 Radio's own show, Behind the Mic. The switch of a dial, radio brings you tragedy, comedy, entertainment, information, education, a whole world at your command. But there are stories behind radio. Stories behind your favorite program and favorite personalities and radio people you've never heard of. Stories as amusing, dramatic, and as interesting as any make-believe stories you hear on the air. And that's what we give you. The human interest, the glamour, the tragedy, the comedy, and information that are behind the mic. All presenting a man whose name since the beginning of broadcasting has been a byword in radio, Graham McNamee. Thank you, Gilbert Martin, and good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen of the radio audience. Here's a bit of behind-the-mic information you might care to know. Today, our regular studio, The Ritz Theater, is being used by Ted Weems and his orchestra for their broadcast, and we've been placed for this week in a studio too small to permit a studio audience. So, you will hear no applause or audience reaction during the program. And now to the show, and it's a mighty interesting one. This afternoon behind the mic brings you a story behind a broadcast of the popular singer, Frank Luther, a contest expert to tell you exactly what happens to your entries in a radio contest. The sound effect of the week, a salute to a program you loved, the three ex-sisters, the results of last week's singing audition, and finally, a dramatization of a thrilling story told by Captain Tim Healy. There's no doubt that radio deeply influences the lives of many of its listeners, and here is another behind-the-mic story told by one of radio's most popular tenors, Frank Luther, to prove it. Frank is heard regularly on his program of the Luther layman singers and on luncheon at the Waldorf. Frank Luther, Frank, what is that story? Well, Graham, in 1935, I received a letter from a trained nurse. Dear Mr. Luther, I am writing to ask you a favor. I have a patient who is very ill. Her husband died a few months ago, and the shock was so great that gradually she lost her vitality and became sick. She has been in a coma for the past few days, and the doctors haven't been able to bring her out of it. Her father heard you on the air a few days ago, and noticed that your voice sounded almost exactly like his dead son-in-laws. When you speak on the air, my patient seems to hear you through her coma and shows traces of consciousness. Now, I have a plan which the doctors have agreed to try. My patient's husband had a pet name for her, Dream. I wonder if on your next program you would say the word Dream over the air. It might penetrate her coma, and seemingly being the voice of her husband, shock my patient into recovery. Well, what did you do, Frank? I rewrote the script for my next program and put in the word Dream wherever I could. So, when I went on the air, I thought very hard about that girl, and I said something like this. Well, hello there. How are you? Isn't today been a dream? A dream of a day to daydream. You know, Eliebstrand, don't you dream of love? Well, I wrote new words to it to sing today, especially for you, and the words say, you are my dream. You've enjoyed that song. A few days later, I got this letter from the same nurse. We sat around the radio when your program came on the air. My patient's father, myself, and, of course, my patient. She was in bed, and the radio was near her. I wonder if you'll do what you asked, Miss Evans. Oh, I hope so. If this doesn't help, I don't know what we'll do. The doctor says she just doesn't want to live. Well, I'll turn on the radio now. It's time. Maybe if your daughter thinks she hears her husband's voice, it'll shock her out of the coma. She called for Martin. That was my son and her husband. Sometime later, the father said, Nurse, how is she now? Heaven be blessed. She's fallen into a healthy sleep. I think she's going to be all right. And Graham, I received another letter shortly afterwards from the father, telling me that his daughter was better, and that he was taking her on a sea trip to help win back her strength. Thank you, Frank Luther. Thank you very much for giving us another example of the way in which radio has helped its listeners. Each week behind the mic presents some unusual sound effect, which was used on a program of the past week and tells exactly how it was done. On the Mr. District Attorney show last week, a certain sound effect was used, we're going to show you how it was created from the very beginning. It was made up originally of some fruit boxes being broken, like this. The sound of fingers being rubbed on a balloon. A thunder drum being struck, continuously. And some heavy wrapping paper being crushed into a ball in front of the microphone. All these were done together, and continuously, and three records all alike were made of the sounds. The records, when played, then sounded like this. These three records were then played at half speed, and they sounded like this. Which wasn't quite the effect that was wanted, whatever