 Radio's own show, Behind the Mic. With a switch of a dial, radio brings you tragedy, comedy, entertainment, information, education, a whole world at your command. There are stories behind radio, stories behind your favorite program, and favorite personalities and radio people you never hear 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 interests, the glamour, the tragedy, the comedy. And now, presenting a man whose name, since the beginning of broadcasting, has been a byword in radio, Graham McNamee. Thank you, Gil Martin, and good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen of the radio audience. Those of you who are comedy program addicts know that the most important part of any laugh show is the genus Stooges, or common garden variety Stooges, by which we mean a subsidiary comedy character. We had a male Stooges on this program a few weeks ago, and just for the sake of variety this afternoon, we're going to bring you one of the best female Stooges in the business, Minerva Pius, the only woman member of Fred Allen's mighty Allen Art Players. Here she is, ready to give you the woman's angle on Stoogedom, Minerva Pius. Minnie, suppose you give us an idea of the sort of characters you play. Well, Graham, on Fred Allen's show, I play all kinds of parts. I might be a glamour girl, you know, the kind who says to the butler, Jeeves, we're entertaining tonight. Put some shoe blacking on the BB shot and serve it for Caviar. Sometimes I play a tough character. Well, it's just like I'm telling you, he threw a chair at me and I hit him on the head with a gravy boat. Then he pulls my hair, so I socks him in the eye. And the next thing you know, we find ourselves fighting, you know what I mean? Or I play fringe dialect like this. Or sometimes I play the part of an Irish Colleen. Or other times, a Denis Swede straight out of the boat. I also do Polish, English, Scotch, Russian, and what have you. That's quite a list. Minerva, do you feel that to become a Stooges on the radio, you've got to have theatrical experience beforehand? Well, not necessarily, Graham. I didn't have any stage experience before I went on the air. I was just a power comic. Well, how in the world were you able to do so many dialects? Well, I guess it's because I've got a natural ear for dialects. If I hear one, I'm able to imitate it. You've done these on shows besides Fred Allen's? Yes, Graham. I've worked for Robert Benchley, Dr. Rockwell, and quite a few other comedians. There's one other character you didn't mention you do on the Fred Allen show that I think is wonderful. Graham, do you mean the lady that talks with a dialect but touches template like this? That's it, Minnie. That's it. Well, as that character, you did a valedictory poem on one of Fred Allen's programs last year that I thought was marvelous. I wonder if you'd do it this afternoon. Just for me, will you? Just to demonstrate one of your best characters. I think you went into it something like this, introduced by Fred Allen. And now, last and by all means least, a young lady who was outstanding in her class, Miss Bubbles Rappaport, and your alma mater, Miss Rappaport. I am graduating, Mrs. Rabinowitz, as finishing but positively school. I see. You were really the life of the school, I presume. Socially, I am excelling. Studying, I'm surpassing. You studied languages? Nasty Paz. Nasty Paz? Oh, this is French. French, I'm speaking like a pheasant. Oh, something tells me you were the life of the graduation exercises. Yes, I recited that poem. It happened to be by Bubbles Rappaport. Bubbles? Why, that's you. Who else? What was the title of your class poem, Bubbles? Vassville Stew, Girls of 1940. That's very nice. How does it go? Vassville Stew, Girls of 1940. As out into the world we go. Some to Scranton, some to Oakland, some to Troy and Ohio. Girls of 1940, panda. Are you weak or are you strong? Will you wear the housewife's apron or the wicked sly sarong? Will you buckle down to business? Will you travel, take a tour? Will you turn to monkey business, thinking only I'll have more to do? Vassville Stew, Girls of 1940. Facing life, don't play the fool. Let our motto be Eureka. Girls of Mrs. Rabinowitz is finishing but positively schooled. Bravo, bravo, and thank you, Miss Bubbles Rappaport. Thank you, Minerva Fias. Thank you. Since quiz programs are one of radio's most popular forms of entertainment, we feel that no behind-the-mic series of programs would be complete without at least one spot on quiz shows. So we have invited the man who conducts one of radio's most popular quiz programs up here to give you some interesting behind-the-scenes information about quizzes. Here he is, Uncle Jim of Uncle Jim's Question B. Uncle Jim, one of the things I'm sure our listeners would like to know is how are the questions selected that you ask your audience? Well, Graham, two dollars are given for each question submitted by a listener and used on our program. So naturally, each week we get thousands of letters