 Radio's own show, Behind the Mic. Radio, with a 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 programs and favorite personalities. Radio people you never heard of, stories as amusing, dramatic and interesting as any make-believe stories you hear on the air. And that's what we give you, the human interests, the glamour, the tragedy, the comedy and information that are behind the mic. And now presenting a man whose name has been a symbol of the best in radio since the beginning of broadcasting, Rayam McNamee. Thank you George Putnam and good afternoon ladies and gentlemen of the radio audience. This week behind the mic shows you how a radio production firm sells a program to a sponsor. You will hear the sound effect of the week, how radio commercials are written, a thrilling story behind a march of time broadcast. And we salute a program you love, Lazy Dan. We answer letters from listeners and finally we bring you a story behind an Austrian freedom station, as told by Rudolph, the man who ran it. A few weeks ago we showed on behind the mic how an advertising agency prepares a program for possible sale to a client. But programs are not only originated by advertising agencies or radio stations. They are very often created by independent radio production firms. And so now we're going to show how a radio production firm tries to sell an original program to a prospective sponsor. Here's a man who can tell us all about it, Bill Koblenze, sales manager of the radio production firm of Wolf Associate. Bill, what is the radio production firm? It's an organization that primarily originates programs and sells them to sponsors or tries to, and tries it more like it most of the time. Then we either direct and cast it ourselves or hand it over to the agency and take a commission. Well, you don't try to sell a program directly to the sponsor, do you, Bill? Well, mostly we work through the advertising agency. Bill, your firm produces many shows. For instance, the O'Neill's Happy Birthday on NBC. So you ought to be able to tell us how is a show sold to a sponsor. Well, Graham, suppose we show how it's done in a little dramatization. It's a hypothetical case, but the details have all happened in selling programs. Okay, Bill, take it away. Our scene opens in the office of our producer, who will call by the fictitious name of Joe Clark. He's in conference with a couple of salesmen who work for his firm. All right, now, fellas, bear with me one minute. Look, I have something to say. No, wait, look, fellas, I think this famous minstrel show is something that should be sold. It's got a novel idea. It gives people famous in fields other than entertainment a chance to take their hair down in a minstrel show. Now, we've got names, famous politicians, famous writers, famous artists, all people who can entertain, play a banjo or sing or something. They'll all take part in this famous minstrel show, see? I think the show has everything. I do, too, Joe. It's got names and entertainment. It's good, particularly right now, too, when people want to laugh. Sure. Now, here's the printed presentation for you, fellas, to take around and show your clients. This book has all the arguments in it to convince advertising agencies that it's a good show. It tells how much the show will cost and why it'll cost. Everything's here, the orchestra, comedians, writers, all itemized so that the agency can get a clear picture. I've had 25 copies of this book set up, and we're going to show them around to the heads of the radio departments of all the advertising agencies. Look, Joe, I've got an idea. Now, instead of taking this book around ourselves, since it's a minstrel show, let's hire some postal telegraph messengers to black up and take this presentation around and announce when they come into an office. Next day, in the office of the heads of the radio department of 25 different advertising agencies, this scene is enacted. Well, Mr. Revere, there's a postal. He's all blacked up. All blacked up. Send him in. Well, I'll be tall gone. This presentation tells about a new radio program, y'all. Well, I'll... A presentation of a new radio program. Let me look at this. Well, I'll be tall gone. The next step is for Joe and his salesmen to start getting in touch with the heads of the radio department to whom they present the program. Oh, Jack, I wanted to see about this new show of ours. Well, Joe, I've been looking over the presentation and it seems interesting, but frankly, we haven't a client who could use this type of show. Right now, we're looking for a good daytime cereal, but I'll keep it in mind in case we can use it. Joe, we have a client who's in the market for a show, but he hasn't got much money to spend. What's the cost of that show again? You can do it for $2,500, exclusive of the radio time cost. Well, my client can only spend $1,500. Could you do it for that? Tom, I possibly might, but I wouldn't. Why not? Well, because the show couldn't be done right. We'd have to cut down on