

Let  it  be  recorded  that  the  club  is 
now  known  the  length  and  breadth  of 
three  high  schools  as  the  Peggy  and 
Dennis  Day  Dreamers.  Dennis  told  his 
wife  proudly  that  it  had  taken  him 
much  longer  than  it  had  her  to  get  a 
fan  club.     "And  I  can  sing,"  he  added. 

Peggy  takes  family  parties  in  stride, 
too,  wnich  is  a  good  thing  because  the 
McNultys  and  the  Ahlmquists  enjoy 
meeting  and  visiting  together.  When 
they're  all  assembled  they  make  quite 
a  sizable  crowd. 

PEGGY  and  Dennis  held  their  first 
family-and-closest-friends  gathering 
on  the  occasion  of  the  christening  of 
Patrick.  There  were  forty  present. 
Peggy  fixed  the  refreshments,  bathed 
and  dressed  the  baby,  got  herself  ready 
for  the  event,  supervised  Dennis'  ward- 
robe, marshalled  the  entire  crowd  for 
the  ceremony  and  then  reverted  to  be- 
ing hostess  for  the  party  that  followed. 
Those  present  were  almost  equally  di- 
vided between  Ahlmquists  and  McNul- 
tys. Dennis  has  four  brothers  and  a 
sister — most  of  them  married.  Peggy 
has  only  one  brother  but  she  makes  up 
for  this  by  having  a  goodly  selection  of 
aunts  and  uncles. 

Dennis  is  a  man  with  hobbies — the 
hobbies  involve  guns,  fishing  rods,  and 
complicated  mechanical  gadgets  he'll 
use  someday  to  build  furniture.  He 
added  deep  sea  fishing  to  his  list  of 
favorite  ways  to  relax  when  he  and 
Peggy  summered  at  the  beach  last  year 
instead  of  going  to  Ireland  as  they'd 
planned.  They'd  counted  on  a  thir- 
teen-week vacation,  but  Dennis'  time 
off  the  air  was  shortened  to  eight  weeks, 
and  besides,  there  was  the  matter  of 
Patrick.  So  Ireland  was  put  off  until 
this  summer.  Dennis  spent  last  sum- 
mer collecting  deep  sea  fishing  gear 
and  now  he  talks  about  the  day  when 
he  and  young  Patrick  will  go  down  to 
the  sea  together.  This  will  be  okay 
with  Peggy — she  doesn't  care  about 
rocking  on  the  waves. 

Going  to  the  beach  for  the  summer 
precipitated  the  first  McNulty  family 
quarrel.  It  happened  the  morning  of 
the  day  before  they  were  to  leave  on 
vacation.  Peggy  had  a  million  things 
to  do,  what  with  closing  up  the  house 
and  getting  packed.  She  didn't  think 
Dennis  had  any  appointments  for  the 
day,  so  when  he  went  out  the  front  door 
in  his  usual  Dagwood  fashion,  she  called 
after  him  for  his  plans. 

He  flung  back  a  vague  answer, 
whipped  into  the  garage,  backed  out  his 
car  and  was  gone.  Peggy  was  more 
than  a  little  annoyed  and  by  the  time 
Dennis  phoned  home  some  hours  later 
she  was  giving  a  good  performance  of 
a  martyred  housewife.  The  result  was 
that  they  hung  up  the  phones  on  each 
other.  After  a  while  Peggy  relented. 
She  took  time  to  dig  out  already- 
packed  pots,  pans  and  groceries  and 
cooked  a  nice  dinner.  By  the  time  Den- 
nis arrived,  dinner  was  on  the  table. 


candles  were  lighted  and  Peggy  was 
her  most  charming  self.  Then  Dennis 
was  martyred.  Seems  he'd  spent  the 
day  arranging  a  surprise  going-away 
party  for  her  at  his  mother's,  and  had 
all  her  family  and  his  assembled  there 
waiting  for  him  to  bring  her  over.  Peg- 
gy and  Dennis  ate  two  dinners  that 
night. 

Dennis  teases  her  unmercifully  and 
any  subject  will  do  if  she  indicates  in 
the  slightest  that  she'll  rise  to  the  bait. 
In  the  first  months  of  their  marriage  he 
teased  her  about  her  cooking.  Now- 
adays he  teases  her  about  her  weight. 
She's  really  slender  but  she  contends 
she  can't  ever  eat  a  bite  of  dessert  in 
peace.  The  topper  came  when  he 
bought  her  a  bicycle  for  exercise.  Later 
she  found  out  he'd  bought  a  pair  of 
them,  and  actually  he  had  planned  that 
they'd  ride  together  on  Sunday  morn- 
ings. "When  we  get  rich,"  he  said, 
"we'll  trade  these  in  for  horses." 

Dennis  has  a  penchant  for  making 
appointments  he  can't  keep.  He  fills 
his  day  too  full,  Peggy  tells  him  to  no 
avail.  She's  tried  keeping  a  schedule 
for  him  herself  but  up  to  now  it  hasn't 
been  a  cure — he  goes  on  making  his  last 
appointment  at  5:45  in  the  happy  con- 
viction that  he  can  make  it  home  for 
dinner  at  six.  Consequently  when  the 
Days  are  invited  out  for  a  six  o'clock 
dinner  they  invariably  arrive,  breath- 
less, at  seven. 

Their  closest  friends  are  Dennis' 
business  associates  and  Peggy's  high 
school  and  college  chums.  When  the 
McNultys  give  a  party,  everyone  col- 
lects in  the  den  which  is  a  rather 
small  room.  Peggy  decided  to  enlarge 
it  by  having  one  wall  knocked  out  after 
their  last  party  when  twenty  people 
crowded  in  there  and  sat  on  the  floor. 
In  the  summer  Dennis  barbecues  steaks 
according  to  a  recipe  he  learned  when 
he  was  stationed  in  Honolulu  during 
the  war.  The  two  are  collecting  books 
for  the  day  when  they  have  time  and 
can  catch  up  on  their  reading.  When 
she  has  time,  Peggy  wants  to  take  piano 
lessons — she  was  a  pretty  good  musi- 
cian when  she  was  in  school.  And  when 
Dennis  has  time,  he'll  use  the  work- 
room garage  to  build  furniture. 

THIS  leisurely  period  they  talk  about 
looks  a  long  way  off.  Dennis'  career 
continues  to  zoom,  and  his  music  pub- 
lishing company,  Dennis  Day  Enter- 
prises, is  going  great.  They've  put  out 
several  hit  tunes  including  "Clancy 
Lo^'ered  the  Poom,"   and   "Look  Up." 

Peggy  and  Dennis  probably  won't 
move  from  their  present  home  untH  its 
ten  rooms  grow  too  small  for  them.  They 
want  a  large  family.  They're  already 
planning  to  send  Patrick,  who  looks 
like  his  father,  to  the  parochial  school 
down  the  hill. 

Dennis'  friends  have  found  Peggy  a 
delightful  hostess  and  one  of  the  gayest 
additions  to  any  party. 

"How  did  you  ever  find  her?"  they 
ask  Dennis. 

"Just  the  luck  of  the  Irish,"  he  tells 
them. 

For  their  anniversary  he  gave  her  a 
pair  of  earrings  shaped  like  shamrocks 
and  set  with  pearls. 

"I'm  a  lucky  guy,"  he  told  her,  "but 
you're  lucky  too." 

"It's  lucky  I  am,  it  is,"  said  Mrs.  Mc- 
Nulty who's  picking  up  a  brogue.  "If  it 
weren't  for  you,  you  know,  I  might  be 
a  successful  career  girl.  Instead  I'm  giv- 
ing the  best  years  of  my  life  to  a  hus- 
band, a  baby  and  a  house.  Lucky,  is  it?" 

But  if  you'd  been  watching  her  when 
she  said  this,  you'd  have  noticed  that 
sne  was  touching  wood. 


My  Husband,  Mr.  Keen 

(Continued  from  page  63) 

long  ago  there  was  a  letter  from  the 
Middle  West  which  enclosed,  carefully- 
wrapped  in  waxed  paper,  twenty-five 

four-leaf   clovers,   and   one   five-leaf 

"to  bring  you  continued  good  luck,  dear 
Mr.  Keen,  in  tracing  lost  persons  and 
bringing  murderers  to  the  bar  of  ius- 
tice." 

Listeners  often  wonder  what  Mr. 
Keen  looks  like.  Like,  of  course, 
Bennett  Kilpack!  His  dark  brown  hair 
is  silvering  ever  so  slightly— and  very 
becomingly,  I  think— at  the  temples, 
and  his  warm  and  interested  eyes  are 
brown,  too.  His  dignity  is  such  that,  a 
generation  or  two  ago,  I  would  most 
assuredly  have  addressed  him  respect- 
fully as  "Mr.  Kilpack"  throughout  our 
married  life! 

Back  to  the  parallel  lives  of  Mr.  Keen 
and  Mr.  Kilpack,  my  husband  has  an 
extensive  library  of  books  on  crime 
and  punishment,  ballistics,  poisons,  and 
the  like,  which  he  enjoys  hugely.  He 
reads  everything  Agatha  Christie 
writes.  He  is  a  cryptogram  fan  (I  am 
content  with  the  lowlier  and  less  com- 
plicated crossword  puzzle,  myself)  and 
delights  in  pre-Revolutionary  houses, 
preferably  those  equipped  with  sliding 
panels,  secret  stairways  and  a  good 
substantial  ghost. 

THE  small,  simple,  homely  things 
are  his  dearest  pleasures — his  home, 
his  food,  his  vegetable  garden,  his  game 
of  golf,  his  fields  and  streams  to  wander 
over,  a  warm  sun  to  lie  beneath.  Like 
most  Englishmen,  my  husband  is  a 
reticent  man — there  are  questions  you 
do  not  ask  him.  For  example,  the  tiny 
fuzzy  dog  that  stands,  and  has  stood  for 
years,  on  his  desk.  I  don't  know  when 
or  where  he  got  it,  or  what  special  sig- 
nificance it  has,  but  only  that  it  is  his 
"good  luck"  piece,  that  if  he  lost  it  that 
would  be  a  great  misfortune,  that  to 
question  him  about  it  would  be  an  in- 
vasion of  privacy. 

Acting  was  Bennett's  choice  of  pro- 
fession from  earliest  memory  on.  A 
minister's  son,  one  of  seven  youngsters 
in  the  roomy  old  country  parsonage  in 
England,  his  earliest  memories  are  of 
the  amateur  plays  at  school  in  which  he 
always — and  ardently — took  part. 

That  Bennett,  the  would-be  actor, 
graduated  from  Finsbury  Technical 
College  as  an  electrical  engineer  was  "a 
detour  made,"  as  he  explains  it,  "in 
deference  to  my  father,  who  gave  me 
to  understand  that  a  Kilpack  as  an 
actor  was  a  Kilpack  better  dead!" 

Directly  after  Finsbury,  Bennett 
came  to  the  United  States.  Engineers 
being,  at  that  time,  a  drug  on  the  mar- 
ket, he  was  almost  forced  into  the 
theater. 