containing questions. As a kind of first elimination, we have four girls read the letters and select what they consider the best questions. Then the questions are gone over again to the man who produces the show. The questions he selects are sent over to our sponsor's advertising agency where a few more questions are eliminated. Then finally, I look them over myself and the ones that remain are eligible to be used on the show. Is that the general procedure on most quiz programs? Yes, I think so. Well, what type of question do you prefer to get? Well, first of all, questions that are not too difficult, questions within the knowledge of the average person. Then, of course, we like our questions to be worded in ways that are out of the ordinary. For instance, well, here's an example. One question we used was this. Italy is shaped like a boot. If the boot would kick a ball, what direction would the ball go? And I don't mean up. The answer is toward, is, of course, toward the Western Hemisphere. Now, of course, that question could have been worded simply in what direction does Italy face. But that wouldn't have been nearly as good, and we probably wouldn't have used it on our program. Do you mind giving us another example of the type of question you like to get? That is one worded in an unusual way. Well, yes, here's another one we used. What doctor is spoken of in this rhyme? And this was the rhyme. Way up north where the climate is shivery, he burst into fame by a special delivery. And the answer is, of course... Hot doctor default. Why, you take the words right out of my mouth, Graham. That's a beyond shame. Now, Uncle Jim, let's take the other angle. What type of question do you consider bad, one that you would definitely not use? Well, for one thing, we don't like questions that are technical, such as what are Kepler's three laws. I don't know, but I'm writing my congressman to get them repealed. And you a star. Well, we also don't like questions about obscure technical terms used in a little-known profession like taxidermy. Questions we particularly dislike are ambiguous ones. Questions that can be answered in two or more ways when one answer is requested. Can you give us an example? Well, yes, a good example of that is this. Who is the highest-ranking officer of the United States Army? The president, of course. Well, that's the correct answer according to the Constitution. But that question might be taken to mean who is the highest-ranking active military officer in the United States Army, in which case it would be the chief of staff. Unless the question is made more definite, there might be two answers. And whichever one was given, we'd get hundreds of phone calls from people claiming that the other one was right. So we try to eliminate questions like that entirely. On what type of subject are most of the questions sent in? We get more questions about presidents than anything else. Questions like, who was our bachelor president? Well, who was James Buchanan? Quite certainly. I knew him intimately. Well, thanks, Uncle Jim, for some very interesting information about quiz shows. Oh, incidentally, as long as we have a quiz expert, like yourself, up here, I'd like to ask you something that's been bothering me for a long, long time. Oh, well, now, Graham, if it's not too technical, I'll be glad to answer it. What's your question? Who is Yehudi? I'm sorry, Graham. That's what we call too technical. How to tease in radio. Presenting odd little true stories that help make radio sometimes amusing, sometimes exasperating, but always interesting to the people in it. This week's oddity concerns Ted Malone, whose program, Between the Book Ends, is a popular NBC feature. Recently, Ted was involved in a most unusual experience. Ted very often starts his broadcast by trying to make each woman listener feel that he is addressing her alone. In one broadcast, he began by saying, Hello there. What are you doing? Well, can I help you? Maybe I could if you'd show me how. Oh, now don't get mad, I was just offering to help. A couple of days later, he received a letter from a listener who informed him that he was leaving for the office right after lunch and was kissing his wife. When Ted's program went on the air and the listener couldn't resist holding a conversation with Ted's radio voice, this is exactly what happened. Remember, he was just kissing his wife and Ted went on the air with his opening remarks. You hear that, honey? Mr. Malone, I'm kissing my wife. Well, can I help you? No, thanks. This is one job I can take care of myself. Maybe I could if you'd show me how. Now listen, brother, I told you I could take care of this. I don't get mad, I was just offering to help. And that is a real radio oddity. The ending beside me at the microphone is the very competent supervising director of one of America's most popular programs, one specializing in human interest stories. The program is We the People. Our guest, Mr. Adrian Samish. Adrian, about how many guests