310112 - A Long Distance Call

 

Recording status:  Recorded, circulating

Have you ever considered the phrase “truth is stranger than fiction?” On this topic, Mark Twain is quoted as saying “Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn't.” Can you think of any examples in life where you have been amazed by how unlikely a real event turned out to be, that it would be hard to imagine anyone inventing the story from whole cloth? Have you ever reacted to an experience or event by thinking “you can’t make this stuff up?”

Well, here’s one for you, boys and girls. On the night of January 12, 1931, the Great Northern Railway presented Empire Builders at its usual time slot. The broadcast kept to the usual format, with its musical introduction and sound effects imitating the railroad’s crack passenger train, the Empire Builder. Ted Pearson came to the microphone as usual and provided some opening comments. And then the Empire Builders players, led by Harvey Hays as the Old Timer and featuring the talented young Don Ameche and Lucille Husting and others, proceeded to tell the tale of a railroad telegrapher on the Great Northern. During the course of the story, this fellow, named Charlie, became ill and fell into a coma. No manner of medical treatment could bring him out of it. But then someone hit on the idea of setting up a telegraph sounder by his bed, and tapping out his operating initials over and over … and soon he opened his eyes and emerged from the coma. Phhhhhhht. What a dumb story, right? Who comes up with this stuff?

In this case, the author was a woman by the name of Esther M. Hood. But let’s not be so quick to blame her. Turns out – are you sitting down – something like this really happened. In real life. No foolin’.

It begins with the story of a man in western Canada by the name of John Theodore Phelan. Born in Quebec, Canada, in about 1859, ol’ J.T. Phelan was Superintendent of an operation called the Dominion Government Telegraph Service (DGTS). His career in the telegraph business began with the Montreal Telegraph Company, and later he worked for the Canadian Pacific Railway for twenty years.

Under Phelan’s leadership, the DGTS established an extensive telegraph system that ran at least from Vancouver, British Columbia, in the south, to Dawson, Yukon Territory, in the north. The Yukon Telegraph was a subset of the DGTS; Phelan was assigned to supervise the southern division, which extended from Ashcroft (about 50 miles west of Kamloops, BC) to Atlin, BC (about 67 miles inland from Haines, Alaska). Up and down the Yukon Telegraph Trail, Phelan (who was based in Vancouver, BC) was highly regarded and was universally known by his telegraph operator initials, “PN.”  Such was Phelan’s good reputation that the Grand Trunk Pacific Railway named a station after him.

J.T. Phelan married the love of his life, Ola Ettie Mix, in 1888. John and Ola had five children: one son and four daughters.

When Ola passed away at the relatively young age of 53, on August 26, 1924, John was devastated. He had his own health issues over the years, including a time in 1908 when he was bedridden with a significant eye infection (it made the news – that’s how I know). But upon the death of his beloved Ola, John Phelan became gravely ill, and after several days, slipped into a coma. It was feared he would not come out of it. What transpired next was so unlikely that the story of it spread across all of North America, finding prominence on the front page of dozens of newspapers.

Details differ as to whether it was one of his four daughters, or an attending physician, to whom credit is due. Whomever it was that inspiration struck, the solution to bringing J.T. Phelan out of his coma was, well, inspired. They wanted to call J.T. back to duty, so to speak, and when daubing with damp cloths spurred no response, and soothing verbal admonitions to wake fell upon deaf ears, a telegraph sounder was rigged up and set on his bedside table. A skilled telegrapher tapped out “PN….PN….PN….”

By God, it worked! Phelan opened his eyes and smiled. The telegrapher tapped out a suggestion that he take a sip of milk from the glass on his bed table, and thus he took his first sustenance in weeks.

In January of 1924, about nine months prior to the coma of J.T. Phelan, the Great Northern Railway began publishing a monthly magazine aimed at employees of the company. The periodical was titled the Great Northern Semaphore. In the issue of October, 1924, they featured J.T. Phelan’s story. Here is how the tale was shared with railroaders on the GN (quoted in turn from the St. Paul Dispatch):

THE VOICE OF A CALLING

A singularly fortunate man, for all his sorrows, is J. T. Phelan, superintendent of the Dominion Telegraph Company at Vancouver, B. C. Lying for nearly a week in a comatose condition, following the death of his wife, he was restored to consciousness by the installation of a telegraph instrument at his bedside, which ticked out his call: "PN" over and over again, until his eyes opened and he smiled. Then the Morse code suggested that he drink a glass of milk and in almost subconscious obedience to it, he reached forth and took the milk - the first food he had taken in six days.