Bennett  played  "Afife"  in  Otis  Skin- 
ner's "Kismet,"  on  Broadway,  but  his 
happiest  engagement  in  those  years  was 
— loving  Shakespeare  as  he  does — the 
tour  he  made  with  Sir  Ben  Greet's 
Shakespearean  players. 

It  was  twelve  years  ago  that  I  met 
Bennett  at — of  all  unlikely  places  in  the 
world  to  meet  him — a  cocktail  party. 

He  was  there  only,  as  he  later  ex- 
plained, because  he  had  refused  invita- 
tions from  this  hostess  twice  before 
"The  common  cocktail  party,"  he  con- 
tends, "is  more  depleting  than  the  com- 
mon cold."  But  he  came  to  this  one 

When  we  were  introduced  (this  is 
going  to  sound  like  a  radio  script  of  the 
strictly  non-Mr.  Keen  variety,  I'm 
afraid!)  I  was  attracted  to  him  at  once 


ARE  YOU,  TOO,  KU/N/N&  YOUR 
MARR/EP  HAPPINESS 


If  only  you'd  learn  these 


^ 


Have  you  noticed  that  nice  hus- 
band of  yours  staying  out  more 
often  with  the  boys?  Or,  if  he 
does  remain  at  home,  do  you  notice  an 
indifference — almost  a  resentment  on 
his  part?  Now  'fess  up!  Didn't  it  ever 
occur  to  you  that  the  wife  herself  is 
often  the  guilty  one? 

If  only  young  wives  would  realize 
how  necessary  vaginal  douching  often 
is  to  intimate  feminine  cleanliness, 
health,  charm  and  married  happiness  — 
to  combat  offensive  vaginal  odor.  If 
only  wives  would  learn  why  they  should 
always  use  ZONIte  in  their  douche ! 

No  other  type  liquid  antiseptic -germicide 

tested  is  SO  POWERFUL  yet  SO  HARMLESS 

Scientists  tested  every  known  antisep- 
tic-germicide they  could  find  on  sale  for 
the  douche.  And  no  other  type  proved 
so  POWERFUL  yet  so  safe  to  delicate 
tissues  as  zonite.  So  why  continue  to 


INTIMATE  PHYSICAL 
FACTS 


use  weak  or  dangerous  products?  zonite 
is  truly  a  miracle !  The  first  non-poisonous 
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can  use  zonite  as  directed  as  often  as 
needed  without  the  slightest  risk  of 
injury. 

Zonite's  Miracle-Action 

ZONITE  destroys  and  removes  odor- 
causing  waste  substances,  leaving  you 
feeling  so  clean — so  refreshed.  Helps 
guard  against  infection.  It  immediately 
kills  every  germ  it  touches.  You  know 
it's  not  always  possible  to  contact  all 
the  germs  in  the  tract.    But  you  can 

FEEL  CONFIDENT  that   ZONITE   doeS  kill 

every  reachable  germ.  A  blessing  to 
womankind !  All  drugstores. 


91 


m^dsij 


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92 


Half  my  mind  I  devoted  to  making  the 
usual — and  boring — cocktail  party 
small  talk,  and  the  other  half  I  em- 
ployed in  asking  myself:  Married?  If 
so,  vi^here's  his  wife?  Engaged,  maybe? 
Or — not  very  likely — single? 

Being  the  conservative  member  of 
the  family,  it  was  some  months  after 
we  started  going  together  before  Ben- 
nett admitted  that  he  was,  at  the  same 
time,  wondering  the  same  things  about 
me! 

Our  hostess,  a  woman  who  believes 
in  going  to  the  heart  of  any  matter  with 
firm  purpose,  managed  to  get  us  each 
away  from  the  other  for  a  quiet  chat 
with  her  before  that  party  was  over. 

"Bennett  Kilpack  is  an  actor,"  she 
told  me,  "but  as  unlike  the  ordinary 
conception  of  the  'temperamental  art- 
ist' as  an  actor  can  be.  He's  easy-going, 
calm,  steady,  and  as  British  as  the 
House  of  Parliament.  Women  find  him 
very  interesting.  So  far  as  I  know, 
however,  he's  not  interested — "  she 
paused,  looked  at  me,  laughed  and 
added — "elsewhere." 

HAVING  carefully  documented  him 
for  me,  she  sought  out  Bennett  and 
gave  him  my  dossier.  "Dorothy  is  a 
widow,"  she  told  him.  "Her  husband 
was  killed  in  an  automobile  accident. 
She  has  a  young  son,  John,  and  they 
live  with  Dorothy's  mother  in  the  sub- 
urbs. Dorothy  is  very  musical,  has  a 
beautiful  singing  voice,  has  done  some 
ballet  work.  She  does  quite  a  bit  of 
dating,  but  so  far  as  I  know  she's 
neither  engaged  nor  in  love  " 

What  fun  Bennett  and  I  ad,  much 
later  on,  comparing  notes  on  that  dear, 
scheming  woman! 

Bennett  and  I  went  together  for  three 
years  before  we  were  married.  Of 
those  three  years,  we  were  engaged  for 
six  months.  A  little  simple  arithmetic 
will  bring  you  to  the  conclusion  that  it 
took  Bennett  some  two  and  a  half  years 
to  get  around  to  proposing. 

Everyday,  for  two  years  and  a  half, 
he  called  me  on  the  phone.  He  sent  me 
flowers.  We  went  out  together  three 
or  four  times  a  week.  He  kissed  me 
goodnight.  But  nothing  concrete — no 
"will  you?" 

When,  at  last,  he  did  propose  it  was 
simply  to  say  to  me,  very  casually, 
"How  would  you  like  to  fly  down  to 
Maryland  next  weekend  and  be  mar- 
ried?" 

I  waited  just  a  moment,  to  assure 
myself  that  he  had  really  said  what  I'd 
thought  he'd  said,  and  then  I  answered, 
"I  wouldn't."  Realizing  how  that 
sounded,  I  hastily  added,  "Wouldn't 
that  is,  like  to  fly  down  to  Maryland. 
You  see,"  I  explained,  "when  I  was 
married  the  first  time,  I  eloped.  Which 
means  that  Mother  wasn't  with  me. 
This  time — ■" 

That  was  in  February.  We  were  mar- 
ried the  following  September  in  the  lit- 
tle wedding  chapel  of  the  church  my 
mother  attended  in  Mt.  Vernon.  Mr. 
Keen  made  it  impossible  for  Bennett  to 
get  away  for  a  proper  honeymoon,  so 
instead  we  took  weekend  trips,  brows- 
ing about  New  England  in  the  car.  Two 
city-haters,  we  were,  searching  for  a 
country  house.     An  old  country  house. 

We  lived,  right  after  we  were  mar- 
ried, in  an  apartment  on  Beekman 
Place — very  attractive,  as  apartments 
go.  But  to  hear  Bennett  describe  it, 
you  misht  have  thought  it  a  prison.  "A 
city  apartment!     It  isn't  living!" 

On  one  of  those  weekends  of  ours  we 
found  our  house,  in  the  Green  Moun- 
tains of  Vermont.  It  was  of  venerable 
years — one  hundred  fifty  of  them.  There 
was  an  acre  for  every  year. 


"This  means,"  we  told  each  other  ex- 
ultantly, "that  we  can  grow  our  own 
ve'^etables,  wander  in  our  own  woods, 
fish  for  trout  in  the  spring,  really  live 
and  breathe  .  .  ." 

Much  of  the  redecorating  and  repair- 
ing we  did  ourselves. 

Bennett  took  next  to  gardening, 
planted  and  grew  most  of  what  we  ate 
in  the  way  of  fruits  and  vegetables.  I 
canned  and  preserved  and  dried  and 
pickled  the  produce,  and  did — I  still  do 
— all  my  own  cooking.  Now  and  again 
Bennett  takes  a  hand  in  that  depart- 
ment, too.  His  specialties  are  steaks, 
broiled  out  of  doors,  and  a  marvelous 
baked  ham.  The  steaks  he  soaks  in 
soy  sauce  over  night,  a  prescription 
which  would  make  the  toughest  steak 
tender  and  imparts  a  what's- that- won- 
derful-taste flavor.  His  baked  ham  is 
spiked  with  cloves,  coated  with  brown 
sugar,  baked  in  wine,  and  served  up 
with  the  most  perfect,  rich  gravy — the 
secret  of  which  he  keeps  even  from  me! 

Saturday  afternoons,  Bennett  always 
went  to  the  village  of  East  Dover 
for  the  mail,  and  to  "set  a  spell"  around 
the  cracker  barrel  in  the  combination 
post  office  and  general  store,  listening 
to  postmaster  Ted  Moody  talk  about 
the  beauties  of  Vermont  and  the  "var- 
mintage"  of  politics. 

In  the  mornings  we  were — and  are, 
still — always  up  early.  This  partly  be- 
cause of  chores  to  be  done,  partly 
because  of  Lassie,  Bennett's  beloved 
Springer  spaniel,  who  feels  it  her  duty 
to  waken  each  member  of  the  family,  at 
the  crack  of  dawn,  with  a  moisty,  lov- 
ing kiss. 

Let  me  tell  you  something  about  Ben- 
nett, that  efficient,  well-organized  man. 
Wouldn't  you  think  he'd  be  able  to  dis- 
cipline his  dog?  The  truth  of  it  is  that 
she  has  him  completely  under  her 
thumb.  Lassie  is  not  allowed  to  sleep 
on  the  living  room  chairs.  So  she 
sleeps  on  the  living  room  chairs.  Lassie 
is  not  allowed — but  need  I  go  on?  But 
she's  such  a  winsome,  charming  wench 
that  I  can't  find  it  in  me  to  make  more 
than  a  purely  routine  protest. 

FOR  two  people  who  are  as  tempera- 
mentally opposed  as  Bennett  and  I 
— he  a  regular  Gibraltar  of  slow-paced 
steadiness  and  I  quick  and  flighty — we 
get  along  remarkably  well  together.  Of 
course  there  are  differences  between  us, 
but  such  minor  ones. 

I  am,  for  examole,  reasonably  neat 
about  the  house.  Bennett  is  unreason- 
ably neat  about  the  house.  No  matter 
how  much  you  keep  the  house  "picked 
up,"  Bennett  can  alwavs  see  one  more 
thing  to  be  picked  up.  You  can't,  in  our 
house,  keep  magazines  and  newspapers 
around  for  more  than  a  week.  If  you 
want  to  keep  them  longer — and  some- 
times I  do,  for  that  recipe  I've  been 
meaning  to  copy  down,  that  article  I 
want  to  re-read — you  literally  have  to 
hide  them. 

Certain  things  I  am — a  competent 
wall-paperer,  for  instance,  handy  at 
wiring  lamps  and  repairing  blown  fuses, 
besides  the  things  that  any  normal 
housewife  counts  as  routine.  But  one 
thing  I  cannot  say  of  myself — that  I 
have  a  head  for  business.  Bennett  has. 
I  am  probably  one  of  the  few  lucky 
housewives  in'  these  United  States  who 
has  no  bills  hanging  over  her  head — no 
light  bills,  gas  bills,  telephone  bills. 
Bennett  takes  those,  and  all  others, 
over — to  my  profound  relief. 

