301229 - New Year's Story

 

Recording status:  recorded; in circulation

As the year 1930 came to its waning, final days, Empire Builders went on the air with a radio play with New Year’s Eve as its focus. On December 29, the Seattle Times newspaper reported a significant schedule change for arguably the most popular radio program on the air at that time, Amos ‘n Andy. They also commented on the scheduled Empire Builders show.

 

 

FANS WILL HEAR AMOS ‘N’ ANDY EARLIER TONIGHT

They Are Due Over KOMO at 8 o’clock From Now On;

Empire Builders Include Seattle in Playlet

The other night about 8:30 o'clock, everything was peaceful and quiet in the home of a King County Superior Court judge. The family was grouped about the fireplace. The judge was puffing away at his cigar.

All of a sudden, he bounded out of his chair – and he’s a big man – his watch in his hand.

“Great guns,” he cried while all the family began running in every direction, wondering what was the matter. “We’ve missed Amos ‘n’ Andy.”

They switched on the radio. The last bars of “The Perfect Song” dying away – “Amos ‘n’ Andy bid you all good night.” It was over.

The judge’s evening was ruined. Life was a shallow husk.

Anyone else who feels that way about the two blackface fellows will have to remember one thing tonight. This is the night Amos ‘n’ Andy change their radio time. They will be on the air at 8 o'clock instead of 8:30. KOMO will carry their drolleries at that hour, 8 o'clock, every evening from now on, due to a shakeup in network schedules.

Apropos of the season and whatnot, the Empire Builders will present a New Year’s playlet tonight, but that’s not all. That’s not half. The story will have its beginning in the East and it will reach its finale in Seattle with sirens and whistles and fanfare – especially fanfare – and dial KOMO at 7:30 o'clock tonight to see what it’s like.

 

It’s possible that the new timing of Amos ‘n’ Andy, immediately following Empire Builders, may have helped boost the audience numbers for the GN’s program. Seems like it couldn’t have hurt.

With a typical opening of music and railroad sound effects, the broadcast opened and Ted Pearson came to the microphone. He announced that the evening’s play would tell the tale of a forlorn young man in Chicago whose wife had left him inexplicably. A chance encounter with our pal, the Old Timer, helped set things on a path of redemption.

The young man was Jim Baird, played by Don Ameche. Baird and the Old Timer ended up sharing the same bench at a quiet spot in Chicago’s Lincoln Park. Before long, Jim was baring his soul and sharing his woes with the ever-sympathetic Old Timer.

It seems Baird and his wife Louise (played by Lucille Husting) were not long married before “Lou” began making bank withdrawals that Jim did not approve of – particularly since it seemed she was trying to be surreptitious about it. Baird also mentioned that he and his wife were both singers. His wife had been signing at clubs in Chicago, and had tried to cajole him into going professional, too.

Then Jim Baird told the Old Timer about a very odd episode that seemed to precipitate his wife’s sudden disappearance. He explained the conflict over the money, and then shared his strange tale.

OLD TIMER:  No explanations at all, eh?

JIM:                No; none at all. One night we had quite a row about it. Ended up all right, and she promised she wouldn’t draw out any more money. Well. Next day I happened to come home early, and she was talking to a fellow on the back porch. Kind of a tough-looking fellow. They were arguing over money. Lou said she wouldn’t give him another cent, and he was just getting abusive, when I showed up and booted him down the steps. Lou wouldn’t say a thing, and I got mad and walked out.

OLD TIMER:  Looks like blackmail.

Baird was at a complete loss as to what his wife might have been blackmailed for. He thought he had handled the stranger-at-the-back-door incident, but when he returned home from work the next day, Louise was gone. No note. No trace of her. Just gone.

Three months later, quite out of the blue, a postcard from Lou arrived from Seattle in the mail. Her message said: “Nothing but tears for us together. Is it better alone, Jimmy? I’m singing in a club here – getting along. I wish every good thing for you, dear – including a lapse of memory for our unfortunate venture.  Louise.”

 

Lucille Husting and Don Ameche in a 1930 press photo made by
Theatrical Chicago, a noted professional publicity firm of the day.
Author's collection

The press photo depicted above was distributed by Harold Sims of the Great Northern Railway with the attached press release copy:
When the Empire Builders playlets have a romantic theme - which is not infrequently - the role of the lovers is taken by Lucille Husting and Don Ameche. In addition to their dramatic talent, they have strong leanings towards music. Miss Husting is an accomplished pianist, while Don Ameche has a rich, pleasing voice. He is an exceedingly modest young man and makes no claims to being a radio singer, but his occasional singing on the Great Northern's programs has agreeably surprised his radio friends.

The Old Timer revealed the happy news that he was headed out from Chicago the next day to Seattle – on the Empire Builder (naturally). The wise old man then challenged Jim Baird to travel out to Seattle with him to look for Louise. You kind of have to wonder why Baird hadn’t already thought of this. He’d been packing around the postcard from Louise for at least six months. I guess he was just waiting for a sympathetic old man to sit down by him on a park bench and convince him to get off his arse and find his wife. Baird finally came to the realization that he could be spared from the office:

JIM:    Hey! Wait a minute! By gosh! Harry Davis could do my work for two weeks, and I didn’t have a vacation this summer … sure they’ll let me go! By golly, I’ll go with you, Mr. – Mr. – say, I don’t even know your name!