the cast and the quality of the program. Wouldn't get the audience it could if it was done for $2,500. And after it was on the air for a little while, you'd be dissatisfied with it and you'd blame me. I'd lose a good contact and a good friend, too. No, Tom, I guess I'll just take it elsewhere. We have a client, Joe, that might go for it. This thing looks good on paper, but well, I'd like to hear it. Will you record an audition? Sure, if you're interested enough in it. Well, I submitted the show to the account executive and he thinks the client will go for it. Well, so Joe invests anywhere from a thousand to $3,000 in paying for his cast, his orchestra, his writer, his director, his engineer, his sound effects man and his recording. Then they record the show. He takes it back to the advertising agency and the recording of famous minstals is played. And then? Well, how do you like it, Frank? Oh, we like it fine, Joe. Everybody in the office thought it was swell. When are you going to sign the contract? Well, um, well, Joe, you see, the client went to a nightclub last night and he heard some new orchestra and singer and he likes them so well he's going to buy them for the show. They're good, all right. They're going to go places. But I think your show would be better. But he's doing the buying. Okay, Frank, we'll try someplace else. And the audition record makes the round. Months go by and then one day. Tell you what we're going to do, Joe. We've got a tobacco account that's set to go on the air, time bought and everything, but they haven't a show. Our client is going to get 2,500 of his employees men because the show is to appeal to men and he's going to audition four different shows before these men. Mhmm. Yours is one of them and we'll play the record you made. The show that gets most of the votes is the one he's going to buy. Is that okay with you? Why not? I have nothing to lose and we've got a good show. After the audition is over. Well... Attention, everybody. We've just tabulated the votes. 80% of the votes have been cast for famous men's shows and that's the show we're going to buy to sell our product. I think that's a good bet. You, thank heavens we've sold it at last. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is a composite picture of how a radio program is sold by a production agency. And thank you, Bill Coltan, sir, for supplying the information which made this spot possible. The sound effect of the week. From time to time behind the mic presents some unusual sound effect which was used on the air and tells exactly how it was done. On the Colonel Stoopnagle Stump Club program this past week, which is sponsored by a beer company, during the commercial the Colonel was supposed to open a bottle of beer. A comedy sound effect was used. The Colonel opening the bottle of beer sounded like this. Sounds more like a beer creak to me. This catastrophe was produced first by a couple of fruit tills being smashed. Then an explosion record played while two panes of glass were crashed and then the explosion was faded down and a record of a waterfall was played. Once more, Colonel Stoopnagle opens a bottle of beer. And pays and pays. The woman? Oh, the sponsor. You said it, kid. He's the bird that really makes radio possible. Yes, those little commercial announcements plugging the product certainly are important in this business. They're so important that this afternoon we've invited the head radio commercial writer of one of the biggest advertising agencies, Young and Rubicam, to tell us all about old man commercial. Our guest is Joseph Moran. Joe, everyone knows that the idea of a good commercial is to create a desire in the listener to buy the product you're advertising. Graham, you sound like you've been in radio before. Well, I'm going to try to make a career of it sometimes, Joe. But anyway, what does the sponsor look for in his commercials? Well, Graham, one of the most important things to him is sponsor identification. By that I mean that the listener should not only remember the program and the star, but also the sponsor's product, the little thing which, after all, makes the whole show possible. Well, suppose the commercial is really good. What percentage of the listeners do remember the sponsor? Oh, anywhere from 50 to 95 or 98 percent. What program has the highest sponsor identification? In our shop, Graham, the Jack Benny show. Why do people remember the product, which I think is some dessert or other in Jack's case? Well, the name of the product is often mentioned as many as 40 times. 