The  conservatism  of  Bennett  I've 
spoken  of  before,  but  there  was  a  time 
when  it  failed  him.  When  we  were 
first  married,  my  hats,  on  more  than 
one  occasion,  caused  a  certain  amount 


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of  husbandly  comment.  Like:  "My 
dear,  isn't  that — er — a  little  Tnusical 
comedy?" 

I  considered  them  gay,  perhaps,  but 
not  worthy  of  rebuke — so  I  took  Ben- 
nett on  a  hat-shopping  expedition. 
"You,"  I  told  him  firmly,  "may  now 
pick  me  out  exactly  the  sort  of  hat  you 
would  like  me  to  have."    And  I  waited. 

He  poked  about  the  shop,  and  after 
a  little  he  came  back  wearing  some- 
what the  same  expression  that  Lassie 
does  when  she's  dug  up  a  really  old 
and  toothsome  bone.     "Here,"  he  said. 

I  was  afraid  to  take  the  thing  into 
my  hands,  fearing  it  might  explode.  I 
still  remember  every  detail — how  could 
I  forget?  Chartreuse  voile,  it  was,  piled 
abandonedly  on  bright  pink  straw. 

I  gave  him  a  look.  Every  wife  will 
know  what  kind  of  look  I  mean.  The 
matter  of  hats  has  not  arisen  between 
us  since  .  .  . 

But,  even  so,  that  wasn't  an  argu- 
ment. We've  never  had  one,  in  all 
these  eight  years,  and  I  doubt  that  we 
ever  will.  In  the  first  place,  how  can 
you  argue  with  a  man  who  won't  argue 
back?  Who  simply  closes  his  mouth 
and  his  ears  and  takes  his  astral  body 
elsewhere,  leaving  the  temporal  be- 
hind like  a  shell?  But  that's  not  the 
real  reason  that  we  don't  argue.  I  don't 
want  to.  What  reason  could  there  be 
to  argue  with  a  man  so  charming,  so 
pleasant,  so  genuinely  good — to  me,  to 
my  son  John,  to  everyone? 

SOON  after  we  were  married,  Bennett 
legally  adopted  John,  gave  him  his 
name.  When  my  son  first  went  away 
to  school  and  was  homesick,  I  asked 
him  if  it  was  I  he  missed.  Or  his 
friends?     The  familiar  neighborhood? 

He  shook  his  head.  "No,"  he  said. 
"Not  so  much  as  Dad."  What  better 
reference  could  you  ask  for  a  father? 

There  was  just  one  drawback  to  our 
Vermont  home — but  in  the  end,  it  was 
decisive.  The  train  time  between  it 
and  New  York  is  five  hours.  True, 
Bennett  only  went  in  once  a  week,  spent 
the  night  at  a  hotel,  and  returned  home 
by  sleeper  after  the  program  Thursday 
night. 

But  he  was  doing  too  much,  I  felt, 
from  too  far  away.  So — not  without 
considerable  searching  of  our  hearts, 
not  without  a  terribly  wrenching  pain 
of  parting — we  put  our  farm  up  for  sale. 

"Then  we  bought  our  present  home 
in  Ridgefield,  and  began  all  over  again. 
All  the  papering,  painting,  repairing  .  .  . 

The  Ridgefield  house  is  not  of  the 
vintage  of  the  farm  in  Vermont,  being 
a  mere  eighteen  years  old.  But  it  looks 
pleasantly  older,  being  made  of  white 
clapboard  with  green  trim.  Set  quite 
far  back  from  the  road,  you  come  to  it 
through  a  wooden  gate  in  an  old  stone 
wall.  There  is  a  pond  with  big  trees, 
old  trees,  behind  it.  And,  in  miniature 
— since  there  are  only  four  and  a  half 
acres — the  fields  and  woodlands  Ben- 
nett loves  so  much. 

Even  if  my  husband  were  not  an 
actor — and  how  unthinkable  that  is! — 
he  would  not,  I'm  sure,  turn  to  tracing 
lost  persons  for  his  livelihood.  An  out- 
door man  if  ever  there  was  one,  he 
says,  "When — if  ever — I  retire,  I  may 
live  in  Tahiti  and  raise  rare  orchids." 

Much  more  probably,  and  practically, 
he  would  stay  right  here  at  home  and 
do  for  a  living  what  he  now  does  for 
the  love  of  it — raise  vegetables,  use  his 
magic  green  thumb  in  the  flower  beds, 
putter  in  the  rock  gardens,  rise  up  as 
now,  at  seven-thirty  and  be  out  in  the 
garden  spraying,  cultivating,  fertiliz- 
ing. And  singing  all  the  while,  because 
he  loves  it  so! 


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When  a  Girl  Marries 

(Continued  from  page  49) 


asking  him  if  I  could  manage  his  money, 
but  I  know  that  his  family  would  not 
approve.  I  would  intensely  dislike  the 
idea  of  forgetting  him  and  yet  also  dis- 
like the  way  matters  stand.  Can  you 
find  a  solution  for  me? 

M.  S. 

Dear  M.  S.: 

What  I'm  going  to  say  to  you  about 
love  and  marriage  may  not  sound  like 
advice  with  a  firm,  scientific  basis,  but 
I  believe  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart 
that  it's  true.  It's  just  this: 

If  anything,  anything  at  all,  keeps  a 
woman  from  marrying  a  man  with 
whom  she  thinks  herself  in  love;  if 
there  is  any  smallest  doubt  in  her  mind, 
then  she  shouldn't  marry  him.  The  kind 
of  love  which  wears  well  through  all 
the  long  years  of  marriage  finds  it  own 
solution  for  problems,  or  does  not  even 
see  the  problem  as  such.  If  there  is  the 
slightest  doubt  in  your  mind,  then  you 
ought  to  face  the  possibility  that  this 
isn't  the  man  for  you. 

A  marriage  which  is  marred  by  a 
continuing  series  of  arguments  about 
money — and  believe  me,  arguments  on 
the  subject  can  become  both  sordid  and 
acrimonious — is  no  marriage  at  all.  It 
sounds  to  me,  from  your  letter,  as  if 
your  attitude  toward  money  and  your 
young  man's  are  so  many  miles  apart 
that  there  would  never  be  a  meeting 
ground  for  them. 

Joan  Davis 

FIRST  WIFE 

Dear  Joan  Davis: 

My  husband's  first  wife  (still  un- 
married) and  his  two  teen-age  children 
have  moved  into  the  same  block  where 
we  live  and  work.  This  former  wife 
urges  the  children  to  do  and  say  things 
which  greatly  hurt  and  annoy  me.  My 
husband  can  see  no  wrong  in  them  and 
says  he  cannot  understand  why  living 
in  such  proximity  should  upset  me. 

How  can  I  meet  and  overcome  this 
problem  which,  to  me,  is  beyond  solving 
and  which  is  endangering  our  marriage? 

R.   C. 

Dear  R.  C: 

If  you  are  allowing  this  to  endanger 
your  marriage,  I  think  you  are  very 
foolish  indeed. 

Look  at  it  this  way — perhaps  a  cold- 
blooded way,  but  certainly  true  from 
your  point  of  view  as  well  as  from  the 


first  wife's.  You  have  every  advantage. 
You  have  the  man;  she  lost  him.  You 
are  married;  she  is  not.  Here  is  a  great 
opportunity  for  you  to  be  magnanimous, 
to  display  the  true  Christian  spirit,  to 
be  compassionate. 

I  agree  that  the  situation  is  not  the 
pleasantest  possible  one,  but  it  exists. 
As  long  as  it  does,  believe  me,  it  is  the 
other  woman  who  is  in  the  unhappy 
position,  not  you.  I  think  it's  time  for 
you  to  revise  your  values  a  bit.  Think 
of  the  situation  as  one  which,  if  not  too 
pleasant  for  the  first  wife,  certainly 
should  not  bother  you,  and  which  is 
pleasant  for  your  husband,  for  he  can 
see  his  children  often. 

Joan  Davis 

A  FATHER'S  OBSESSION 

Dear  Joan  Davis: 

I  have  always  considered  my  mar- 
riage a  real  success,  but  unless  there 
is  a  change  I'm  afraid  it  won't  be  long. 

My  husband  is  a  wonderful  husband 
and  father,  except  for  one  obsession — 
music.  He  comes  from  people  of  com- 
fortable circumstances  who  lost  most 
of  their  money,  while  he  was  quite 
young.  Therefore,  he  had  to  give  up  his 
musical  training.  Now  he  has  engaged  a 
high-priced  violin  teacher  for  our 
young  son,  while  I  really  have  to  skimp 
to  clothe  the  child  properly. 

He  is  making  a  nervous,  high-strung 
child  out  of  a  sweet,  normal  little  boy. 
The  child  is  not  allowed  to  play  ball, 
die  with  shovels,  help  build  "hide-outs" 
with  the  other  boys,  for  fear  he  might 
injure  his  hands.  My  husband  makes 
him  practice  for  hours. 

How  can  I  make  my  husband  see  his 
mistake? 

G.B. 
Dear  G.  B.: 

The  most  important  thing  for  a  child 
to  be  is  just  that: — a  child.  To  be  sure 
there  are  children  who  are  musical 
prodigies,  whose  greatest  enjoyment  is 
in  their  talent.  They,  I  think,  should 
be  encouraged.  But  a  child  who  hates 
his  violin,  and  who  is  forced  to  spend 
hours  practicing  it;  a  child  who  wants 
to  enjoy  the  rough-and-tumble  fun  that 
is  part  of  every  boy's  life,  but  is  not 
allowed  to  do  so,  could  well  grow  into 
a  warped,  unhappy  adult. 

First,  I  think  you  must  encourage  the 
boy  to  express  his  feelings  before  his 
father— let  his  father  know  how  he  feels 
about   music   and   practicing   and   that 


the  life  of  a 

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violin  he  dislikes  so  much.  And  you 
must  have  a  serious  talk  with  your 
husband,  pointing  out  to  him  all  of  the 
things  you  have  said  to  me  in  this 
letter.  If  neither  of  these  things  help 
the  situation — and,  if  it's  as  bad  as  you 
make  it  sound  I'm  rather  afraid  they 
won't,  I  suggest  you  seek  competent, 
trained  assistance.  Consult  the  pastor  of 
your  church,  or  your  family  doctor, 
who,  if  they  do  not  feel  able  to  assist 
you,  will  be  able  to  direct  you  to  more 
skilled  professional  advice.  Yours  is  a 
large  city,  where  I  am  sure  such  advice 
can  be  had — free,  if  necessary.  This  is 
a  psychological  problem  and  should  be 
treated  as  such,  by  someone  trained  to 
do  so.  I  believe  your  minister  or  your 
doctor,  if  they  fail  to  help  you  them- 
selves, can  direct  you  to  that  necessary 
"someone." 

Joan  Davis 

GO  TO  THE  SOURCE! 

Dear  Joan  Davis: 

I  have  been  going  with  a  girl  now  for 
several  months  and  am  thinking  of 
marrying  her.  However,  a  trusted 
friend,  who  says  he  knew  this  girl  in 
another  city,  tells  me  that  she  has  been 
married  before  and  collected  a  large 
sum  of  money  from  her  ex-husband 
when  they  divorced.  She  has  told  me 
nothing  of  this.  What  should  I  do? 

