 Family Theatre presents Jane Wyatt, Ward Bond, and James Whitmore. From Hollywood, the Mutual Network in Cooperation with Family Theatre presents James Whitmore and Ward Bond in The Visitor. To introduce the drama, here's your hostess, Jane Wyatt. Thank you, Tony LaFranco. Family Theatre's only purpose is to bring to everyone's attention a practice that must become an important part of our lives if we are to win peace for ourselves, peace for our families, and peace for the world. Family Theatre urges you to pray, pray together as a family. And now to our drama, The Visitor, starring James Whitmore as Lou Anders and Ward Bond as the major. For the last time, Major, are you going to let me off this field? For the last time, no. And you know why, Mr. Anders. And you won't let me file my story from here. No. You say I know why. Well, I don't know why. Frankly, I think you're a little bit of a fool for this attitude. For the first time in the history of the world, we are visited by someone from another planet. For the first time in the history of the world, we're given a solution for all the troubles this earth is heir to by someone who might know. And you, you want to play dictator and withhold this. That's enough, Mr. Anders. It's not enough, Major. This isn't a military installation. It's a private airfield. And this isn't a military matter. It concerns everybody. And get this, Major Winters. I'm going to print this story while it'll still do some good, with your help or without it. And if your guest from Outer Space dies, before I can print it, you can bet your life you'll never be a colonel. Get out of here, Anders. Don't order me around, Junior. I'm not under martial law. I'll be over at the cafe eating if you decide to change your mind. If you've got a mind. William Shakespeare. Hello, Millie. What do you have? Well, I'll tell you what. Give me a cup of hot water with a squirt of chocolate syrup in it and a garb of whipped vegetable oil on top, huh? You making remarks about our hot chocolate with whipped cream again? Alleged hot chocolate and reportedly whipped creamily. Never button yourself down with an exact statement. There's too much risk. You been drinking? Yeah, fighting. Oh. Major still won't let you tell the world, huh? That's right. Well, he's only doing his job. But you know what doesn't seem right? No, no. What doesn't seem right? That funny little guy's so sick. Why don't they take him to a hospital? He shouldn't be moved, Millie. They're treating him all right here. They brought almost a whole hospital here to keep him alive. Wonder what he's got. Who knows? He's so fragile it could be anything from a hangnail on up. I can see it now. Martian visitor, dies of hangnails. Hey, do you suppose the little guy could be part of a plan? Plan? Yeah. He comes here real sick, huh? Okay. So maybe everybody else catches what he's got. You see? Yeah. And everybody dies. And then they invade. Invade? Yeah, you know. What do you call it, warfare? Bia something. Biologic. Yeah. Well, you got to point, Millie, but it's not too probable. Not too probable. So a six-story bowling ball with a little man inside makes a perfect landing in the middle of runway 21. That's probable. Before he even gets out of the thing, he turns green with what the doc says looks like a cross between diphtheria and typhoid fever. Is that probable? No, but Millie, if you talk to this guy... Talk to him. I don't want to get near him. Here's your chocolate. Oh, pardon me. I mean, here is what usually reliable sources tell me is hot chocolate. Thanks, Millie. Don't thank me. You're paying for it. Stranders? Yes. Major Winters would like to see you, sir, in his office. Hey, maybe his change is mine. With my luck, he's probably going to tell me I've been drafted. Major, you want to see me? Oh, yes. Come in, Mr. Stranders. Sit down. You can write your story now if you'd like. I can. The visitor's dead. Dead? He's been dead for almost an hour. Then you know what the last time I was in here? I've been waiting for an autopsy report. You'll see when you read it why I was obliged to keep a news blackout about this whole affair. May I see it? I just got my information by telephone. I'll see that you get the coroner's written report within the next few minutes. I see. In the meantime, you're free to use my telephone to file your story. I'll see that you're not disturbed. All right. The man on the switchboard will place your call for you. And, Anders, if I were you, I'd wait for the coroner's report