it was. And then two of these records were played at half of that speed, and one record was played at the same speed as before. And the records, when played at the same time, sounded like this. The sound of ice breaking about a ship. Writing contest, for instance, in which you have to enclose a box top. You ever wonder how thoroughly your entry is read and how much care is taken to assure your entry of a fair chance? Our next guest, Herbert Lewis, is a man who can tell you all about that. Herb, exactly what is your job? Well, Graham, I'm contest manager of the Rubin H. Donnelly Corporation, which is the largest company handling radio and other contests. We sometimes originate contest ideas for sponsors, and then we conduct the contest, judge the entries, and run the whole thing. Of course, under the sponsor's supervision. Herb, let's suppose there's a radio contest in which the contestant is to send in 50 words on how he likes the sponsor's product. He has to enclose a box top or a reasonable facsimile. There are a few big prizes and thousands of small ones. Exactly what steps are taken to ensure contestants getting a fair break? Well, first, the mail is opened by a group of preliminary judges and letters that are obviously without merit. Letters that are so bad that they just wouldn't have a chance of winning any prize or discarded. Well, do people who send facsimiles instead of the actual box top when a choice is given them ever win a prize? Oh, yes. I've never seen a radio contest that wasn't strictly on the level. I will add that in the time you could copy one facsimile you could write two additional entries. Well, after the first judge has finished the reading, what then? The remaining letters are turned over to a second group of judges who check each entry against a standard rating sheet which has been especially prepared for this particular contest. Well, how are the entries rated? Well, they might be checked for smoothness, easy readability, naturalness of expression, sincerity or originality. A certain percentage is given for each point. A perfect score would be a hundred, of which, of course, no one ever hits. Then, those letters which have been rated so low that they have no chance of winning a prize are eliminated from the contest. That sounds like one of mine. After the second group of judges and the first one, what? The letters go to another group of what we call senior judges. They may disagree with the rating of the preliminary judges and revise the ratings. You certainly seem to use a lot of care to see that everyone gets a fair chance. Yes, we do. And finally, the best letters, those with the highest ratings are turned over to the executive judges, consisting of myself, my assistant and two other executives of our company. We again rate the letters the sponsor and the advertising agency sit in on the contest, don't they? Well, yes, Graham, but they're very fair. They always accept the verdict of the judges. Well, Herbert, now that I've got you here, I want to ask you one question that's always bothered me. Why is it that you find more people from small towns winning in contests than people from large cities? Well, Graham, that primarily is a question of percentage of entries. You see a great many more people from small towns enter contests than people from large cities do. And it's only natural that there should be more winners from the small towns. Well, would you say that a person needs any special skill or technique to win one of the major prizes? You would be surprised, Graham, to know how many of the grand prize winners never won any kind of a contest prize before. And now, Herbert, before you go, tell me in just a few words how can I win a contest? Well, Graham, that's a cinch. Don't try to use your imagination. Don't use it. Read what the advertiser claims for it. Try it out thoroughly. Compare the results with those that you get from competitive products. Then, sit down and write the exact truth about those things for which you found it to be satisfactory or superior. Keep it simple. The both will all be sincere. Do it that way, Graham, and you can't miss. I'm going right out and spend that prize money now. One last question, Herb. People take these contests mighty seriously, don't they? Wow, Graham. In a recent contest, one woman sent a letter saying that before the contest, her husband used to take her to dances and to shows. Now all he does is sit home and work on the contest. Graham, she wanted the contest stopped. I can't blame her a bit. Thank you very much, Herbert Lewis. Thank you. Last week, we had an actual audition on this program of two girl singers trying out for a sustaining spot on NBC's Blue Network. The young ladies were Jane Clifton and Anne Francine. Neither of them had previously sung on NBC. Their tryout was introduced by Robert E. Button, assistant manager of the NBC Blue Network. The program board heard the tryout last week, and here's Bob Button back again to tell us the verdict. Bob, what was the verdict of the program board? Well, Graham, Billy Hillpot, the