C.  W. 

Dear  C.  W.: 

Do  the  simplest  thing  in  the  world, 
my  friend — ask  her!  Gossip,  however 
well-meaning,  is  unreliable.  For  correct 
information,  always  go  to  the  source. 

You  say  you  "are  thinking  of  marry- 
ing her."  Thinking  of  asking  her  to 
marry  you,  I  suppose  you  mean.  Per- 
haps your  proposal  might  also  bring 
you  your  answer.  A  woman  very  often 
does  not  want  to  bring  into  the  open 
to  a  mere  friend,  no  matter  how  close, 
a  story  which  may  carry  with  it  some 
very  unpleasant  memories  for  her. 
However,  to  a  man  whom  she  is  going 
to  marry  she  certainly  would  feel  much 
more  willing  to  tell  such  a  story. 

And  I  think  you  might  decide  in  your 
own  mind  exactly  how  you  will  feel 
toward  the  girl  if  the  story  proves  to 
be  true.  And  how  you  would  feel 
toward  this  "large  sum  of  money" 
which  was,  in  all  probability,  a  settle- 
ment in  lieu  of  alimony — that  is,  a  lump 
sum  for  her  support,  rather  than  a 
monthly  alimony  payment.  But  by  all 
means  don't  pre-judge  her.  In  the  first 
place,  you  have  no  right  to  do  so,  and 
I'm  afraid  if  you're  prone  to  make  such 
judgments,  without  facts  upon  which 
to  base  them,  you're  hardly  adult 
enough,  no  matter  what  your  age,  to 
be  considering  marriage. 

Joan  Davis 

THE  PARENTS  COME  FIRST 

Dear  Joan  Davis: 

My  husband  and  I  have  been  married 
for  five  years,  and  we  don't  have  any 
children.  We  have  taken  my  husband's 
half-brother  to  live  with  us  for  a  while. 

His  mother  has  tuberculosis,  but  she 
isn't  in  a  hospital.  We  have  gotten  so 
attached  to  the  boy  I  just  can't  think 
of  his  going  back  to  his  own  home.  We 
can  give  him  more  than  his  own  father 
and  mother  can,  but  when  school  is  out 
they  want  him  to  come  back  home. 

Do  you  know  any  way  we  could  talk 
his  parents  into  letting  him  stay?  We 
live  in  the  country  and  they  live  in  a 
large  city. 

Mrs.  B.  G. 


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Dear  Mrs.  B.  G.: 

I  think  that  there  is  only  one  basis 
upon  which  you  can — or  have  any  right 
to — "talk  his  parents  into  letting  him 
stay."  That  is  the  basis  of  health.  If 
his  mother's  tuberculosis  is  active, 
being  with  her  might  endanger  the 
boy's  health.  This,  however,  is  some- 
thing which  I,  of  course,  am  in  no 
position  to  judge,  and  neither  are  you. 
A  physician's  opinion  is  needed. 

If  the  mother's  case  is  arrested,  and 
being  with  her  would  not  menace  the 
child's  health,  then  I  feel  that  I  must 
side  with  the  parents  of  the  boy.  Be- 
lieve me,  I  sympathize  with  you — I 
realize  how  hard  it  would  be  to  give 
up  a  child  whom  you've  learned  to  love 
as  your  own.  But  a  child  does  belong 
with  his  own  parents,  and  those  parents 
have  a  right  to  have  him  with  them  if 
at  all  possible.  Try  to  see  their  side 
of  it- — try  to  put  yourself  in  their  place. 

If  the  boy  does  go  back  to  his  parents, 
why  don't  you  and  your  husband  con- 
sider adopting  a  child?  I  know  that  it 
is  very  hard  to  get  a  small  baby  for 
adoption,  but  in  many  states  children 
past  the  age  of  three  or  four  can  be  had 
quite  easily,  if  you  qualify  as  proper 
parents.  It  would  be  a  kind  and  won- 
derful thing  for  you  to  give  a  homeless 
little  boy  the  love  and  care  which  you 
both  seem  to  be  able  to  lavish  on  a 
child.  Why  don't  you  think  about  it? 

Joan  Davis 

TALK  IT  OVER! 

Dear  Joan  Davis: 

I  have  the  kind  of  husband  most 
women  wish  they  had — kind,  con- 
siderate, intelligent  and  affectionate.  We 
have  been  married  for  seven  years  and 
have  a  three-year-old  son — and  he  is 
the  source  of  my  problem. 

My  husband  is  going  to  college  under 
the  GI  Bill,  and  has  another  year  and  a 
half  to  go.  Our  allowance  from  the 
government  isn't  enough  to  keep  us  and 
so  I  worked  for  nearly  two  years  while 
he  attended  school  at  night  and  took 
care  of  the  baby  during  the  day. 

Last  week  I  quit  my  job  because  I 
feel  the  baby  needs  me.  He  is  at  the 
age  where  he  is  demanding  the  atten- 
tion that  his  father  is  too  busy  to  give 
him.  Not  only  that,  but  it's  very  dis- 
couraging to  come  home  at  night  to  find 
the  sink  full  of  dirty  dishes  and  all  the 
rest  of  the  housework  besides. 

Am  I  being  selfish  to  want  to  spend 
my  time  with  my  baby  and  my  home? 
Sometimes  my  husband  makes  me  feel 
as  though  I  have  done  wrong  because  he 
didn't  approve  exactly  of  my  quitting 


my  job.  I  feel  the  time  he  spent  at 
home  caring  for  the  baby  can  be  spent 
working  at  a  part-time  job.  To  whom 
am  I  being  unfair — my  husband  or  my 
baby? 

Betty  M. 

Dear  Betty  M: 

I  don't  believe  you're  being  unfair  to 
anyone — not  so  much  unfair  as  un- 
thinking. Please  believe  me  when  I  say 
this — and  I  wish  I  could  cry  it  from  the 
rooftops  so  that  every  young  married 
couple  in  the  whole  world  could  hear 
me!  There  are  very  few  problems,  big 
or  small,  in  a  marriage  which  can't  be 
settled  satisfactorily  ij  they're  brought 
out  into  the  open  and  talked  over! 

I  think  that  instead  of  simply  quitting 
your  job,  you  should  have  discussed  the 
matter  with  your  husband  first,  and 
told  him  that  you  felt  that  you  should 
stop  working.  As  it's  too  late  for  that 
now,  for  goodness  sake  sit  down  right 
away  and  bring  all  the  rest  of  it  out 
into  open  meeting. 

Every  marriage  needs  a  budget  of 
some  sort,  and  yours  looks  as  if  it  might 
profit  by  a  time-and-effort  budget. 

Can  your  husband  afford,  from  the 
point  of  view  of  his  time  and  his  health 
and  his  studies,  to  take  a  part-time  job? 
Can  you  perhaps  find  another  young 
mother  near  you  who  needs  a  little 
extra  money  and  who  would  be  willing 
to  take  over  the  care  of  your  little  boy 
— someone  responsible,  and  whom  you 
like  and  trust— so  that  you  can  return 
to  work?  If  so,  will  what  you  have  to 
pay  her  be  justified  by  the  salary  you 
can  make  working?  If  you  do  make  this 
arrangement,  will  your  husband  be 
willing  to  share-and-share-alike  with 
you  the  household  duties?  Is  there 
something  which  you  can  do  at  home 
which  will  help  out  the  family  income 
and  still  leave  you  time  to  devote  to 
your  baby?  (There's  always  a  great 
demand  for  typists  on  a  college  campus, 
for  instance.)  Or  can  you  find  some 
part-time  work  yourself? 

Talk  it  over.  Budget  your  time.  See 
how  you  can  divide  the  tasks,  the 
child's  care,  and  the  necessary  earning 
to  augment  your  government  allowance 
between  you.  And  remember,  the  year 
and  a  half  until  your  husband  is  gradu- 
ated may  seem  like  forever,  but  it  will 
pass  quickly.  Remember,  too,  that  any- 
thing worth  having  is  worth  working 
for,  worth  making  sacrifices  for.  Your 
husband's  education,  which  will  make 
it  possible  for  him  to  give  you  and  your 
son  a  better  way  of  life,  is  certainly  one 
of  those  things  that  is  worth  having! 

Joan  Davis 


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Coast  to  Coast  in 
Television 

(.Continued  from  page  55) 

are  for  the  young  in  heart  of  all  ages, 
it's  the  young  in  heart  and  in  stature 
who  should  have  first  lien  on  the  clowns 
and  tumblers  and  monkey  acts  and  cir- 
cus bands  and  all  the  rest  of  the  joys 
of  the  sawdust  ring. 

^  #  ^ 

Bill  Marceau  is  one  of  television's 
first  and  busiest  directors,  with  Du- 
Mont's  Morning  Chapel,  Television 
Shopper  and  Fashion  Revue. 

Bill  was  born  in  Butte,  Montana,  and 
grew  up  in  western  mining  towns. 
When  he  finished  school  he  donned  a 
miner's  cap,  but  a  little  more  experi- 
ence of  the  world  convinced  him  there 
were  easier  ways  to  make  a  living. 

He  decided  he'd  be  an  actor,  and  his 
first  jobs  were  in  burlesque,  combining 
acting  with  scene-shifting,  directing, 
and  the  hundred  and  one  chores  of  a 
small  theatrical  outfit.  This  led .  to 
organizing  a  repertory  company  of  his 
own,  after  a  little  experience  in  stock. 
He  finally  landed  on  Broadway  and, 
like  all  good  actors,  he  landed  at  last  in 
Hollywood.  There  he  doubled  in  brass 
a  good  part  of  the  time  by  acting  at 
one  studio  during  the  day  and  working 
in  the  special  effects  department  of 
another  studio  at  night,  catching  forty 
winks  if,  as  and  when  he  could.  Going 
without  sleep  seemed  easier  than  going 
without  meals,  and  it  took  two  pay- 
checks to  furnish  enough  of  them. 

As  he  looks  back  now  and  compares 
his  job  in  television  with  his  job  as  a 
miner,  he's  not  so  sure  that  mining 
wasn't  the  easier  way  to  make  a  living, 
after  all.  At  least,  he  thinks  so  on  the 
days  a  TV  camera  blacks  out  suddenly 
or  a  player  fluffs  his  lines. 

But  on  any  other  day  he  wouldn't 
change  jobs  with  anyone — unless  it's  a 
fellow  that  has  a  bigger  spot  in  video! 

Films  for  television  have  staunch 
support  from  one  quarter  where  you 
might  least  expect  it— from  that  vet- 
eran of  radio  and  pioneer  on  TV, 
Dwight  Weist,  former  emcee  of  We, 
the  People. 

Weist  helped  make  TV  history  last 
year  when  We,  the  People  became  the 
first  regular  radio  program  to  be  air- 
borne simultaneously  for  television. 
Several  months  after  that  he  gave  up 
the  emcee  job  to  work  on  some  tele- 
visual ideas,  all  of  them  connected  with 
filming. 

You'll  be  seeing  the  first  of  these  any 
day  now,  if  indeed  you  haven't  already. 
They're  being  sold  regionally,  so  it 
all  depends  on  the  part  of  the  country 
where  you  live.  One  is  a  15-minute 
Feature  Story,  in  which  Weist  plays  a 
reporter,  which  of  course  he  is,  who 
takes  the  televiewer  all  over  these 
United  States  to  see  for  himself  what 
amusing,  what  serious,  what  educa- 
tional and  what  stimulating  things  his 
fellow-citizens  are  doing. 