before writing me up as the villain. Major, you don't mind if I write the truth? No, Mr. Anders, but write all the truth, eh? I will. Hello. Please get me Rhinelander 75111. What city? Los Angeles. Thank you. Oh, hello, Judy. Yeah, this is Lou Anders. Give me the city room, will you, and tie me in with rewrite. Thanks. Hello, Willard. Lou, I got something for you. Now, get this, Will. It'll sound like science fiction, but it's not, and I don't want it rewritten. Just copy it and print it. You ready? All right, here she comes. Dateline, Delano Airport, three miles west of Delano, California, Wednesday, April 21st, 1952. A little more than four hours ago, a spaceship landed at this field. It came from the planet Mars and was flown here by a living Martian. You hurt me. A human being of flesh and blood with the same kind of thoughts, the same kind of emotions, even the same feelings as you and I. I have spoken with this man from Mars, and so have ranking officials of this government. The following is a factual account of the events concerning the strange occurrence. Am I going too fast for you? All right, on April 21st, this reporter, while en route to Delano, California, was stopped at a military road. He was stopped on highway. No, no, no, no, no. I am not going to turn around and go back. I am working for the Los Angeles Daily Post Dispatch. I am on my way to see a man in Delano regarding a story. What kind of a story? That is none of your business, Junior, and I'm not in the Army. So now you might as well save my time, your time, and the Army's time by taking me to your commanding officer. Now, shall we go in your jeep or in my car? Okay, Mac, follow me. But, uh, remember, it was your idea. I'll keep it in mind. Just what did you hope to gain, Mr. Anders? Access to the city of Delano. Why? For my paper. I'm going to see a man who lives there and confirm a story. Would you mind telling me what kind of a story? No. A farmer called the paper and said a strange kind of aircraft had been hovering over his south pasture all morning. Strange kind of aircraft? That's right. A big silver ball. He said it was about twice as big as his barn. He didn't say what size barn. Did he say anything else about it? Yes, yes, he did. He said it glowed, for one thing, and that he'd been taking pictures of it at the Kodak all morning. He called us. I think he could get a pretty good price for his pictures. And he said that he thought somebody ought to know about it. Do you think he called any other newspapers? I don't think so. Sounded pretty good, so we asked him not to. And you wanted an exclusive, huh? Yes. Good. What was this farmer's name? Uh, I'm not at liberty to say it, Major. You know, Mr. Anders, these rumors about flying discs from other worlds can be very dangerous as well as ridiculous. Yes, I thought so, but now I'm not so sure. You've closed one of California's arterial highways, Major. Made a restricted area out of a pretty good size swatch of farmland. You must have a reason. I'll give you eight to one. It isn't war games. I will drive over to the field, and I'll show you why if you want. But you can't write about it, at least not for a while. Uh-huh. And I'll have to ask you not to leave this, the area of this occurrence until you have my permission. This is a pretty big thing, Anders. It's a beginning to look that way. Oh, about those conditions, Major. Have any other papers been admitted? No, and I assure you that none will be. Ah, let's go. Is that what your farmer told you about? Holy cow. Now, would you believe me and go back home if I told you that this was one of our super-secret weapons? No. I didn't think so. And you want to take a look? Let's go. It's been right there in the middle of the runway for the last three hours. It's not on the ground. No. It's hovering about three feet off the ground. It doesn't seem to be equipped with any landing gear at all. Well, Major, I don't want to seem stupid, but what is the thing? This fellow coming toward us should be able to tell us. He's Arnold Griffith of Mount Palomar. Dr. Griffith? Dr. Griffith? Dr. Griffith, this is Lou Anders of the Post-Dispatch. How do you do? How do you do, Dr....? Anything happened? We've found that the glow it gives off is not from heat and it's not radioactive. We don't know what kind of machinery makes the sound, but from sonar sandings we've found that the object seems to be hollow or very nearly so. That's a relief. Relief? Why? Well, there was some conjecture, Mr. Anders, that it might