The incident is unusual only in the circumstances. The man who loves his work, answers, when all other voices fail, to its call. The man who loves his work and who loves a good woman has about all the good the gods provide. The sounds and scenes of a man's work become ingrained in him, particularly if he has that pride in his artifice born of skill in it and long practice. Every calling has its voice to the man who follows it faithfully; and when his ear is deaf to all other sounds, it is attuned to the familiar note and responds.

It is a thought that this generation can dwell upon with profit, when there is a disposition to look rather for the material rewards of labor than for the joy of labor itself. The aim of life is not riches, but in work well done – and it can only be done well if it is loved.

Heck of a story. A real story. One that might just work as the basis of a sketch on Empire Builders, by cracky! Except that on January 12, 1931 – exactly two years to the day of the opening of the GN’s Cascade Tunnel – the plan was for Empire Builders to broadcast a story about the second anniversary of the tunnel. Press releases were issued stating this fact. The day of the broadcast, the Seattle Times published the following on good faith:

 

CASCADE TUNNEL DRAMATIZED FOR RADIO LISTENERS

Construction of Longest Railroad Bore in Western Hemisphere Made Subject of Air Play Tonight.

The eight-mile railway tunnel opened through the Washington Cascades two years ago will be the background for a radio playlet of the National Broadcasting Company coming over KOMO at 7:30 o'clock this evening. Plenty of drama and a dash of comedy are promised. The playlet, dedicated to the anniversary of the opening of the longest railway tunnel in the western hemisphere, will originate in Chicago.

 

For reasons that I have not discovered, the Cascade Tunnel story was shelved and a story inspired by J.T. Phelan’s real-life woes took its place. Largely because this story was a last-minute substitution, and therefore no press releases appear to have been issued announcing it to the newspapers, it would be challenging to identify a reliable title for this broadcast. However – I believe I found it. In the Great Northern Railway’s Advertising Department records, the expense accounts for the month of January, 1931, include a line item for payment to one Esther M. Hood in the amount of $150.00. Her contribution to Empire Builders: a manuscript titled “A Long Distance Call.” I’m goin’ with it. It fits perfectly in every way.

The title of this broadcast was most assuredly not any of the variations you will find associated with it where digital copies of the show are offered. Again, I tip my hat to whomever located and first transferred the GN’s off-the-airwaves recordings onto open-reel (or “reel-to-reel”) audio tapes. At this time, a total of 22 Empire Builders broadcasts are known to exist in this format, a number which includes 9 extant copies that are floating around the internet. One of those nine is this night’s broadcast. It is still a mystery to me how the GN’s off-the-air recordings made it onto open-reel tapes, and from there onto cassettes and/or digital formats, and exactly who did that work all along the way. But with nothing more than the audio recording to work with, those who had a hand in that process came up with the following titles:

• Charlie’s Flue

• A Job For Jimmy

• Montana Snow

As for “Charlie’s Flue,” we have the unfortunate persistence of a misspelling. There is little doubt this person intended to name the broadcast “Charlie’s Flu” – short for influenza. The story has nothing to do with a smoke duct, but the protagonist of the story is in fact a railroader named Charlie – and he becomes ill and falls into a coma.

The story also involves a young lad named Jimmy, and includes concerns about his employment.

Finally, the story is indeed set in Montana, and it is winter – there is snow about. But the story isn’t really about the Montana snow. That is simply descriptive of the setting. And so we get to the story aired by Empire Builders on January 12, 1931.

The broadcast opened with Ted Pearson doing a bit of a two-step to address the predictably abject disappointment of thousands of radio listeners that this night’s program would in fact NOT be about an 8-mile hole in the ground. Bummer. The railroad was understandably proud of that tremendous bore, but perhaps the engineering marvel that was and still is the GN’s Cascade Tunnel was simply no longer capable of riveting the attention and admiration of the nation’s radio audience. Still, Ted Pearson, Advertising Department copy in hand, gamely charged ahead with all the sincerity and importance he could muster.