manager of the Blue Network and the rest of the board like both of the girls. However, as far as Miss Francine was concerned, Billy, and he's the court of last resort, felt that as good as she is, the Blue Network already has a number of singers of her type being presented to the public. Therefore, he thought that it would not be advisable to give her a sustaining spot at this time but better at some later date. Well, how about Jane Clifton? Billy and the rest of the board liked Miss Clifton and what she did, but she only sang one song. And they wished to hear her in a couple of other numbers to see if she can put over a variety of songs. So the program board is going to re-audition her shortly. And if she proves she can put over other types of numbers as well, will she be presented on a sustaining spot? Very possibly. Thank you, Bob Button, thanks a lot for the information and for your cooperation. Behind the Mic salutes a program you loved. We in radio believe that radio has a tradition of which it can well be proud. A tradition of good programs that linger fondly in our memory. And so each week we bring you a star or a part of a program you used to hear. A program you loved. This afternoon behind the mic salutes one of radio's great trios, the three ex-sisters. A group which was on the air from 1931 to 1937 when they retired from radio. We think they still are just as good as ever and we're proud to salute them. The three ex-sisters first do a number from one of their early programs. At this time, they also used to sing and do sound effects on the Max Fleischer cartoons. Girls, where have you been? These last few afternoons. Over at Max Fleischer's Helping Make Cartoons We impersonated instruments and then next sang did imitations and made sound effects. Imitated instruments? How can that be? Just listen and you'll hear our polite piece. Give us more, gals. Just keep rolling right along. We also did a kind of hillbilly song. Like a bagpipe? That sound uncanny? Listen, Graham, of course. So did a chicken and a siren, too. And then all together and... Swing into Frenacy. Or maybe it's Frenacy. She stopped and raised her eyes tomorrow Her eyes were like the candle shy A senior reader called my heart And they sighed, Frenacy, Frenacy, Frenacy She raised her eyes tomorrow Her eyes were like the candle shy A senior reader called my heart Thank you, Pearl. Bye, and... oh, you got me doing it now. Anyway, really, thank you, Pearl and bye, and Jesse. It certainly gave me a big kick to hear the three ex-sisters again. Each week we invite the listeners of Behind the Mic to write us questions about radio and almost every week the questions we consider to be of most general interest, we have answered on the air. This afternoon's questions will be answered by the mic in the person of our announcer, Gilbert Martin. Hello, Gil. Hello, Graham. Mr. Monroe Bernstein of New York City says this. Sometimes children's voices are heard on those 15-minute serial programs. Are real children used? I am referring to children speaking simple words and babies crying. Well, in the case of babies crying, these sounds are made almost exclusively by adults who specialize in such effects. A number of adults specialize in parts of children, but sometimes actual children enact the roles. Mr. Bill Whitaker of New York City writes into ask, what was the first heavyweight championship fight broadcast? The first heavyweight championship fight broadcast was the Dempsey-Carpontier fight in 1921 over station WJZ. It was described over the air by Major Andrew White. Miss R. Miller of Des Moines, Iowa asks this. A couple of weeks ago, during a news roundup, the announcer said a couple of times that the listeners would be taken to Washington and part of the Jack Benny program was heard instead. How did this happen? Well, that happened through an error. Stations on a network are connected by telephone wires which carry the program from the point of origin. Now, somebody at the telephone company and attempting to make the switch to Washington on the blue network, which was carrying the news roundup, plugged in the telephone wires carrying the program of the red network instead, which was the Jack Benny program. Ladies and gentlemen, we had some peculiar things that happened in preparing this week's program. One of our prospective guests became ill and two of them had to go out of town on important business which made it impossible for them to appear. This put us in sort of a bit of a hole until we suddenly remembered that we had some spots on this program when we first went on the air which were so good that we felt they could well bear repeating. One of these stories was told by a pleasant, thick-set gentleman standing next to me at the microphone. A man whose broadcasts by short wave probably go to more countries than any commercial broadcast on the air. He is Captain Tim Healy, conductor of Captain Tim Healy's stamp club of the air. Captain Tim, exactly what was this broadcast you did? You know, the one that had that strange result? Well, Graham, back in 