OLD TIMER:  (CHUCKLE)  Old Timer, folks call me.

JIM:    Old Timer!  Well, I’ll be darned! Lou and I used to listen to you on the radio every week! Say, I’m sure glad to meet you!

So, the two of them trundled off the next day, on what was without a doubt one of the most pleasant journeys ever known to mankind – an overland trip on the Great Northern Railway’s crack train, the Empire Builder.

The interlude dealing with the train trip fell in between an all-out detailed radio advertisement showcasing all the wonderful amenities of the train, and just skipping the onboard stuff altogether. There was a brief scene at Chicago’s Union Station when Jim boarded the train and met up with the Old Timer, and then another brief segue upon the train’s arrival in Seattle. True to form for this 1930 radio show, the porter was named “Jackson” and possessed a stereotypical dialect and manner of speech. It would be interesting to determine if the actor playing Jackson was actually a Black man, or just another White man doing a “blackface” role like Correll and Gosden on the Amos ‘n’ Andy show that immediately followed this half-hour. Here is the interchange at the Empire Builder’s western destination:

OLD TIMER:  Good morning, Jackson. Just about in, aren’t we?

PORTER:        Yas, suh, Mistuh Ol’ Timuh. Jes’ ‘bout seb’m mo’ minnits, an we’s in th’ King Street Dee-po. Yas suh, thank y’, suh.

OLD TIMER:  Well, I’ll be glad to get back. Good morning, Jim. How you feel?

JIM:                Swell, Old Timer. Gee, I sort of hate to get off the train. It’s been a wonderful trip. I’ll sure be happy to find Louise and take her back with me. That scenery we’ve been seeing’s just plain honeymoon scenery!

Whoooooaaa there, big fella! Better cool your jets until you actually find her, and see if she’s inclined to have anything to do with you. There’s still a lotta ‘splainin’ to do.

Jim and the Old Timer got off the train and were met by an acquaintance of the Old Timer’s, John Carroll. The Old Timer had wired ahead to his friend to see if the talent booking agent might be able to help Jim Baird locate his wife. Carroll had not yet made any headway, but the trio agreed to head off to the hotel and plot a course of action to track down Louise.

The next scene found the three men huddled at a table of the Club Sovereign, a swanky Seattle nightclub. It was New Year’s Eve, and Jim was rapidly running out of time before he had to get back to Chicago. There still had been no sign of Louise, but John and the Old Timer seemed to have something up their sleeves.

CARROLL:     Well, Jim, how do you like the Club Sovereign? Got anything to beat this in Chicago?

JIM:                Nope, guess not.

OLD TIMER:  Come on, Jim, this is New Year’s Eve. We’re not licked yet.

JIM:                I’m licked.

CARROLL:     (SOTTO)  He’ll perk up, Old Timer, when the show starts.  (CHUCKLES)

OLD TIMER:  (SOTTO)  I’ll bet.  (CHUCKLES)  Just wait, Jim, you’ve got another day yet.

The show was set to begin in only a few minutes when John Carroll and the Old Timer decided it was time to let Jim in on a little secret.

OLD TIMER:  Now, pay attention. John and I’ve been lookin’ round, and why do you think we brought you here?

JIM:                Celebrate New Year’s, I guess.

OLD TIMER:  Guess again. Boy, there’s a girl here singing under the name of Blue Kennedy.

JIM:                Well. I don’t know her.

OLD TIMER:  (CHUCKLES)  That so? We-ell – she signed her contract “Lou Baird”!

JIM:                (SHOUTS)  What! Where is she? Where is she? Old Timer! Carroll! Where is she?

CARROLL:     Now sit down, Jim, sit down. You’ll see her soon enough. Here! The show’s starting. Pay attention.

The nightclub’s Master of Ceremonies came to the microphone and announced the first act, a trio called the “Three Visiting Firemen.” Jim was notably underwhelmed. His anxiety about waiting to find Lou was steaming him up to a boiling point.

JIM:                I think they’re terrible. Where’s Lou?

OLD TIMER:  Hold on, boy. I think she’s next. Listen.

               (ROLL OF DRUM CRASH OF CYMBALS ETC.)

MC:                 (OFF)  And now, my friends, if you are my friends, and I hope not, you’re going to get a treat. No darling, not an acrobat. A treat, I said. Guess who – whom. That’s right. Got your hankies out, girls and boys. The little girl with the cry-baby voice – the queen of all torch singers – what’s that, lady? No, it isn’t Libby Holman. It’s Seattle’s sweetheart. Ladies and escorts, I present … Miss – Blue – Kennedy!

               (LOUD AND SUSTAINED APPLUASE)

JIM:                My God, it is Lou! Lou, dear! Lou!