40 times, Joe? Remember, the program starts right off with Don Wilson announcing the sponsor's product program. Then a quartet singing J-E-L-L as the sponsor's product. Jack starts off by saying, uh, sorry, the sponsor's product again, everybody. And yet it never becomes obnoxious. I suppose that's because you sort of kid the product. Oh, no, Graham, we never do that, even though it may seem like it. The actors are kidding, but the product never. Well, what must a good commercial have, Joe? It could be long enough to sell the product, and it must hold the listeners' interest while it's doing it. Generally speaking, it should have one central theme and put over one point or related point. Because, obviously, it's easier to remember one thing than a whole lot of them. Putting over the sale story with conviction depends greatly on the announcement. Our commercials are written in the style of the one who's going to announce them. We don't write them for just any Tom Dick or Harry Von Zell. Which do you consider better, the dramatized commercial or the straight talk commercial? That depends on the product, Graham. If it's an old established product and everybody knows practically everything about it, and if the case is telling the same story over again, then usually a dramatized or device commercial is much better. But if you've got something new, for instance, let's say some new vitamin has been added to the product, then you've got real news, and a straight commercial should hold the interest. Well, how do you determine whether a commercial should be serious or comic? Well, that again depends on the product and the program. Take Benny's show. The product is a light, appetizing dessert. It's universal in appeal, so we want it to reach everybody. So the commercial is in keeping with the dessert. It's, frankly, lightly written in a staccato manner, and the straight commercial is backed by music. On the other hand, we have the silver theater in which the products are silver plate and sterling silver. Well, since buying silver is naturally a more serious problem to the average listener than spending a few cents for dessert, our overall approach is more serious. We try to give the commercials the same aura of glamour and tradition that makes the silver desirable. Commercials are more gracious and smooth. When you mentioned vitamins before, I hope you don't mean to infer that your silver now is full of vitamins. Well, thanks for the idea, Graham. We'll take it over. Joe, how much commercial announcement do the network permit you to have? Well, on NBC, on nighttime network shows, three minutes and a half hour. For a daytime network show, three minutes and 15 seconds for 15-minute programs, and four minutes and 30 seconds for a half-hour program. Oh, roughly, it averages about 10% of the showtime for commercials. Joe, there's one question that I'm sure has puzzled a lot of listeners. Why do sponsors break up their programs? Some of them very interesting dramas with a commercial right back in the middle of the show. Well, Graham, that goes back to your problem of sponsor identification. By surveys, it's been found that more people are listening to the program in the middle than at any other time, and naturally, you want to get your sales message across to the greatest listening audience. Well, Joe, before you go, there's just one more little question that still puzzles me. What is it, Graham? Who really sponsors Jack Benny? Rochester. Here's a true story of the intense drama that goes on behind the mic. This ironic tale actually happened. Many of you remember the March of Time, the daily dramas of news events. Each day, the staff got together to dramatize the news events as they came off the wire. And one day, the 3rd of September in 1935, Hey, Joe, if we only had a human interest spot, we'd have a swell show for tonight. I heard something that just came in from Philadelphia. Yeah, what's it about? The flash here says Acre dies of heart failure on opening night of new show. That's all we have, Charlie, except that it's Lenore Ulrich's show. Poor fellow. I suppose he couldn't stand the excitement. Get me the details. Well, you will dramatize. OK, Charlie, I'll call Philly and maybe equity here at himself. Right. Jack. Yes, Charlie? Look, let's get hold of a cast for this thing. I need somebody to imitate Lenore Ulrich. Agnes Moorhead ought to be able to do that, ask her. Yeah, I'll get it. And for the actor, let me see. How about that actor who was anxious to break in a radio and kept calling for appointment? Well, you liked his audition. Remember the long interview you gave him? Oh, yes, yes, sure, of course. Say, is he still coming in every day? Oh, he hadn't been in for a while. I guess he's becoming discouraged after so many months of no job. Well, I'm sorry, but we've never had a chance for him. Get him now. His name is Bart or something. Yeah, William Bart. I'll get his phone number. Thanks. Hey, Joe, you got the dope on the Ulrich spot yet? Yeah, here it is. Players called Portuguese gal. It opened last night in Philly. The park calls for the man playing Lenore Ulrich's husband to come in at the head of a flight of stairs. Well, last night he came on, wobbled a bit, and then collapsed over the banister. Doctors say he was so excited getting his great chance at last, his heart wouldn't stand a strain. Oh, poor guy. I suppose he just about gave his life to get a chance to act. Charlie, here