do you have on We the People each week? Well, that varies, Graham, but I'd say between a seven and eight on an average. And how do you find these people with such interesting stories in the first place? Well, Graham, we get leads both from letters written to us by listeners telling us their own stories or from newspaper items which come to us. We have a staff of people who read all this material and investigate the most interesting stories. These are the stories that make up We the People. Adrian, I understand that at times you go to considerable trouble to bring guests to your program. I have in mind that father and son story you told me. Would you mind telling our audience that story as an example of what you sometimes do to make it possible for people to appear on your program? All right, Graham. To begin at the beginning, an item in a newspaper was brought to our attention about a young man who, together with a couple of other fellows, had been jailed for stealing an auto. He had escaped from the rogue gang of a southern penitentiary and had ridden 750 miles by freight to reach his home in Oklahoma. His father, instead of hiding the boy, decided that he must pay his debt to society and he personally escorted his son back to jail to serve out the rest of his sentence. Well, that father struck us as being a man who would have something of great interest to say on We the People. What'd you do about it? Well, Graham, we first wrote him a letter and asked him if he would be willing to appear on the program to tell his story. He wrote us in return that the story would be more about his son and about himself. And he added, the boy would be pardoned on September 1st. His letter was written on August 11th. Well, that immediately gave us an idea as to how much better the interview would be if we also had the son on the program. So I phoned the father and told him that he wanted to invite his son to appear with him on our program. He said that would be all right. Well, September 1st went by and we got another letter from the father saying that his boy had not been released. For some reason or other, his pardon had not come through. What'd you do then, Edwin? Well, it seemed rather strange. So to see what we could find out, we contacted one of the state officials and he told us that the boy would soon be pardoned. As time went by, nothing happened. So he phoned the father and suggested that he get in touch with the same official. We thought that as the boy's father, he would be more in a position to get action. But more time went by and still no pardon. That was a shame. Yes, it was, Graham. And as a last resort, I phoned the governor of the state. I explained the situation to him that the boy had been promised a pardon and for some reason it had been skipped. He said he would investigate the matter and call me back. The next day, the governor was on the phone. He said he appreciated our bringing this to his attention and he had found that the boy should have received his pardon on September 1st and steps would be taken to release him immediately. Then I asked the governor if he would pardon the son on our program. I said we would cut him in from the state capitol and I added that in this way, the country would learn from the governor's own lips that his state caught in the proper case tempered justice with mercy. And did the governor consent? Yes, Graham, he did. And the boy was released from prison. The young man and his father made an appearance on We The People and with the rest of the country heard the governor issue the pardon over the air. Another good deed had been accomplished through the medium of radio. Thank you, Adrian Sammy. Behind the mic salutes a program you love. We in radio believe that radio has a tradition of which it can well be proud. Bobby Jones had just annexed the National Amateur Golf Crown. At Notre Dame, the four horsemen ran rampant over the football field and made themselves their alma mater and their coach, Newt Rockney, the giants of football. Douglas Fairbanks created his latest film sensation, The Thief of Baghdad. And the loud speakers of those tuned to the National Democratic Convention echoed time and time again the cry of... L.F.W. Underwater. 1924. When the station furthest west on NBC's National Hookup was Davenport, Iowa, and one of radio's most popular programs was two blackface songsters, the Goldust twins, Goldie and Dusty. This afternoon, let us recreate a few moments of that program with the original Goldie and Dusty, Earl Tuckerman and Harvey Hindermeyer, the Goldust twins. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. The Goldust twins are with us again, being sent by their sponsors who engage these facilities as a tribute to the users of their products. We now present Goldie and Dusty, who will sing their usual opening song. Good evening to you white folks and colored folks. How do we work all day? Now it's time to play, so we might as sing for you. A good old time, some ditties that were famous years ago. Although they may be new to you, Jesus, branded, he'll know. So do everybody listening in. Don't matter the near or we're quite a bright in every corner. You know that was mighty nice, Dusty, it was. Yes, sir, she was perfect. His mind and eyes were always having two. Did you notice that? No, I didn't notice that. Don't you find that I might cold and sharp, maybe? Well, sure enough and sharp. That reminds me of the next song we're going to sing. I'll cut you with this. He's got to do something with something awful sharp. You know that old razor's in the air? Boy! Come my love and go with me Come my love and meet you Take you down to Tennessee Meet you by and by Wipe your eyes and don't you cry Come my love and meet you I'll be back so don't you sigh Meet you by and by Moses hold the corn Get away from that window Have you got time for any more? Yes, one more. Listen, I'll get your hand out of the way. Here we come. This is sad. Old man has done gone to rest Come my love and meet you Dress yourself up in your best Meet you by and by To the possum we will run Come my love and meet you Soon he'll make us dockies Meet you by and by Moses hold the corn Thank you, Goldie and Dusty. Every day at any time of day Goldie and Dusty, the Goldust twins, come into your homes and work hard to wash your cares away and brighten the corner where you are. And once a week they take you completely into their confidence when they sing and joke for you by way of radio. And now, folks, Goldie. Him, Dusty. Meet you all. Good night. Suckerman and Harvey Hindemeyer, the original Goldust twins. Each week we invite the listeners of Behind the Mic to write us questions about radio and the three or four to be of most general interest. We have answered on the air by the radio editor of some outstanding newspaper or magazine. Tonight's questions will be answered by Wilson Brown, Eastern Editor of Movie Radio Guide Magazine. Miss Grace McIntosh of New York City asks, do actors ever play more than one part in the same dramatic sketch? Yes, Miss McIntosh. They very often play more than one part. Most actors are so versatile that they are capable of playing several parts in the same show without the audience detecting the similarity in voices. Mrs. Leo Lowell of Beverly Hills, California asks this question. If you have an idea for a new radio program, how do you go about selling it? There are several ways you can go about trying to sell your program idea, Mrs. Lowell. You can outline it or write the entire script and send it to the continuity department of one of the networks. You can send or take it to an advertising agency. I suggest that you at first take it to an agency that has a lot of accounts and therefore would have more opportunity to use it. If the idea has to do with comedy material, you might mail it to the comedian you have in mind or to his agent. In most cases, the comedian or his agent will at least read it. This next question is an amazing coincidence. In view of the fact that the last spot on today's program is devoted to the person about whom our letter writer asks. The letter is from Hollace McKim of 355 California Avenue, Oakmont, Pennsylvania. She asks, if we can advise her as to the name of the person who played the violin and took the part of Don Amezzo on the old program for Missola Syrup. And is he playing on any program today? Well, the persons who played the violin and spoke the lines of Don Amezzo were two different men. One of them, the violinist, was Godfrey Ludlow. At present, I don't believe he's on the air. The speaking part of Don Amezzo was done by Colonel Charles T. Davis. Thank you, Wilson Brown, for answering those questions. Thank you. As I have said, we in radio believe that radio has a tradition of good programs that lingers fondly in our memory. But it has something more than that. It has splendid tradition of radio pioneers, people who have acted in programs who have created them and who have helped to make radio what it is today. And here is news commentator John B. Kennedy to pay tribute to one of the finest of these pioneers, Colonel Charles T. Davis. He has a most unusual and dramatic story to tell. John B. Kennedy. None of us who are associated with Colonel Charles T. Davis in radio can ever forget him. I worked with him on the old college's hour on which he collaborated with my old friend Malcolm La Prade. Colonel Davis Graham was a most unusual man. He was a retired English army officer who had served in India in Mesopotamia. He was bronzed of medium height and quite handsome. I've always thought it amazing that an Englishman with his background should in the early 20s, when radio was quite new, see the possibilities that American radio had and should become a radio writer, director and actor. Two of the most famous characters he acted were Old Man Donaldson and Don Amazo. Isn't that so, John? That's right, Graham. One of the most famous characters in early radio, and he with Malcolm La Prade, was the first writer to do dramatizations of motion pictures for radio. For the college's hour, the first magazine of the year which started in 1927 was really his baby. He helped write the script. He cast it and he acted roles in it. And that program itself was a real pioneer. For instance, one day before rehearsal, we were talking in the studio. What do you think of that idea, sir? I think it's all right, John. I don't see why we shouldn't have people in the studio watching our broadcast. What do you say, Fred? Colonel, it's never been done. Just because no other programs have had an audience in the studio is no reason why we shouldn't. Yes, but it's disillusioning for people to see as reading scripts. We can't keep this thing a mystery forever. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if some day almost all programs had people in the studio watching them. Well, Colonel, it's certainly an innovation. It wouldn't be our first. After all, here we are on a Sunday night program and people said we would never dare play popular music on a Sunday night. But we did, and now a lot of other programs are doing the same thing. And now a few people have your scripts so you'd better start rehearsing. Sometime in 1929, the Colonel became very ill. But he continued directing the program, helping to write it and to act in it. He had to undergo a very serious operation which he postponed until the show was off the air for the summer of 1929. Shortly before we returned to the air, he had his second serious operation. But he kept in touch with the program even though he was far too ill to work on it or to attend to the broadcasts. I never can and I never shall forget the College of Art broadcast of January the 12th, 1930. It comes to me again quite vividly. We were broadcasting from the large on what was called the cathedral studio of the old NBC building on Fifth Avenue. The cast was on the stage and in front sat an eager audience. Our cast was in the midst of a dramatization of a current College story. Don't get the idea. I'm afraid of her. She did go down to see Joe Smythe this afternoon. Oh, and you aren't sure as to what she might do, are you? No, I wouldn't be a bit surprised if she's up to something. I feel she knows more about the murder than she lets on. Colonel, this was a surprise. Eh, Jollywell had to come over just to see how things were coming. Well, old man, how do you feel? Splendid, old man. Splendid. But Colonel, John, there's a broadcast going on. Well, I'm certainly glad to see you here. Well, there's enough now. What's the difference? You might as well hang for two hours. Graham, the Colonel sat in the studio during the rest of the broadcast. He was terribly ill. But he was just as interested in everything that went on as when he was helping direct the show and write the script. His courage never deserted him for one moment. But the most amazing thing that struck me was his attire. He was immaculately dressed in white tie and tails, although his appearance at this broadcast marked some special occasion, and probably it did. It must have been an agonizing effort for him to appear at all. But something I'll never forget occurred when I made my sign-off announcement. I was announcing the features of next week's show. Next week, ladies and gentlemen, we will bring you an interesting dramatization of the new Guy Gill Patrick story. And John Erskine, the famous author, will appear in person. Graham, that was what the listeners heard. But if they only could have been in the studio, what they would have seen was this. As I finished my final announcement, Colonel Davis left his chair and he walked up to the microphone. He opened his mouth as if to talk into the mic. And I could see him desperately struggling to speak. But he couldn't utter a sound. He tried again. Then he shrugged his shoulders and slowly walked back to his chair. I always felt that he wanted to say a last goodbye to the radio audience in America to whom he had given so much. Several weeks later, I made this announcement at the close of the Collies Hour. Since the inception of Collies Hour three years ago, ladies and gentlemen, you have heard either the voice or the work of Colonel Thomas Davis. We regret to say that you will hear them no more. For on Wednesday morning, Tom Davis died. In his passing, the radio lost a pioneer artist. Collies Hour, a valued associate. And I, a very dear friend, Colonel Davis with a soldier and a gentleman, they could have enough for any man. Be sure to listen again next week when we will bring you the story of a man who makes a living dying on the radio. Inside information on how the election returns will be handled over the radio. And more of the human interest, the glamour, the comedy and the drama that are found behind the mic. This is Graham McNamee speaking. Good afternoon all. I'm Art Lewis. Original music is composed and conducted by Ernie Watts. Beth Allen and Ted Malone were impersonated by Ward Wilson. And this is The National Broadcasting Company.