ANNOUNCER:

Tonight Empire Builders brings you a story of railroad life; a story true to face, and characteristic of the men and women who make the Great Northern a dependable railway. This story is presented in place of the Cascade Tunnel story which was announced in newspapers throughout the country. The great Cascade Tunnel, which was dedicated two years ago tonight, is one of the notable engineering feats of the world. Nearly eight miles in length, it is bored straight through the solid granite of the Cascade Mountains in Central Washington, to shorten the time of Great Northern trains by hours. Straight as a rifle bore, and as clean, this great tunnel is one of the most interesting features of a trip east or west via Great Northern. Giant electric locomotives speed our trains through the tunnel without dust soot, or smoke. The interior of the tunnel is brightly lighted by electricity, and as clean as a whistle.

            The passenger service of the Great Northern is not the only branch of traffic that has benefited by the Cascade Tunnel. Its contribution to freight service is incalculable. It has made possible tremendous improvement in freight service, not only on the west end of the Great Northern, but throughout the length of the line.

            And now we find the Old Timer just entering the station at Blackfoot, Montana, a little town just this side of Glacier Park. It is a cold, snowy afternoon, and the yards outside the station are a-bustle with activity as the snow-fighting equipment of the Great Northern is being made ready for a battle with the elements!

The story opened with the Old Timer dropping in to visit his pal Charlie at a lonely little depot about 7 or 8 miles east of Browning, Montana. It was the dead of winter, and a snow storm was howling. The Old Timer announced to Charlie that watching those Great Northern crews buck snow was the very reason for his visit. Seems like an odd way to while away a few idle hours, but what do I know?

It seems the Old Timer was a bit careless in securely closing the door to the depot. Charlie got a bit testy about it, barking at the Old Timer to shut the door. The Old Timer asked him what was ailing him. Charlie said he felt he was scheduled for a long trip. The Old Timer took this to mean Charlie thought he was going to be let go, but couldn’t believe that, seeing as how Charlie was “the best operator they’ve got on the Montana Division.” Charlie admitted he was pretty good at pounding the brass – “I ain’t never done anything else but.” So the Old Timer pressed on – what do you mean, Charlie?

CHARLIE:      Somethin’ is going to happen. You’ll say I’ve got a few sliding wheels, but when I was coming to work this afternoon, I had the funniest feelin’ – like I was drifting off to some dark place, where there wasn’t a sound – where I couldn’t even hear the sounder there poundin’ out BF for me.

OLD TIMER:  Hm-mm-mm.  You’re comin’ down with the flu or somthin’.

CHARLIE:      Somethin’ is right.

OLD TIMER:  I’ll go up and get the Doc to fix you up a handful of them green pills of his. Just to look at ‘em, will cure you.

Charlie protested that he didn’t think he had the flu, but the Old Timer decided if that wasn’t it, then there was at least something serious worrying him. The Old Timer tried to coax it out of Charlie.

CHARLIE:      Well, I got it pretty straight from the office that the Superintendent is figuring on promoting me to that vacant train dispatcher’s job at HV – Havre. It means nearly double the money, but that ain’t all ----- I guess you know the big reason why I want to go to Havre?

OLD TIMER:  Ha! That little blue-eyed telegraph operator over there. I thought so. Well, you’re gonna take it, ain’t you?

CHARLIE:      God only knows how I want that job!

OLD TIMER:  Why don’t you grab it then, if it’s offered you? What’s holdin’ you?

CHARLIE:      A soft spot in my heart, I guess. The dope is that Young Hadley’s dad here is next in line. If I should pass it up, you see, he’d get it.

The Old Timer admitted that the elder Hadley was a good operator, but then declared he wasn’t half the all-around railroader that Charlie was. But then Charlie fed the Old Timer a little more of his reasoning.

CHARLIE:      It ain’t the old man I’m thinking of; it’s the kid, himself. The Old Doc told me he was headed straight for a general breakdown, if he didn’t quit this night calling job and take a rest right now. And do you know what the kid said? He squared his thin little shoulders like the real fighter he is and he up an’ said, “Say! How’s my dad going to raise eight kids and pay off the mortgage on one man’s salary? I can’t quit, and I gotta last, til my brother gets big enough to take my place!”