The  second  Weist  series  is  called 
What's  New,  and  tells  all  about  the 
newest  gadgets  and  gimmicks.  The  third 
series  is  called  Where  Is  It? — a  sort  of 
quiz  game  for  home  viewers  in  which 
American  landmarks  are  to  be  identi- 
fied and  correctly  placed,  with  prizes 
for  the  right  answers. 

*  *  * 

Check  DuMont's  A  Woman  to  Re- 
member. It  shows  how  different  the 
TV  approach  to  the  daytime  drama  is 
going  to  be  from  the  radio  approach. 


They're   NEW  and  they're  NEWS! 


PANTIES 


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But  Is  It  Talent? 

(Continued  from  page  41) 


heart — just  from  hearing  them  at  audi- 
tions. What  amateur  actors  don't  seem 
to  understand  is  that  characters  in  radio 
programs  '  talk  like  people — ordinary 
people — not  tragedians  out  of  a  dra- 
matic play." 

Out  of  those  auditions,  though,  have 
come  the  nucleus  of  the  working  actors 
of  radio,  and  one  of  Marge's  favorite 
pastimes  is  telling  the  success  stories  of 
the  people  she  "knew  when." 

One  of  her  success  stories  wandered 
into  her  office  the  other  day.  It  was 
Macdonald  Carey,  in  from  the  Coast 
for  a  series  of  personal  appearances.  He 
has  become  a  Hollywood  star  now,  but 
whenever  he  comes  to  New  York  he 
makes  it  a  point  to  see  Marge,  because 
he  says  it  was  she  who  helped  him  when 
he   was   just   another   unknown   actor. 

Dane  Clark  is  another  Hollywood 
movie  actor  who  got  his  start  with 
Marge's  help. 

And  Charles  Korvin,  whom  you've 
seen  recently  in  "Berlin  Express,"  was 
once  a  radio  actor. 

BUT  her  particular  pets  are  the  actors 
and  actresses  who  have  stuck  to 
radio  through  thick  and  thin. 

Eddie  Jerome,  for  instance.  A  tall, 
grey-haired,  distinguished  looking  man, 
he  started  out  in  life  with  a  burning 
desire  to  be  an  opera  singer.  After 
years  of  scrimping  and  struggling,  he 
managed  to  get  to  Europe,  where  he 
studied  singing.  Which  would  have 
been  all  right,  except  that  his  music 
teacher  worked  him  so  hard  he  strained 
his  voice  and  lost  it  completely.  It 
returned,  though,  and  millions  of  people 
have  heard  him  in  such  programs  as 
Backstage  Wife,  Wendy  Warren  and 
the  News,  Gang  Busters,  Cavalcade  of 
America,  Columbia  Workshop,  and 
When  a  Girl  Marries. 

And  Kenny  Delmar,  who  immortal- 
ized the  character  "Senator  Claghorn" 
on  the  Fred  Allen  show.  Kenny  looks 
young,  but  his  professional  record  goes 
back  a  long  way.  Before  he  was  the 
garrumphing  Senator  on  the  Allen  pro- 
gram, Kenny  had  played  big  and  little 
parts  on  almost  every   show  in  radio. 

Some  actors.  Marge  will  tell  you, 
have  special  talents  which  have  helped 
them  reach  the  top.  Miriam  Wolfe,  a 
regular  member  of  Let's  Pretend  cast, 
for  instance,  attributes  her  success  to 
her  remarkable  voice  range.  She  can 
play  anything  from  five-year-old  chil- 
dren to  doddering  old  crones.  She 
started  her  career  at  the  ripe  age  of 
four,  and  when  she  was  twelve  amazed 
the  whole  staff  of  the  radio  program, 
The  Witch's  Tale.  It  seems  that  the 
elderly  actress  who  originally  played 
the  cracky-voiced  witch  on  the  program 
died,  and  it  was  necessary  to  find  some- 
one else  to  play  the  part.  Miriam  ap- 
peared at  the  auditions— her  hair  in 
long  curls  and  wearing  a  childish  sailor 
hat  with  long  ribbons.  The  director 
thought  it  was  all  very  funny,  but  when 
Miriam  hunched  her  shoulders  and  be- 
gan to  read  the  witch's  lines  in  the 
high  pitched  brittle  tones  of  a  wicked 
old  woman  and  finished  it  off  with  a 
horrible  cackling  laugh,  the  director 
made  up  his  mind  immediately  that 
he'd  found  the  right  actress. 

But  that's  the  lighter  side  of  life 
along  Radio  Row.  There  is  a  dark  side, 
too,  and  much  as  it  distresses  Marge 
Morrow,  she  feels  that  the  facts  should 
be  known.  She  tells  you  that  there  are 
some   3500    radio   actors   listed   in   the 


files  of  the  American  Federation  of 
Radio  Actors,  the  actors'  union.  Of  those 
3500,  less  than  500  are  employed  regu- 
larly. The  rest  of  them  don't  even  aver- 
age $20  a  week. 

She  agrees  that  it  all  sounds  pretty 
discouraging,  and  says,  "I'm  just  trying 
to  counterbalance  some  of  those  spec- 
tacular success  stories  you  read  every 
so  often." 

So  many  people  have  asked  Marge 
Morrow's  advice  about  how  to  get  into 
radio  that  she  has  worked  out  her  own 
list  of  "dos"  and  "don'ts"  for  would-be 
radio  actors.  If  by  any  remote  chance, 
you  have  ever  harbored  any  ideas  of 
wanting  to  be  a  radio  actor,  maybe 
you'd  be  interested  in  that  list. 

1.  First,  you  must  he  an  actor.  And 
that  means  professional  training. 

2.  It  is  true  that  you  must  be  able  to 
read  a  script  intelligently  and  well. 
But  you  also  have  to  live  it. 

.3.  Remember,  in  radio  you  don't  have 
scenery;  you  don't  have  costumes;  you 
don't  have  gestures;  and  you  don't 
have  facial  expressions.  All  you  have  is 
your  voice.  By  your  voice  alone  you 
must  be  able  to  create  for  the  radio 
audience  all  those  other  things.  With 
just  that  one  tool  you  must  make  people 
"see"  what  you  look  like,  what  you're 
doing,  where  you  are,  and  how  you  feel. 

4.  Don't  take  the  first  train  to  New 
York,  Hollywood,  or  Chicago.  It's  true 
that  those  cities  are  the  centers  of  the 
radio  business.  They  use  the  most 
actors.  But  they  already  have  the  most 
actors — experienced  ones! 

5.  Take  a  good  look  at  your  own  home 
town — or  at  the  largest  one  near  you — 
for  chances  at  acting  experience.  Small 
radio  stations  may  not  pay  fancy 
salaries,  but  where  else  can  you  learn 
the  whole  set-up  of  radio,  from  acting 
through  production? 

6.  Read  everything  you  can  lay  your 
hands  on.  And  pay  particular  atten- 
tion to  plays,  newspapers,  feature 
columns,  magazines,  books  and  articles 
on  the  entertainment  field.  See  as  many 
movies  as  you  can  stand — or  afford. 
And  when  you  sit  in  a  movie,  try  not 
to  be  carried  away  by  the  plot  or  the 
beauty  of  the  heroine.  Study  the  act- 
ing techniques,  see  if  you  can  figure  out 
why  the  director  wanted  it  done  the 
way  it  was,  watch  the  camera  shots, 
listen  carefully  to  the  dialogue,  keep  an 
eye  on  any  special  devices. 

7.  When  your  relatives  or  friends  or 
teachers  tell  you  how  wonderful  you 
are  and  how  you  ought  to  be  in  movies 
or  on  the  radio,  thank  them  graciously, 
but  try  not  to  believe  everything  they 
say! 

8.  Never  forget — in  places  like  New 
York  and  Hollywood,  it's  hard  to  find 
a  place  to  live — even  a  room  at  a  Y. 
And  if  you  do  find  a  place,  it's  likely 
to  cost  you  a  small  forttine. 

9.  You  must  have  enough  money  to 
last  you  for  at  least  a  year  if  you  insist 
on  hitting  the  big  town.  Some  people 
do  manage  to  get  part-time  jobs  and 
still  make  the  rounds  of  the  casting 
offices.  But  it's  pretty  hard.  You  can't 
work  all  day  ■  and  make  the  rounds  all 
night  or  vice  versa  without  breaking 
down  sooner  or  later. 

10.  These  are  hints.  They  are  not  sub- 
stitutes for  hard  training  and  profes- 
sional experience.  But  when  you  do 
break  into  radio,  they  may  help  you  to 
understand  what's  going  on  and  what 
the  other  people  are  talking  about. 

.  .  .  And  good  luck  to  you! 


Are  You  Quiz-Wise? 

(Continued  froTn  page  27) 

a  mink  coat.  M.C.s  prefer  women 
dressed  tastefully  and  sedately  except 
for  one  touch  that  shows  some  flair  for 
originality.  They  believe  that  a  woman 
who  does  something  unusual  with  a 
ribbon  or  bright  feather  on  a  hat  will 
show  some  imagination. 

Beauty:  Of  no  importance,  if  anything 
a  handicap.  The  average  woman,  from 
thirty  to  sixty,  has  proven  to  have  bet- 
ter personality  development  than  her 
more  glamorous  sister. 

Personality:  As  a  whole,  producers 
are  allergic  to  the  smart  aleck  or  life- 
of-the-party  who  wants  to  take  over 
the  show  and  quiz  the  m.c.  People  who 
are  modest  most  quickly  win  the  sym- 
pathy of  the  audience.  Nice  people  who 
are  genial  and  jovial  are  preferred.  A 
hearty  laugh  is  an  asset  because  every- 
one— even  the  announcer — is  nervous 
during  air  time  and  they'd  rather  have 
a  laugh  than  a  whimper. 

Special  Tricks:  Did  you  ever  think  of 
winning  the  m.c.'s  favor  by  bringing 
a  home-baked  cake  or  writing  a  poem 
about  him?     Well,  don't. 

THE  questions  asked  during  the  warm- 
up  have  a  great  bearing  on  whether 
or  not  you  become  a  contestant.  If 
you  are  visiting  or  living  temporarily 
in  New  York,  then  give  your  home 
town.  A  native  of  Kansas  City  hias  a 
better  chance  of  being  chosen  out  of  a 
predominantly  New  York  audience  but 
don't  try  to  fool  the  announcers.  They 
are  voice  experts;  after  listening  to  any- 
one for  thirty  seconds  an  experienced 
announcer  can  tell  the  exact  region  of 
the  country  the  speaker  comes  from. 
Next  you'll  be  asked  what  you're  do- 
ing in  the  city.  A  honeymooning  couple 
or  a  seventy-year-old  bachelor  looking 
for  a  bride  are  almost  sure  bets,  but 
these  people  are  the  exception.  If  you're 
a  housewife  or  bank  teller  or  clerk, 
don't  feel  drab.  Talk  about  yourself. 
There  is  something  in  everyone's  life, 
however  routine  it  seems,  that  may  be 
of  interest  to  others. 