be a guided missile of another power containing explosives. I mean, the missile, not the power. Of course. Wait a minute, though. If it isn't that, then it must be from outer space. That is not necessarily the case, Anders. Major, Dr. Griffith, come quick. We've discovered something. Oh, come on. Listen, sir. Hit it again, Woolly. Well, what's so unusual about... Listen, there's somebody in there. There sure is. I don't like it, Major. I don't like it at all. Lieutenant Woolly, I want cover here. Have all available weapons aimed and ready. Yes, sir. Right away, Major. Wait a minute, Major. Suppose whoever's in there is friendly. Well, whoever he, she, or it is, they're not going to surprise us. I wouldn't make book on it, Major. Hey, what the...? It's coming down. Gentlemen, let's leave. Best idea I've heard lately, Professor. It was a strange sensation watching the landing. I was conscious, and I think the others were. But a big decision had been made by whoever or whatever was at the controls of that strange, fear-shaped machine. The action of landing crushed the base of it like an eggshell. Major, you've got to get that man out of there. We don't know that there is a man in it, Anders. We don't know. It could be a big mistake. Mistake? There's a man in there. You heard him. How do you know? You call that tapping evidence? It could be like opening Pandora's box. What are you, Griffith, a witch doctor? Listen, you. That could still be a guided missile, and it could be that it is from outer space. It could have almost everything. New diseases, almost anything. Still, in the name of science... In the name of science. In the name of God, you'd better do what's right about this. That thing is an aircraft, and it was apparently crash-landed by a human being. Now, you'd better try to get him out, or you'll see what public sentiment can do. And believe me, I'm just the guy that can stir it up. Anders, if you... We're all ready, Major. All right, cut it open. If there's anyone inside, get him out. Yes, sir. You men, come with me. On the double. I'm going over there. Wait a minute, Doctor. Anders, you've had a lot to say since you've arrived here. Well, I've got something to say to you. Don't you ever threaten me with public sentiment or anything else again? With God as my judge, I'm going to try to do my duty as I see it. And, Mr. Anders, I don't need any pencil-pushing newsboy to point it out for me. Lieutenant Woolley. Yes, sir? Take Mr. Anders over to the airport café and see that he stays there till I tell you otherwise. Yes, sir. Am I under arrest? You can call it that, yes. Come on, Doctor. Where are you going? I'll ask your advice just once for the record. If that thing out there that my men are working on with the acetylene torches is a bomb, where do you think I ought to be? Want some more coffee, Lieutenant? No, not right now, thanks. You want some more chocolate? Hey. What? Want me to make some more chocolate? Oh, no, thanks. How are you writing? A letter? He's a newspaper man. You're going to make this place famous, aren't you, Mr. Anders? Oh, you're writing your story, huh? That's right. My name is Mildred Wilson. Oh, W-I-L-S-O-N? Yeah. You get what I mean, huh? Yeah, well, mine's Louie and Anders. Just call me Lou. How do you do? Hey, tell me, Milly. You don't mind if I call you Milly? Not at all. Tell me, Milly, why aren't you out on the field watching things? Aren't you interested? Interested. I'm scared to death of that thing. I don't want to have anything to do with it. Smart girl. Well, at least I'm alive. I'd like to keep it that way. I see. That thing could be a big booby trap, you know? And you're not the booby who's going to be trapped. Yeah. In a manner of speaking, that's right. Don't mind the lieutenant, Milly. He's just bitter. About it being a trap, though, you know that there's somebody inside the thing, human being. There wouldn't be a human being inside a bomb. Oh, no? What about the kamikazes, huh? And who says it's a human being? You read too much science fiction, Milly. All I know is they've been trying to get that thing open since before it got dark so they can let out, who knows what? And when they do... Lieutenant. Yes? Major Winters would like you and Mr. Anders to report to him immediately at the airfield. Keep that light right on the opening. I want it flooded with light. You want us, Major? Oh, yes, Mr. Anders. Looks like you're making quite a production out of this. Lieutenant Woolley, you may return to your company. I'll take