you are. Here's the phone number of William Bart. William Bart? Yeah, William Bart. We're going to give him a chance. He should be able to imitate the actor perfectly. But the man who dropped dead last night was William Bart. Even 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. And this afternoon behind the mic salutes Lazy Dan, whose real name is Irving Kaufman. Lazy Dan was on the air weekly from 1933 to 1937. Irving Kaufman portrayed the comic misadventures of a colored porter working in a hardware store as well as all the other characters in the script. And here's a bit from Lazy Dan. As the scene opens, we're in Joan's hardware store and we find Jim Jones talking to Lazy Dan. Well, Dan, are you and the boys ready for the minstrel show? Yes, Mr. Jim. I am. But the rest of the boys ain't here yet. They could... We'll look at who... Here he is. Here's Mr. Flanagan now. Hello there, Mr. Flanagan. Well, the top of the morning to you boys and how are you? Yeah, glad to see you. And right behind him is Mr. Cohn. Hello there, Mr. Cohn. Well, cheerio, my friends. Cheerio and a pip pip. Yeah, pip pip to you too. And here's Mr. Raviola. Hello, Mr. Raviola. Yeah, you betcha my life it's a Raviola. How do you feel it, kids, huh? Yeah, glad to see you. With Doug gone, look at who's right beside him. Charlie the Launderman. Hello there, Charlie. Mingo, singla, tongi, me tongi, songa, longi, tongi, tolingo. Yeah, you took the words right out of my mouth. All right, boys. Now, Dan, suppose you get the boys ready and rehearse that number we're doing for the minstrel show. Now, I'll start the first course myself and then you boys can help out. Is that okay? Yes, Mr. Jones. Go ahead, you start and we'll help out. That you get from worry. That you get from pain. Take it, Dan. That you get from longing. Brrr. But if blue is blue, that one can see. All right, but what about your friends? Are they gonna sing? Yes, they're gonna sing. Come on, boys, get in front of this microscope. And when I call you out, don't forget to come in. Are you all ready now? Well, here we go. There are blues. That you get from tweeting. When she pulls to another guy taking Mr. Flanigan. And there are blues when your honey spins on the ticket, Mr. Corn. And blues when she's telling you. Bum, bum, bum, bum, bum, there are blues. That you get then married. Take it, Mr. Raviola. Hey, look, a boss, they got a blues. Say, when you're gonna be free. Take it, Charlie. Song in English. What are you doing today? What am I doing today, Graham? Well, I've got a program of my own on another network. And I'm doing a lot of songs in commercial announcements. What's the best known commercial song you're doing? The one that ends up with... I'm not so bad, you good old USA. So are all of us. So are all of us, Irving. I mean Lazy Dan. No, I don't. I mean Irving Kauffman. Letters from listeners. Junior Vogel of New York asked this question. While listening to the radio late in the morning, I heard a number of short and long beeps. It sounded like code, but I'm familiar with code, and I know it wasn't. Can you tell me what these sounds were? You are probably hearing facsimile broadcasting. In facsimile broadcasting, printed words and pictures are sent through the air and they are reproduced at home. To receive this type of service, you must have a special facsimile receiving unit. Altollaries of Chicago asks, has Billy Mills, the orchestra leader, been in radio at any length of time? Well, just to give you an idea, on June 17th, he will complete his 10,000th broadcast when he conducts the orchestra for Fibre McGee and Molly. Incidentally, he remains as band leader for the summer show, replacing Fibre McGee and Molly, the program which will star Ransom Sherman. Spencer Alexander of Washington Diggs, he asks, whose sponsor is the radio program? The world is yours. The world is yours is an unsponsored educational program produced by NBC under the auspices of the Smithsonian Institution. It celebrates its fifth anniversary on the air next week. Sylvia Shore of Miami, Florida asks, will the sponsor of the Eddie Cantor show stay on the air in the summer? Yes, the sponsor will fill Cantor's place with a quiz show which is not as yet titled. Announcement will be made very soon. Thank you, George Putnam. Thank you. As you know, in many countries in Europe, the people are only permitted to hear what their government wishes them to hear through government-controlled radio stations. And yet within these countries, or near their borders, are courageous men and women who, opposing the government, broadcast at the risk of their lives the truth as they see it to their fellow men. Today, we have as a guest a young man who is in charge of one of these freedom stations. He is known by the name of Rudolph, and here he is. Will you tell us how these freedom stations originated? Well, Graham, the first freedom station was established by Otto Strasser. Otto Strasser was one of the first of the Nazis. In 1932, Strasser