Just in case you missed the first time . . .
- 6 June: D-Day On the Air—73 Years Later
- 31 December: Here’s to the New Year
- 24 December: ‘Tis the night before Christmas
- 20 December: From Macy’s to Dickens on the plains
- 12 December: Eden rocked
- 9 December: The aftermath, continued . . .
- 8 December: Immediate aftermath
- 7 December: The date still lives in infamy
- 5 December: The mean widdle man-kid
- 21 November: Freed fall
We’re building a history here . . .
Category Archives: History/Documentary
Very quietly, but most unconditionally, what’s left of the Third Reich following the death of Adolf Hitler surrenders one and all to the Allies, following the relentless, smothering Allied press into the heart of Germany. The rump Fensburg government of Grand Admiral Karl Doenitz—the surprise successor der Fuehrer named in the hours before his death, who knew in his heart that the Third Reich’s days were numbered almost in single digits when he took over—has lasted ten days since Hitler’s suicide.
Even in 2015, two years before its eightieth anniversary, you can find periodic debate as to whether it’s the single greatest legend of old-time radio news reporting in the pre-World War II era. What isn’t necessarily debatable is that Herbert Morrison’s spot report of the Hindenburg disaster becomes a legend the way legends customarily became that way, once upon a time—entirely by accident. It is an experiment in pre-recording news reporting for delayed broadcast, and it takes on its own mystique in very short order.
Comprehending and embracing radio to a greater extent than perhaps any American politician of his era (Calvin Coolidge was merely the first President to appreciate the medium’s potential), Franklin D. Roosevelt introduced the Fireside Chats during his first year in the White House, when he went on the air 12 March 1933 at the height of the Depression-seeded bank crisis.
It could have been better . . . it certainly could have been worse . . . but now let’s say goodbye to 2014 the auld-time radio way, beginning (perhaps this will become a tradition in this space, too) with a legendary New Year’s Eve music special for American and other troops still scattered ’round in the immediate wake of World War II . . .
Norman Corwin’s biographer R. LeRoy Bannermann will recall how Corwin, planning a special commemorating the 150th anniversary of the Bill of Rights, was completing the script when the news of Pearl Harbour reached him. And from the moment it airs tonight, it may become Corwin’s signature composition and presentation.
The timing of We Hold These Truths will give it historic significance enough, airing eight days after Pearl Harbour, its nationalistic but hardly jingoistic theme kindling within its listeners both an indignant patriotism and a renewed dedication. Which is, when all is said and done, a remarkable achievement for a man who’s just been cashiered by CBS—because his work, much heard, heeded, and honoured, has become too “speculative [and] experimental” for a network in need of becoming more “competitive.”