The  so-called  professional  contestant 
is  a  person  who  thinks  every  quiz  show 
is  his  personal  rainbow.  In  pure  Brook- 
lynese  he  or  she  may  claim  to  be  from 
Georgia,  profess  to  be  a  pearl  diver  and 
act  too,  too  cute.  Nearly  all  of  the  pros 
are  now  well-known  to  m.c.s  and  have 
very  little  chance  of  getting  on  the  air. 
Actually,  if  they  do,  they  are  no  better 
prepared  to  answer  questions  than  you. 
Pros  merely  hope  that  if  they  get  on  the 
air  often  enough,  the  law  of  averages 
will  earn  sufficient  loot  for  them. 

"If  I  just  had  a  hint  of  what  to  study 
before  I  got  on  a  program,"  a  woman 
will  say  earnestly.  "There  must  be 
some  system  to  the  choice  of  questions." 

There  is  a  method  in  the  choice  and 
framing  of  questions  but  every  m.c. 
thinks  it  would  be  a  waste  of  time  for  a 
potential  contestant  to  try  to  prepare. 
Yet  there  is  the  exception  to  every  rule. 
A  middle-aged  couple  who  appeared  on 
Give  and  Take  were  upset  when  they 
couldn't  answer  queries  they  considered 
simple.  The  man  and  wife  went  back 
to  their  home  in  New  Jersey  and  spent 
many  months  studying  an  encyclopedia. 
Later,  when  they  appeared  on  the  show 
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how  many  sacks  of  tea  were  thrown 
overboard  at  the  Boston  Tea  Party,  they 
not  only  gave  the  exact  number  but  the 
name  of  the  ship  and  captain,  the  exact 
date  and  grade  of  tea. 

Actually,  very  few  questions  are  his- 


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have  lovely  skin 

You  don't  need  perfect  features  to  be 
beautiful  ...  a  smooth,  soft,  glowing  skin 
adds  charm  and  warmth  to  any  personality. 
Let  Stillman's  Freckle  Cream  do  for  you 
what  it  has  done  for  countless  other  girls 
...  its  gentle  bleaching  action  beautifies 
and  softens  the  skin,  giving  it  a  youthful 
appearance.  Economically  priced.  On  sale 
wherever  toiletries  are  sold.  Write  today  to 
The  Stillman  Co.,  Box  15,  Aurora,  Illinois, 
for  "The  Joy  of  New  Personal  Charm." 


torical.  Well  over  fifty  per  cent  are 
based  on  incidental  information. 

A  typical  incidental-type  questions 
might  be:  "Water  containing  salt  takes 
longer — or  less — time  to  reach  the  boil- 
ing point?" 

A  topical-type:  "What  famous  living 
World  War  II  general  has  never  re- 
turned to  the  United  States?" 

About  ten  to  fifteen  percent  are 
framed  on  personalities  in  radio,  stage 
and  screen.  For  example,  "What  fa- 
mous comedian  has  a  lisp?" 

The  trick  questions,  which  test  a  per- 
son's ingenuity,  sometimes  cause  con- 
sternation. You  just  take  your  chances. 
On  the  other  hand  are  the  big  jackpot 
questions:  the  mystery  melodies,  the 
secret  sounds,  the  Miss  Hushes,  the  hid- 
den sentences.  To  crack  these  enigmas 
requires  the  brains  of  an  atomic  scien- 
tist, the  knowledge  of  a  bookworm  and 
the  audacity  of  a  safe-cracker.  They 
are  purposely  made  difficult  to  create 
national  interest  and  it's  rare  that  any- 
one except  the  producer  and  m.c.  knows 
the  correct  answer  for  the  first  couple 
of  weeks.  So  don't  feel  inferior  if  you 
can't  solve  the  big  question.  Get  the 
answer  from  a  newspaper  columnist  or 
radio  commentator.  Most  radio  produ- 
cers privately  agree  that  ninety-nine 
percent  of  the  people  who  crack  the 
jackpot  get  the  answer  that  way. 

"Now  don't  get  nervous  when  you  get 
up  there,"  your  husband  is  bound  to 
whisper  when  you're  chosen. 

That's  like  telling  a  man  being  led  to 
his  execution  that  there's  nothing  to  be 
afraid  of.     Mike  fright  is  a  handicap. 

But  you  can  control  yourself  by  re- 
membering one  thing:  you're  in  a  con- 
test and  the  immediate  problem  is  to 
answer  the  question.  Concentrate  on 
that  and  forget  the  studio  audience, 
your  friends  listening  at  home  and  the 
announcer's  smooth  patter.  That's  some- 
thing else.  Naturally  the  m.c.  will  give 
you  time  to  think,  but  in  the  meantime 
he  has  to  keep  talking  or  he  will  have 
dead  air.  Generally,  he  speaks  only  for 
the  amusement  of  the  audience.  So  don't 
let  him  distract  you. 

Chances  are  that  you  will  leave  the 
mike  in  a  cold  sweat.  But,  with  a  lot 
of  luck  and  good  sense,  you  may  have 
won  all  or  part  of  the  following:  a  trip 
around  the  world,  a  chinchilla  coat, 
10,000  cans  of  soup,  nine  rooms  of  furni- 
ture, a  car,  jewels  worth  a  thousand 
dollars,  a  ranch  house  complete  with 
cherry  orchard,  and  a  dressed  steer  all 
ready  for  your  new  radar  stove. 


an  /^fUtcotetdO^ 
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Listen  to  the  human  stories  of  people 
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for  the  stubborn,  ugly, 
embarrassing  scaly  skin 
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scalp.  Grateful  users  often        ^m^t^^a^^^^^^  _«  ■>  ^ 
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gone,  the  red  patches  gradually  dis-  ,  . 

appeared  and  they  enjoyed  the  thrill  of  a  clear  skin 
again.  Dermoil  is  used  bv  many  doctors  and  is  backed  by  a 
positive  agreement  to  give  definite  benefit  in  2  weeks  or 
money  is  refunded  without  question.  Send  lOc  (stamps  or 
coin)  for  generous  trial  bottle  to  make  our  famous  One  bpot 
Test."  Test  it  vourself.  Results  may  surprise  you.  Write  to- 
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Quiz  Kid  of  the 
Quarter 

{Continued  from  page  58) 

thirteen-year-old  who  wants  to  be  a 
history  teacher,  emerged  Quiz  Kid  of 
th^  Quarter,  the  Central  Junior  High 
School  student  council  celebrated  with 
a  pep  rally  such  as  they  give  a  basket- 
ball team. 

It  was  effective,  too,  for  when  Ross 
reached  Chicago,  he  really  grabbed  for 
the  questions.  Although  the  Chief 
Quizzer,  Joe  Kelly,  named  no  winner 
on  the  coast-to-coast  broadcast,  Ross 
held  his  own  with  champs  from  Denver, 
Colorado;  Baton  Rouge,  Louisiana; 
Flint,  Michigan,  and  Williamsport, 
Pennsylvania. 

More  such  contests  are  in  prospect 
as  Quiz  Kids  continues  to  hunt  talent, 
coast  to  coast.  With  bond  awards,  trips 
to  Chicago  and  network  broadcasts 
promised,  youngsters  are  discovering 
that  learning  can  be  as  much  fun  as 
football. 


Most  Likely  to  Succeed 

(Continued  from  page  65) 

and  salt  and  mix  well.  Add  the  re- 
maining sugar  alternately  with  cream, 
beating  until  smooth  after  each  ad- 
dition. Add  extra  cream  if  necessary. 
Enough  to  frost,  fill  and  decorate  two 
9-inch  layers. 

To  color  frosting:  Add  vegetable  color- 
ing in  shade  desired,  one  drop  at  a 
time.  Mix  well  after  each  addition. 
Continue  adding  color  until  desired 
shade  is  obtained. 


Double  Decker  Sandwiches 

Hearty  double-deckers  make  an  im- 
pression on  your  guests,  yet  are  easy  to 
do.  Here  are  some  good  combinations: 
(Pictured)  Sliced  boiled  ham,  thin 
sliced  peeled  tomato,  lettuce  and  may- 
onnaise. 

Olive   and   cream   cheese   spread   with 
pimiento  cheese  spread. 
Peanut  butter  and  bacon  with  smoky 
cheese. 

'49  Punch 

2  cans   (2  cups)   frozen 

concentrated  orange  juice 
2  CUDS  (or  1  package  frozen) 

sliced,  sweetened  raspberries 

or  strawberries 
4  quarts  ginger  ale  or  carbonated 

water 

ice 

Defrost  frozen  orange  juice  (add  no 
water).  Sieve  raspberries  or  straw- 
berries to  make  1 V2  cups  pulp.  Combine 
orange  juice  and  fruit  pulp  in  punch 
bowl.  When  ready  to  serve,  add  gin- 
ger ale  or  soda  and  ice.  If  you  prefer  to 
make  this  in  the  glass,  place  2  table- 
spoons of  the  fruit  mixture  in  glass, 
then  fill  with  carbonated  water  and  ice. 
Makes  16  tall  glasses  or  25  6-ounce  cups 
of  punch. 

Coffee  for  a   Crowd 

1  pound  coffee,  medium  grind 

2  gallons  (8  quarts)  boiling  water 

Place  coffee  in  cheesecloth  or  muslin 
bag,  leaving  room  inside  bag  for  coffee 
to  double  in  bulk.  Drop  bag  into  large 
kettle  containing  boiling  water.  Cover 
tightly  and  let  stand  over  low  flame 
6  to  10  minutes  until  coffee  reaches  de- 


Stop  Corns! 


INSTANT 
RELIEF 


Do  as  millions  now  do  and  you'll  never  have 
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New  patented  creep -proof  pinked  edge 
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IDowny-soft.  Flesh  color.  Won't  come  off 
in  bath.  As  easy  to  apply  as  a  postage 
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ROUGHOUT  THE  WOftLP  ' 


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Think  of  it!  32  lovely  pieces  of  stamped  material  which  you 
can  easily  and  quickly  embroider.  Costs  only  SI -98  yet  you 
would  expect  to  pay  much  more  for  these  many  pieces.  A 
sensational  bargam!  Large  scarf  for  dresser  or  radio.  7  po, 
refreshment  set,  large  center,  end  table  or  flush  tank  cover, 
doilies,  samplers,  pot  holders,  bibs,  whisk  broom  holder,  3 
PC.  chair  set,  3  pc.  vanity  set,  3  pc.  buffet  set.  etc.  etc. — 32 
pieces  in  all  on  fine  white  art  cloth  for  only  SI. 98  plus  postage 
and  C.O.D.  handling.  FREE  to  Anyone — Embroidery  hoop 
free,  generous  assortment  six  strand  floss.  Also  free,  amazing 
new  invention  fits  on  any  sewing  machine  easily,  auickly. 
Makes  button  holes,  quilts,  sews  on  buttons,  attaches  zinpers, 
darns  stockings,  mends  tears,  etc.  Sells  elsewhere  recularly 
for  SI. 00  but  sent  to  you  free.  Satisfaction  guaranteed,  or  your 
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be  more  fair?  Just  mail  a  card  today! 

