Westbrook Van Voorhis—the voice of time or the voice of fate, either one worked for The March of Time. (Photo: NBC)
The immediate aftermath of Pearl Harbour continues to bristle in the United States and around the world, and one of its most eloquent radio exercises comes from a series launched in Cincinnati in 1929 and becoming a radio legend in spite of the apparent disdain of the publishing titan whose signature creation fueled it.
Posted in classic radio, comedy, crime drama, drama/dramatic anthology, History/Documentary, News and comment, old-time radio, Western, World War II
Tagged Henry Luce, The March of Time, Time magazine, Westbrook Van Voorhis, WLW Cincinnati
A nation and, indeed, a world begins rounding into shape enough to respond to the Pearl Harbour attacks, and the blaring reality—which many enough hoped to avoid—that the United States goes to international war once more.
TUNE IN TODAY: ANSWERING PEARL HARBOUR . . .
“Yesterday . . . December 7, 1941 . . .” (CBS)
The president proclaims the day of infamy.
The network soon to be known as the Tiffany Network offers one compelling piece of evidence as to why: it covers, completely, President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s address to a joint session of Congress, including his call for a formal declaration of war.
Published first on 7 December 2012. I thought fit to re-publish exactly as it was today:
John Daly. (Photo: CBS.)
Even seventy years later, the questions continue to animate, intrigue, trouble, and inspire historians of all stripes.Was Pearl Harbour a genuine sneak attack? Was it an act of retaliatory desperation, following months of maneuvers and blockades? Was it known to be possible in advance enough of its terrible actuality?
This is a preview of
7 December: Radio that would live in infamy, too . . .
. Read the full post (1742 words, 2 images, estimated 6:58 mins reading time)
Bendix walked a curious mile or three before becoming radio’s irrepressible Riley. (Photo: NBC.)
The Life of Riley is both a secure radio hit and, in due course, would become a secure presence in television’s first decade. What few people might remember of the show in decades to come was that Groucho Marx had something to do with it.
Groucho had conceived of a show with the classically Marxian name The Flotsam Family, in which the comedy legend would play a straight role—at least, straight on his terms: head of a family. What sounded intriguing on paper and in an audition disc (long enough lost, alas) proved another story when the would-be sponsor turned it down . . . because said sponsor just didn’t buy into Groucho as a family man.
Abbott & Costello return from having been rudely interrupted by Costello’s bout with rheumatic fever . . . (Photo: NBC)
Bud Abbott and Lou Costello brought plenty of heft to network radio when they premiered as series stars in fall 1942. They brought four seasons’ worth of scattered but successful guest spots and (in 1940) a thirteen-week spell as Fred Allen’s summer replacement to their own microphones for Camel cigarettes.