1935, I told the following spy story on the air. During the visit of the Kaiser to London in 1913, Scotland Yard assigned various secret servicemen to watch the visitors. Not to spy on them, you understand, but to guard them and to keep them out of trouble. One night, shortly before midnight, a secret serviceman was disguised as a footman in Buckingham Palace. He rapped on the window to catch the attention of another officer stationed outside. What is it? General Von Claibor is leaving the palace. I'll keep an eye on him. The general drove off in his car followed at not too great a distance by the intelligence office in his car. He watched it and turned through the streets as if trying to shake off any possible pursuit. A maneuver which, incidentally, was not successful. Finally, about midnight, the general drove up before a barber shop. He got out of his car, and after looking around very carefully, knocked at the barber's door. I'll scoff at them, will you? Yeah, they are keeping me waiting. Sorry, Helen. The intelligence officer hung around the outside of the barber shop and it was an hour before the general emerged. The barber shop was located in Buckingham Palace. The intelligence officer thought this very strange and, of course, naturally reported it immediately to his chief. The chief found it equally strange. Upon investigation, it was discovered that the barber shop was owned by a man named Hans Ernst, a naturalized British subject. The chief assigned different officers every day to hang around the shop and see if there was anything in the barber's action to arouse suspicion. One day, the chief himself was in the shop waiting to get shaved and rub on the table. Hello, Hans. Hello, got something for me? Here's your money from Germany. I wish it was. Goodbye. All right, yeah. I say, Barbara, I'll be back in a few minutes. But you're next, sir. Yes, but I must get a check-catch to the bank and it's almost closing time. I'll hold my place for a minute. All right, sir. I say, they're postmen. Postmen. Hey! I want a word with you. Well, you know, Romeo, I got to deliver these letters, didn't you? Oh, uh... It's got the yard, eh? Yes. Let's pop into this pub for half a moment. Righto. First, as a loyal British subject, I want you to keep your mouth shut about whatever I ask you. You don't have to worry about me. That large brown envelope you brought into the barber's shop. Does the barber get letters like that often? Well, depends on what you might call often. He gets one of those envelopes regularly. I think about once a month. Oh, he does, does he? The chief then arranged with the post office department for the next of those letters to be delivered to him personally. And when it was delivered to him, the envelope was opened by a secret process known to military intelligence, opened in such a way that it could be closed without the tampering being detected. He discovered 26 letters within that brown envelope. The letters seemed harmless enough, but when they were decoded... Gentlemen, this one is addressed to a German agent in Portsmouth. They want to know the disposition of our fleet there. This one is to an agent in Manchester. They want to know about the production capacity of one of our munitions factories. It's undoubtedly clear that Ernst is acting as a kind of post office. These letters are sent to him in this big envelope from Germany. Then he mails the individual letters himself using English stamps and the letters are postmarked England. And so the agents are not suspected of receiving mail from Germany. We'll just keep an eye on Mr. Ernst. The British intelligence did keep their eye on Mr. Ernst and 26 German agents as well, so that when the war was declared in 1914, they were all immediately clapped into jail, so that at first Germany was in complete darkness concerning the British troop and naval movements. What happened to Ernst and the other agents, Tim? Of course Graham Hounds Ernst paid the penalty for being a spy. What makes this story so strange is this, Graham. The day after I told this spy story on the air, I received a telephone call from a man who'd heard the broadcast and he asked me to give him an interview. I did, and he told me this strange story. He had been in complete ignorance as to what had happened to his grandfather, who had disappeared in England more than 20 years before until he heard my broadcast. His grandfather, Graham, was Hans Ernst. Well, thank you, Captain Tim Healy, for a very interesting and a most entertaining tale. Be sure to listen next week when Behind the Mic shows you how a radio program is put on the air from the moment the ideas for the week's program are originated to the moment of the broadcast. I'm using fan letters that have been written to the networks. Another salute to a program you loved and more of the glamour, the comedy, and the tragedies that are found behind the mic. This is Graham McNamie saying good afternoon all. The mic is written by Mort Lewis. Original music composed and conducted by Ernie Watson. This is the national broadcasting company.