KNIGHT  MAIL  ORDER  CO.,  Dept3361H.Chicago12,liL 


P 
M 

101 


^.^^;^ 

j^    .^-^r^^' 
^.y^'^^ 


savs  lovely 
IRENE  KULBACK 

PAN  AMERICAN 

WORLD  AIRWAYS 

ttewardoit 


Anywhere  in  the  world,  Irene  finds  the  few  minutes 
needed  for  her  regular  streamlined  shampoo  with 
GLO-VER.  No  other  shampoo  can  do  more  for  your 
hair — for  glorious  sparkle,  glamorous  lustre,  that  natural- 
looking  hair-beauty!  GLO-VER  contains  mild,  efficient 
cleansing  agents,  made  from  fine  blended  vegetable  oils. 
Rinses  out  instantly — no  trace  of  unsightly  film.  Removes 
loose  dandru6F,  cleanses  scalp. 
Ask  for  the  regular  size  pack- 
age at  Drug  or  Cosmetic ' 
Counters  today — or  mail 
Coupoa    for    free   Sampler. 


^.i- 


GliO-l^R 


im 
102 


Glover's,  Dept.556 
101  West  31st  St..  New  York  1,  N.  Y. 
Send  free  Sampler  Package  in  plain  wrapper  by 
return  mail — GLO-VER  Shampoo,  Glover's 
Mange  Medicine  and  Hair  Dress,  in  3  hermeti- 
cally-sealed bottles,  with  free  booklet.  I  enclose 
10  F  to  cover  cost  of  packaging  and  posuge. 

Name 

XpLEASB  print  PLAtNlY) 

Addreis „  . 

DoerGARLic 
Relieve  GAS? 

ALLIMIN  relieves  distressing  symptoms  of 
heaviness  after  meals,  belching,  bloating  and 
colic  due  to  gas  in  stomach  and  intestines. 
ALLIMIN  has  been  clinically  tested  by  doctors 
and  found  highly  eifective.  ALLIMIN  is  the 
largest  selling  garlic  tablet  in  the  world.  For 
sale  at  drug  stores  everywhere.   Ask  for 


ALLIMIN  Gar/fc  Tabfefs 


for  vefvefy-smoofb  sfcin,  whisk 
wi'/h   genf/e 

BABY  TOUCH  Hair  Remover  Pad 

Mi^  \\\i^  a  powder  puff ...  so  simple 

•  no  odor  •  no  bother 

•  no  razor  •  so  safe,  clean 

•  so  economical,  handy 

Homeor anywhere!  Justwhisk 
away  unwanted  hair.  Prevents 
prickly  razor  stubble.  Stage, 
screen  stars  find  it  aids  velve- 
ty skin.   Millions  in  use. 

Wonderful,  foo,  on  FACE,  CHIN,  NECK 
Your  doctor  will  okay  Baby  Touch's  gentle 
way.    Try  it.    Especially  if  unhappy  with 
present  method. 

SAT/SFACnON  GUARANTEED      O  C  * 

Or  money  refunded.  Ask  today 
at  leading  drug  .and  cosmetic  counters.  Or 
send  25c  for  1,  or  $1.00  for  5  pads.  2 -side 
mittens,  35c,  3  for  $1.00.  Baby  Touch  Hair 
Remover  Co.,  3750  Lindell,  Dept.M65,  St.  Louis 
8.  Mo. 
J        At  Leading  Drug  &  Cosmetic  Counters 


sired  strength.  Remove  bag,  cover 
tightly  and  keep  hot.     Makes  40  cups. 

Sandwich  Loaf 

1  cup  green  or  ripe  olives,  chopped 
4  (3  oz.)  packages  cream  cheese 

1  tbl.  olive  brine 

4  hard  cooked  eggs,  chopped 
Vi  cup  celery,  finely  chopped 

2  this,  parsley,  finely  chopped 

1  small  onion,  minced- 
%  tsp.  dry  mustard 

V2  tsp.  salt 

2  tbls.  mayonnaise 

1  loaf  bread  (unsliced) 
garnish  (such  as  watercress) 
milk  or  cream 

Combine  olives,  1  package  of  cream 
cheese  and  olive  brine;  blend  well.  In 
another  bowl  combine  eggs,  celery, 
parsley,  onion,  mustard,  salt  and  may- 
onnaise and  mix  well.  Remove  all 
crusts  from  bread.  Cut  loaf  length- 
wise into  3  slices.  Spread  one  slice 
with  the  olive  mixture  and  one  with 
egg  mixture.  Place  slices,  one  on  top 
of  the  other,  and  put  unspread  slice  on 
top  to  form  a  loaf.  Mash  remaining 
cream  cheese  and  moisten  with  a  little 
milk  to  make  it  spreading  consistency. 
Frost  loaf  with  cheese  mixture.  Store, 
covered,  in  icebox  until  ready  to  serve. 
Then  garnish  as  desired. 

Make-Your-Own  Sandwiches 

Arrange  a  large  tray  with  slices  of 
white,  whole  wheat,  rye  and  other 
breads,  as  well  as  crackers,  around  the 
outside.  In  the  center,  place  matching 
dishes  of  spreads.  Label  each  with  a 
card,  fastened  into  the  spread  with  a 
toothpick.  This  assortment  of  spreads 
should  meet  every  taste:  meat  salad, 
cream  cheese,  cream  cheese  and  onion, 
tuna-egg,  peanut  butter,  jelly,  cheese 
and  bacon,  honey  butter,  and  creamed 
butter  or  margarine.  Seasonings  such 
as  salt  and  pepper,  mayonnaise,  mus- 
tard and  catsup,  should  also  be  close  at 
hand.  Let  each  guest  help  himself  to 
the  combination  he  desires. 

Meat  Salad 

¥2  cup  ground  cooked  meat* 
1/4  cup  finely  chopped  celery 

2  tbls.  sweet  pickle  relish 
2  tbls.  mayonnaise 

dash  salt 

*  For  meat,  use  left-over  ham  or  beef, 
luncheon  meat,  deviled  ham  or  chicken. 
Mix  ingredients  well.  Enough  for  8 
sandwiches. 

Tuna  Egg  Spread 

1  7-ounce  can  tuna  fish 
3  hard  cooked  eggs,  chopped 
3  tbls.  chopped  dill  pickle 
6  tbls.  mayonnaise 

Drain  and  shred  tuna  fish.  Add  re- 
maining ingredients  and  mix  well. 
Makes  24  sandwiches. 

Peach   Pudding   Cake 

4  cups  sifted  enriched  flour 
6  tsps.  baking  powder 

1  tsp.  salt 

2  cups  sugar 

1/2  cup  melted  shortening 
4  eggs 
2  cups  milk 
2  tsps.  vanilla 
4  cups  canned  sliced  peaches,  well-drained 

Mix  and  sift  flour,  baking  powder  and 
salt  into  a  large  mixing  bowl.  Add  re- 
maining ingredients  except  peaches, 
and  stir  until  smooth.  Pour  into  a  well 
greased  baking  pan  (11  x  16  x  2  inches) , 
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The  McNeills  Come 
Calling 

{Continued  jrom  page  61) 

The  warm  Don-and-Sam  friendship 
started  that  way.  And  after  Sam  be- 
came a  regular  part  of  Breakfast  Club, 
Kay  and  I  developed  an  alliance  of  our 
own. 

So  it's  no  wonder  the  McNeills  were 
our  first  visitors. 

I  didn't,  I  swear,  raise  my  voice  one 
decibel  when  I  told  Kay,  "And  in  this 
room,  Bud  thinks  we  should  do  the 
walls  in  cocoa  brown." 

Sam  stopped  winding  line  on  his 
super-colossal  reel.  "You  mean  brown, 
like  chocolate?" 

Reflectively,  he  rubbed  his  chin.  "I 
never  did  like  brown  paint  very  much. 
If  we're  bound  to  have  cocoa  brown, 
I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do." 

His  audience  had  come  running.  The 
five  boys  were  ranged  in  the  wide 
doorway,  brawny  Tommy  and  Donny 
in  the  back  row,  the  small  fry  in  front 
of  them,  like  a  cheering  section. 

"I  estimate,"  said  Sam  thoughtfully, 
"that  we  have  about  a  thousand  feet  of 
wall  space.  How  about  it  if  I  buy  three 
thousand  candy  bars,  the  squashy  kind, 
and  we  all  stand  around  and  throw 
them?" 

"Oh,  Sam,"  I  wailed.  Being  married 
to  a  comedian  is  sometimes  most  un- 
funny, 

"You  know,"  said  Don,  "I'll  bet  you'd 
have  no  trouble  making  the  color  stick." 

DONNY  picked  up  the  gag.  "Your 
walls  would  sure  be  in  good  taste." 

Their  Bobby  and  our  Bill  exchanged 
glances.  "You'd  never  have  to  ask  for 
a  nickel,"  said  Bob. 

"Nope,"  Bill  agreed.  "Just  peel  your 
candy  right  off  the  wall.  Bring  in  the 
gang  any  time  we  got  hungry." 

I  should,  after  all  these  years,  have 
learned  when  to  keep  still,  but  I  had 
really  liked  the  idea  of  cocoa-brown 
walls.  Foolishly,  I  protested,  "That 
isn't  the  way  it's  going  to  be  at  all." 

Sam  led  me  on.  "How  is  it,  then?" 

"You  don't  understand  what  Bud 
meant.  He  wants  to  do  those  walls  solid 
brown  because  they're  each  cut  by  wide 
doors.  Then,  to  get  the  impression  of 
more  space  in  the  room,  he  wants  to 
curtain  that  outside  wall,  with  yellow, 
probably,  and  use  a  sky  blue  panel 
over  the  fireplace." 

"Sky  blue?"  asked  Sam. 

I  gestured.  "Like  a  piece  of  the  sky. 
He  wants  wild  geese  flying  across  it." 

Kay,  at  least,  followed  the  picture, 
"That  sounds  lovely  to  me." 

Sam  pondered.  "I  kind  of  like  the 
idea,  and  I've  got  the  final  touch.  I'll 
have  a  big  photographic  enlargement 
made  of  my  hunting  -license.  We'll 
frame  it  and  set  it  right  on  the  mantel." 

Sammy  pulled  an  imaginary  gun  to 
his  shoulder.  "Bang,  bang,  bang,  bang." 
That  kid,  if  I'm  not  careful,  will  turn 
into  a  sound  effects  man. 

Don  shook  his  head.  "Too  noisy." 

He  considered  for  a  moment,  then  his 
face  broke  into  one  of  those  jack-o'- 
lantern  grins.  "But  I  have  a  thought. 
If  you  want  a  wild  life  theme,  I  think 
it's  a  mistake  to  cover  the  window.  Why 
don't  you  just  build  it  out  with  a  glass 
tank  and  use  it  for  a  casting  pool?  If 
that  lunkhead  of  yours  gets  some  extra 
practice,  maybe  he  can  keep  up  with  me 
on  our  next  fishing  trip." 

Kay  and  I  fled. 

"I  can't  win,  either,"  she  comforted. 
"You'll  just  have  to  let  them  get  all 


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R 
M 

103 


the  gags  out  of  their  systems  before 
you  start.  No  decorator  can  take  it. 
That  gang  would  give  even  Bud  a 
nervous  breakdown." 