CARROLL:     Pipe down, Jim, you don’t want to bust up the show.

Louise Baird (a.k.a., “Blue Kennedy”) came onstage and performed a song called “Lonesome Lover.” How appropriate.

 

Poor, poor Jimmie. The Lonesome Lover himself. He just couldn’t contain himself any longer. Even the Old Timer couldn’t hold him back.

JIM:                Let me go, Old Timer! It’s Lou! Oh, Lou, dear!

OLD TIMER:  Now you set still, boy – hey! Hey! Stop! Come back here, Jim!

(JIM RUNS ACROSS THE FLOOR CALLING TO LOU. LOU’S SINGING COMES UP FULL. JIM’S VOICE IN LOW, PLEADING ACCENTS)

JIM:                Lou, dear!  Louise …

(THE SONG FALTERS. LOUISE SAYS “JIMMY”! AND CONTINUES THE SONG)

JIM:                Darling, I’ve waited so long for you. I’ve looked everywhere. I’ve been nearly crazy, dear! Listen to me, Lou! Listen, I say! I love you – I want you to come home with me. Darling! Look at me, dear! Listen – I love you, and I want you to come home!  Honey  -- etc., etc.

(THE SONG CONCLUDES. APPLAUSE. THE MICROPHONE APPARENTLY GOES FROM TABLE TO TABLE PICKING UP THE PATRONS’ COMMENTS)

 

(TABLE SOUNDS UP)

What followed was a series of comments from other patrons, all kind of wondering what the heck was going on between these two. Some thought Jim was drunk. Someone else accused him of being a “stage door Johnny with his cues mixed up.” One man surmised it was all part of the show, until a savvy woman with him noticed Lou’s genuine blushing. The Old Timer and his friend, John Carroll, remained at their table and watched Jim return, looking downcast.

OLD TIMER:  First time I ever seen a man do his courtin’ in front of a mob like this …

CARROLL:     Hope he gets away with it.

OLD TIMER:  He’s comin’ back to the table. Well, Jimmy?

JIM:                I don’t know, Old Timer. She told me to go away – and then I kept on talking to her – and – I don’t know. She said I could come back to her dressing room.

CARROLL:     Well, who’s standin’ on your foot?

JIM:                Seems so darn hopeless.

CARROLL:     Go on, sap. Go on. What did you come ‘way out here to Seattle for, anyway?

I’m with this guy Carroll. You begin to wonder what Louise ever saw in him in the first place. Sounds like a real milquetoast. Still, he summoned up whatever courage he had clattering around in his hollow constitution and went back to confront Lou in her dressing room. There were a couple minutes of awkward dithering about “what’s the use” and “don’t you have any feelings for me?” and other such drivel. Finally, Jim got around to pinning down Louise to get the whole story out of her.

JIM:                Well, what in the world was it all about, anyway?

LOU:               It’s just as hard to tell you now as it was then, Jimmy.  (PAUSE)  That tramp you kicked out … the one I’d been giving money to … was my half-brother.

JIM:                Your half-brother!

LOU:               Yes. He was a kind of black sheep. He’d been in prison, and when he got out he needed money. So he came to me. He said he’d tell you all about it if I didn’t give him money. We were so happy, and I – I – I didn’t want to give it all up. And then I – I guess I busted things up anyway by not telling you.

JIM:                Lou, dear – you might have known I’d understand.

LOU:               (SOBBING)  I was afraid, dear …

JIM:                Honey, I don’t care if you’ve got a million brothers, and every last one of ‘em in jail! I love you – not your brothers and things! What became of this guy?

LOU:               He – he – was shot in a holdup the day before I left. I was afraid you’d find out – and you were so angry at me – oh, Jim – (SOBS)

JIM:                Well, that’s that. And I love you. Will you come back with me tomorrow – New Year’s Day – and start the new year off right with me again?

Wow, Lou… sounds like you’re just as much of a head-case as Jimbo there. Please tell me that you two never have children. Well, anyhow – the show must go on. Lou was alerted that she was on again in a few minutes. She excused herself to change into another outfit for the clock-strikes-midnight New Year’s Eve performance. This left Jim out in the corridor with Lou’s assistant, a girl named Hannah. She told Jim that Lou was very much in love with him. Sounds a lot like grade school note-passing. Jim pressed Hannah to find out what song Lou was preparing to perform. It was “Body and Soul,” and it just so happened that Jim was well familiar with the song.

JIM:    “Body an’ Soul”. By God, I know that! I’m going out there and sing it with her.  (LAUGHS)  You bet. We’ll give these people a show – Lou’s farewell appearance. By golly, I will.

And by golly he did. Right before midnight. Guess who got himself a kiss? Louise decided she was ready to head home with Jim, body and soul.

 

 

 

Another press photo from Theatrical Chicago, likely intended to be published in conjunction with this night's broadcast.
We can imagine Lucille Husting and Don Ameche are rehearsing "Body and Soul."
Author's collection

 

 

 

Until next week, keep those dials tuned to Empire Builders!