care of Mr. Anders. Captain Plague. Sir? I want cover. And remember you're to fire and keep firing until this thing is completely destroyed if anything happens. Whether we're out or not. Yes, sir. What's going on? We're going inside, Mr. Anders. I thought you might like to come along. Of course you realize that you might not come out again. You heard my last order? Yes. Well, let's go. Dr. Griffith. I'm ready. Let's go in. It was a strange sensation entering the sphere. It seemed as we crossed that torn threshold that we were entering into another world. And as we found out later, that was really what we were doing. Looks like the inside of a radio. Wonderful. I mean, wonderful workmanship. Very superior. Major. What do you make of it, doctor? Strange proportions. Look at his chest. Large. He's from a much lighter atmosphere than ours. Would you come closer so that I may see you? I would come to you, but I'm afraid the gravity is much too heavy. We've been wondering the same thing about you. You know? I have been listening to your radio programs for years to be exact. Ten years. They'll never believe this back at Palomar. That is how I learned your language, listening to your radio. Some of your programs were very enjoyable. It made learning your language not so difficult as I thought it would be. According to some of the programs of about two or three o'clock in the day, the males have an easy time in life, while the females are always beset with difficulties. Is that right? The soap operas. He must have been listening to the soap operas. Oh, this is out of this world. A man from space flying around in our atmosphere listening to soap operas. I was making a joke. You'll pardon me if I'm not very funny. I'm just learning. You see, we did not laugh on my planet. Tell me, just why did you come here? There was no other place to go. Life on my own planet had ceased to exist. It is the planet you call Mars. Seized to exist? It was destroyed in our last war. I am the last. You are the last? How do you know? I mean, how can you be sure? You have not seen the great scar across the face of my planet. The great canal of Mars. Oh, no. It is the scar of our last war. Some 300 years ago, by your time, caused by cosmic artillery. This ship, this little planet I've lived in for so long, was the relay station, the reflector for the burst that caused the scar. Wait. If this is true, all this equipment must contain the answer to cosmic energy. To transform the cosmic rays of the sun into tremendous energy. Is that true? It is true. I have been listening to you, to your radio programs, to your news commentators, to the speeches of those in power, all over your world. Your world is not ready for this knowledge. Not ready? Your planet, like mine, grows quickly in knowledge but oh, so slow in understanding. But so much good could be accomplished. Good, yes. But there are forces here working against good and they are very strong. I have been listening. These forces are trying to do what was done on my world. They are trying to force God out of your world. Trying to force God out? They exclude God from the conference table as we did. They would make God's of science and state as we did. They would deny him what is his do and run your world according to their own plan, which is a godless plan. And hear me where God is not. There you will find only evil. Your world is in great danger now and you must remove the danger. Bring God back to your conference tables. Back into your homes and classrooms and don't listen to those who tell you there is another way. A way without God. They will be lying to you. No man, no planet, no solar system can exit. Any pulse? He may not have any major. He seems to be made of a little different pattern than we are. It might be that the pressure here is too great for him. We'll have to get him to an iron lung or decompression chamber to find out. I'll get some help. Medic! Medic! The Martian visitor was kept in an iron lung and breathing almost pure oxygen till just one hour ago. And one hour ago at 827 PST, the last living citizen of Mars, the first Martian ambassador to Earth, died. That's about as far as I've gone, Willard. Except for the coroner's report and major winter's. Oh, wait a minute. He's here with it now. Ah, this line right here. This will tell you what you want to know. Wait a minute, chief. Where? Here. Pneumonic plague. Well, read the rest. It says it only looked like pneumonic plague. Oh, yeah, I see. Hello, Willard. Get this. The army