That's  the  way  it  is,  whenever  the 
McNeills  or  Cowlings  get  together.  They 
should  charge  admission  and  turn  the 
proceeds  over  to  charity,  but  they're 
their  own  best  audience. 

Sometimes  the  public  does  get  in  on 
it.  Time  after  time,  I've  heard  a  gag 
start  at  home  and  end  up  on  the  air. 

Take  the  matter  of  music  at  our 
house.  Sam  can't  read  a  note,  but  he 
has  a  fabulously  accurate  ear,  and  plays 
guitar,  drums  and  bass. 

Did  you  ever  try  to  fit  a  bass  fiddle 
into  a  decorating  scheme?  There's  noth- 
ing sadder  on  earth  than  that  over- 
grown violin  drooping  against  a  wall. 
It  looks  like  it  had  lost  its  last  friend. 

The  best  I  could  think  of  was  to  turn 
the  front  sun  porch  into  a  music  room. 
The  bass  seems  happier  with  a  nice 
little  spinet  piano  for  company,  and 
Sam  and  I  sort  of  liked  the  old  fash- 
ioned idea  of  a  family  orchestra.  So 
Billy  has  been  delegated  to  study  piano. 

"How  is  he  doing?"  Don  inquired 
politely. 

Sam  shook  his  head.  "Not  so  well. 
He's  going  for  lessons,  but  they're  not 
taking." 

By  the  time  those  two  clowns  finished 
kicking  that  one  around  in  front  of  a 
microphone,  it  had  come  out  a  typical 
Breakfast  Club  crack  aimed  at  the  visit- 
ing president  of  the  Musical  Grand- 
mothers of  America. 

"Yes,"  Don  remarked,  "he  knew  a 
musical  grandfather,  too.  One  of  his 
grandchildren  picked  up  the  violin, 
another  the  flute,  and  another  the 
piano.  Now,  whenever  they  get  to- 
gether for  an  evening  of  music,  the  old 
man  picks  up  his  coat  and  blows." 

No  gag  writers  need  apply.  We  grow 
our  own  in  our  families. 

Kay  wanted  to  see  the  rest  of  the 
house,  and  we  moved  toward  the  rear 
of  the  apartment,  by-passing  the 
kitchen.  My  mother  had  firmly  in- 
formed me  this  was  her  day  to  get 
dinner.  We  both  like  to  cook,  and  once 
in  a  while  there's  some  rivalry  about 
which  one  uses  the  stove. 

Sam's  and  my  room  came  first.  It's 
pleasantly  large,  with  ample  room  for 
beds,  dressers,  chairs  and  a  closet  big 
enough  to  hold  Sam's  wild  wardrobe. 

I  threw  up  my  hands.  "I  can't  think  of 
a  thing  to  do  with  this  room.  Beyond 
soundproofing  the  closet,  that  is,  to 
quiet  Sam's  loud  jackets." 

We  went  on  down  the  hall.  "Mother's 
room,  on  the  other  hand,  is  pretty 
definite.  We'll  do  white  tie-back  cur- 
tains, and  a  low  slipper  chair.  Next  time 
she  goes  back  to  Louisville  for  a  visit, 
she'll  look  for  a  hand-tied  candlewick 


bedspread." 

Kay  approved.  "A  nice,  simple,  com- 
fortable room  for  a  lady." 

"Billy's  room  will  be  easy,  too,"  I 
continued.  "All  he  wants  is  a  place  to 
sleep.  He's  never  in  it  anyway.  He's 
turning  into  the  explorer  of  the  family. 
He's  always  out,  roaming  around,  try- 
ing to  find  out  what  makes  things  tick." 

"What  about  Sammy?" 

"He  gets  the  back  sun  porch."  I  threw 
open  the  door.  Tanks  of  tropical  fish 
already  were  braced  on  packing  crates 
and  cast  off  tables.  My  older  son  needed 
space. 

"It's  nice  Sammy  chose  a  decorative 
hobby.  This  ought  to  be  attractive  when 
we've  finished." 

"What  about  those?"  Kay  pointed  to 
a  row  of  cigar  boxes.  "Don't  tell  me  he's 
taken  to  stogies." 

I  shivered.  "Sometimes  I  wish  he  had. 
That,  my  dear,  is  a  worm  hatchery. 
Nasty,  squirmy,  little  round  white 
worms.  Fish  eat  worms,  and  worms  eat 
bread,  soaked  in  milk  over  night. 
Sammy  is  most  conscientious  about 
feeding  both  worms  and  fish.  It's  all 
right  until  he  leaves  a  lid  open  and  they 
crawl  out." 

I  led  Kay  back  to  the  dining  room, 
pointed  above  the  kitchen  door.  "Right 
there  is  the  basketball  court.  Sam's  as 
bad  as  the  boys.  He  says  he  doesn't 
know  why  he  can't  just  cut  both  ends 
out  of  a  tin  can,  tack  it  up,  and  shoot 
baskets  with  a  tennis  ball.  Now  that 
we've  moved,  it's  a  long  way  to  the 
gym." 

"They've  got  room  enough  for  it," 
said  Kay,  surveying  the  nearly  empty 
room.  "When  will  your  dining  room 
furniture  be  delivered?" 

"The  fifteenth  day  of  the  thirteenth 
month,  by  my  guess,"  I  sighed.  Three 
months  before,  I  had  ordered  it.  Just 
ordinary  period  mahogany.  A  break- 
front  and  a  big  table.  A  table  big  enough 
for  everybody  to  sit  down.  We  like  to 
have  people  drop  in,  and  at  our  house 
the  table  has  to  stretch. 

My  mother  emerged  from  the  kitchen. 
"You  might  just  as  well  cancel  that  fur- 
niture order.  We  don't  need  it.  We 
haven't  set  a  table  for  dinner  in  this 
household  since  the  television  set  was 
installed." 

"Hey,  it's  time  for  Kukla,  Fran  and 
Ollie,"  shouted  a  McNeill  to  a  Cowling. 
Sammy,  with  responsibility  befitting  the 
elder  son,  tuned  in  the  set.  The  rest  of 
the  gang  plopped  on  the  fioor,  elbowing 
for  choice  spots  in  front  of  the  screen. 
Don  and  Sam  put  away  their  fishing 
toys  and  moved  chairs  into  position. 

"Get  your  trays  first,"  my  mother 
directed.  "I  don't  want  to  go  falling 
over  your  feet  in  the  dark." 

Big  Don  slipped  an  arm  around  her 
waist.  "Fried  chicken?"  he  inquired. 


R 

M 

104 


Listen  To: 

Bill  Stern's 

"SPORTS  NEWSHEEL" 

Every  Friday  NBC 
10:30  p.m.  Eastern  Time 

Read  BILL  STERN'S 

jrVjKl    jUKrKljt     feature  in  the  current  issue  of 
SPORT  magazine  now  on  newsstands. 


"Southern  fried  chicken,"  said 
mother. 

Sam's  grin  reached  from  ear  to  ear. 
"No  one  in  the  world  makes  fried 
chicken  like  Granny,"  he  boasted. 
"Down  in  Louisville,  when  the  Romeos 
were  playing  WHAS,  there  were  times 
I  wasn't  sure  which  of  my  two  girls  I 
was  courting." 

My  mother  and  my  husband  ex- 
changed one  of  those  understanding 
glances.  I  hate  to  destroy  a  Breakfast 
Club  myth,  but  I  think  most  of  the 
audience  already  has  guessed  it.  Sam 
thinks  the  world  of  my  mother,  and 
she  of  him.  Whenever  there's  a  family 
discussion,  I'm  likely  to  find  those  two 
on  the  same  side,  and  me  out  on  a  limb. 

1  even  suspect  her  of  looking  for  new 
mother-in-law  jokes  to  add  to  his  col- 
lection. 

He  bustled  into  the  kitchen  to  help 
her  serve,  and  returned  to  set  the  first 
tray  on  Kay's  lap  with  a  fiourish.  The 
plate  was  heaped  with  golden  brown 
fried  chicken,  fluffy  white  mashed 
potatoes,  green  stalks  of  asparagus. 
There's  one  thing  to  be  said  for  tele- 
vision dining.   It  keeps  menus  simple. 

Kay  said,  "Mmmmm,  good.  I  never 
can  get  mine  to  come  out  just  like  that. 
You  must  have  a  secret,  Mrs.  Hammill." 

Mother  said,  "No  secret  at  all.  Just 
cut  up  the  chicken  and  soak  it  in  water 
over  night.  Then  mix  salt  and  pepper 
with  flour,  and  roll  the  chicken  in  it. 
Fry  it  in  deep  fat  until  brown.  There's 
nothing  to  it." 

"How  many  chickens  does  it  take  to 
feed  this  tribe,  Sam?"  Don  asked. 

"Enough  so  there  ought  to  be  a  drum- 
stick for  every  one.  But,"  Sam  added 
wistfully,  "I  always  come  up  with  the 
wish  bone,  with  all  the  meat  off.  The 
mother-in-law  influence,  no  doubt." 

"How  about  dessert?"  Tommy 
queried.      "What  is  it,  chocolate  pie?" 

"Tommy!"  Kay  protested.  "You  don't 
ask  your  hostess  what  she  is  going  to 
feed  you." 

"Don't  scold  him,  he's  my  public,"  I 
begged.  "Yes,  Tommy,  it's  chocolate 
cream,  made  by  your  favorite  recipe." 

"Dell,  you'll  just  have  to  give  it  to  me 
again,"  said  Kay.  "My  last  maid  lost  the 
card  out  of  my  file  box." 

I  copied  it  down  for  her: 

Chocolate  Cream  Pie 

3      tbs.  flour 

3      tbs.  cornstarch 

V2  tsp.  salt 

3,4  cup  sugar 
2 1/2  cups  hot  milk 

2  squares  of  chocolate 
2      egg  yolks 

1      tsp.  vanilla 

Sift  together  flour,  cornstarch  and 
sugar.  Add  to  hot  milk;  cook  in  a  double 
boiler  until  thick.  Add  chocolate  broken 
in  small  pieces.   Stir  until  smooth. 

Beat  egg  yolks  slightly,  and  spoon 
into  them  a  few  tablespoons  of  the  hot 
mixture.  When  blended,  pour  the  eggs 
slowly  into  the  double  boiler.  Cook  one 
minute  longer,  stirring  constantly. 

Pour  into  a  baked  pastry  shell,  and 
top  with  whipped  cream. 

"Guaranteed  to  be  a  production  num- 
ber," said  Sam.  "Definitely  not  recomi- 
mended  for  throwing  at  walls.  We'll  get 
chocolate  bars  for  that." 

There  we  were,  right  back  where  we 
started. 

I  wouldn't  be  too  surprised  if  I  end 
up  with  walls  white  as  a  hospital  in  my 
living  room.  Whatever  they  are,  if  they 
please  Sam  and  the  boys,  and  our  guests 
have  a  good  time  when  they  come  to 
see  us,  that's  all  that  matters.  The 
Cowling  home  is  designed  for  living. 


Ma  YB£L  L  INE^'Anahd.  I 


-'""^fc.;, 


^S3 


.,vf 


/, 


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; 


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0  020  514  113  3 


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