revolted against the Nazi policies and fled the country. He established the first freedom station in Czechoslovakia. What is the purpose of such a freedom station, Rudolph? First, to give information to the people, to bring them news which they can't get within their own country and to show them what is really going on in the world, particularly the way that democracies regard their way of living and their policies. This information is most important because it undermines the faith of the people in their leader and in their cause. These stations urge resistance and sabotage inside the country. They appeal to the women to form an inner front, pointing out how useless it is to sacrifice their husbands and sons and urge them to make peace with the world. What happened to this first freedom station? It was headed by a young man named Ernest Formis, who was a member of the Strasser Black Front, which was the anti-Nazi party. As I said, it broadcast from inside Czechoslovakia. It got more and more listeners inside Germany. Finally, the Nazis sent a 22-year-old girl to Czechoslovakia and Formis fell in love with her. She made appointment with him in a forest and when he arrived there, instead of the girl, he found two Nazi agents who shot him and fled over the border. The station continued? Oh, yes. Many freedom stations ran inside Germany. They began to use mobile transmitters in automobiles so that it would be more difficult to locate them. What was the penalty if you were found operating one of these stations? Yes, of course. Where did you operate your station? When England and France entered the border, they immediately set up freedom stations. I had the Austrian freedom station in Normandy. We were on the air two hours daily. What did you broadcast? Well, for one thing, we broadcast cultured subjects that were forbidden within the Reich. For instance, a broadcast would be something like this. Then what else would you do, Rudolf? Well, besides that, we would give news. We'd make jokes at the expense of the political party in power. Because we have always found that ridicule is a strong weapon. Did you have a large audience? We didn't need one grand. If a few people heard us, they would whisper to their friends and in that way what we said would spread like wildfire throughout the country. Well, didn't the Germans try to stop your station from functioning? Oh, yes, they would try to jam our station. What do you mean by jamming? They would operate six stations on the same wavelength as ours and play very loud records so that anybody listening to our station would hear confusion of those jamming records instead of hearing us. What did you do to counteract that? Several things. We would change our wavelength every day and the jamming stations would have to follow us up and down the wavelength to find out where we were and change their wavelength to suit. They would only jam when we were speaking because jamming is a very expensive process. So what we did to beat that was to play a record and then fade the record down in the mill and talk and thus catch the Nazis unaware. By the time they started jamming, we'd finish talking and we would just play music again. And how did they catch people who were listening to your station? Well, let's say somebody was listening to us. Counter... Music. I don't know any more than you do. Staple. Oh, listening to a freedom station. You're both under arrest. How was this done, Rudolph? Well, the Germans would set up mobile stations in automobiles. These stations were on the same wavelength as the freedom station. They would play loud records as they drove through the streets. If you were listening to a freedom station and the mobile transmitter playing loud records would pass your door, your radio would pick up their broadcast and blare. Following this mobile transmitter was another car full of Gestapo. The secret police. They'd trace the blare and you'd be under arrest and in a concentration camp. Are these freedom stations still being operated, Rudolph? Yes. From England and from within the occupied countries themselves. Well, now tell me, what are you doing in the United States now, Rudolph? I'm lecturing and I've taken out my first citizenship papers and I'm becoming an American citizen. A citizen of a country that needs no freedom station because here, Graham, you can hear the truth. That was mighty well said, Rudolph, and very informative. Thank you very much, Rudolph. Behind the mic we'll show you how the broadcast by which the English children in America speak to their parents is set up. You will hear a story behind South American radio. We salute an artist you love. Famous cellist Yasha Bunchak. And you will hear more of the tragedy, the comedy and the glamour that are found behind the mic. This is Graham McRomey speaking. Good afternoon, all. Behind the mic is written by Mort Lewis. Original music composed by Ernie Watson. Conducted by Norman Poetier. This is the Blue Network of the National Broadcasting Company.