sustained a news blackout for a time because the visitor was feared to have been carrying pneumonic plague. A highly contagious and usually fatal disease. However, the autopsy proved that death was brought on by the formation of nitrogen bubbles in his bloodstream. Yeah, you've heard about it. It's the same thing deep-sea divers get from too much pressure. They call it the bends. And it says here he also had pulmonary complication, breathing trouble. That's right. Our air was just too heavy for him. Okay, that's all. I'll call you if there's anything else. Well, that's that. May I come in? Oh, certainly, Dr. Griffith. Come in. Have a chair. Another ten minutes and it'll be all over. And the secret of cosmic energy will be lost for perhaps another thousand years. What are you talking about? I set fire to the sphere, Mr. Andrews. You what? A few thermite bombs in the right places. You see, Mr. Andrews, Major Winters has done his share. Oh, I see. You're taking the little man's advice. I'm doing my best, too. Mr. Andrews, weren't you saying something earlier this evening about being just the man to stir up public sentiment? Yeah, I guess I did. See, let's go outside and take a closer look. You don't see a thing like this every day. Well, I'd suggest you get some photographs and go, Andrews, while you're still got time. I'm expecting some top brass to land here this evening. When they find out what happened... Hey, Dr. Griffith, wouldn't you say that spontaneous combustion is a dangerous thing? Oh, yes. Oh, yes, I would. In fact, Captain Clegg and some of the other soldiers, we're talking with me about it just a few moments ago. Hello, Major. It's warm this evening, isn't it, sir? Oh, man. Yes, it is, little warm, Captain. Isn't it just terrible, sir, how careless some darn fools can be with a lit cigarette? There's he go! Nothing left. Nothing at all. Hey, Major, your office is... Sergeant, get that fire equipment out there! Captain Clegg, what are you doing? Major, I wouldn't want it up here on the record that we didn't try to put that fire out. You couldn't have that, sir. Looks like we're going to be too late, though. Too bad. Was this your idea, Dr. Griffith? Well, I just told him then what the Martian said, and, well, it seemed like it was too late. And, well, it seemed like it was everybody's idea. Thank you, Doctor. How do you feel about it, Mr. Anders? Accidents will happen, Captain. Well, looks like it has nothing left but the story, so I guess I'll pick up my pictures and go. Major Winters, I don't want to sound corny, but I'd like to shake your hand. My pleasure, Mr. Anders. I hope you're a good reporter, Mr. Anders. Yours is a pretty big job. Reporter? I'm not a reporter anymore, haven't you heard, Doctor? I turned missionary just a few minutes ago. Jane Wyatt again. Although there was a lot of fiction in tonight's play, there were some things in it that were definitely not fiction. Remember when our visitor said, there are forces working to destroy you and your world? That part, tragically, was very true. These forces are at work, and they are trying to exclude God from world activities, trying to replace him with science and state and to run the world according to their own godless plans. Now, we must wage a personal war against these forces, the Communist and the secularist, and see that they make no further inroads here in the United States. How can we do it? We can do it by keeping God in the home through family prayer, for the home is the basic and most important unit of the nation, and family prayer by bringing God into the home, by making a part of the family will strengthen the family and therefore strengthen the nation. Just as the family that prays together stays together, so too a world at prayer is a world at peace. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of. The theater has brought you the visitor starring James Whitmore and Ward Bond. Jane Wyatt was your hostess. Others in our cast were Eve McVeigh, Dave Young, Tom Holland, Howard McNeer, Bob Emlin, and Walter Brennan Jr. The script was written by Robert Q. O'Sullivan with music composed and conducted by Harry Zimmerman, and was directed for Family Theater by Joseph F. Mansfield. This is Tony Lofrano expressing the wish of Family Theater that the blessing of God may be upon you and your home and inviting you to join us next week when Family Theater will present Genius from Hoboken starring Gene Peters and J. Carol Nash. Join us, won't you? This is the Mutual Broadcasting System.