But wait, there’s more! It turns out young Jimmy Hadley reminded Charlie of his own brother, and a very similar set of circumstances that proved to be the undoing of Charlie’s brother.

CHARLIE:      That sure knocked me for a row of pins. It reminded me of my oldest brother. He looked like Young Jim Hadley, too. There was a big family of us. My brother tried what Jimmy’s doing, hold down a job outside and play nursemaid at home. Our folks were poor and – well, they didn’t realize. One day, the boy just lay down – and sighed – that was all – he was gone! It broke my mother’s heart, and she passed away soon afterward. When I look at Jimmy Hadley, I -------

OLD TIMER:  But Jimmy seems to have a lot of vitality.

CHARLIE:      He seems to, but that’s just nerve and will power, the Doc says. This thing will drive me cuckoo yet. One minute, I can see Kathy waiting for me, and I swear I’ll have that job at any price, and then, the next moment, there’s quick flash of another picture ---- my brother’s pale little face, with the big sad eyes just like Jimmy’s, and -----  then, -----  I don’t know.

So we learn that the name of the “little blue-eyed telegraph operator” over in Havre is Kathy. She’s the one Charlie is sweet on. At this point, we also learn something else altogether. The Great Northern Railway, which had a large number of skilled telegraphers on its payroll, saw to it that an honest to goodness skilled telegrapher was enlisted to tap out some appropriate telegraph clicks to advance our story. I don’t know anything about telegraphy, even railroad telegraphy, but I do know for a fact that the little Great Northern depot at Blackfoot, Montana, had its own unique telegraph code: BF. When one operator wanted to contact another operator, they tapped out the unique station code of the facility they were trying to communicate with. Judging by the notes in the continuity, it seems they used a shorthand of sorts and only utilized the second letter on call-up (or it was a mistake in the continuity).

(SOUND OF KEY CALLING DISTINCTLY  F ----- F ------ F)

CHARLIE:      F ----- F-----  that dispatcher is after me again. He’s got something special on his mind this time, I know by the way he calls.  (ANSWERS CALL “I, BF”.  SOUND OF MESSAGE TYPEWRITER, AS HE FINISHES, JIMMY ENTERS)

CHARLIE:      Ha! Superintendent’s Special’s coming. Hello, there, Jimmy, more crews for you to call. Two extras east and the Superintendent’s Special.

JIMMY:          The Old Man himself, huh?

I’ve written previously about the GN’s steadfast adherence to realism and accuracy. When the story called for someone to tap out messages by telegraph, they gosh darned well found a skilled telegrapher and had them tap it out. It wasn’t hard at all to come up with such a specialist, and since there promised to be a significant number of seasoned railroaders and others in the listening audience with knowledge of telegraphy and Morse code, the radio broadcast was gosh darned well going to utilize honest-to-goodness real and intelligible Morse code. The newspapers even picked up on this point shortly after this story was broadcast.

Telegraph Messages by Radio

A radio program within a radio program, only part of which was understood by the listening public, was broadcast from the Chicago NBC studios in a recent episode of the Great Northern railroad's "Empire Builders" series of radio dramas. The "inside program," whose existence few listeners suspected, came as a result of the situation of the story, which told of the experiences of a young railroad telegrapher. During many of the scenes the clicking of the telegraph keys was plainly heard.                             - - Fort Covington (NY) Sun, March 19, 1931

 

Jimmy, Charlie, and the Old Timer all shared their impressions of Mr. Smith, the Superintendent. Charlie took up some helpful copy from the Advertising boys and declared the Supe’s mantra was “the only way to make a DEPENDABLE RAILWAY is for everybody from the Superintendent down to get on the job and stay there.” The Old Timer added he had a heart “as big as a 2500 locomotive.” Jimmy chimed in about the Superintendent’s skills at telegraphy, and Charlie agreed the old man came up from the telegraph service, recalling his days “pounding brass over at Great Falls.”

One of GN's massive P-2 class locomotives, numbered in the 2500 series.

 

Jimmy charged off to call up the extra crews needed for the work at hand. Charlie and the Old Timer got back to talking about poor little Jimmy, and Charlie’s dilemma, should Mr. Smith come by and offer Charlie the job at Havre. The Old Time excused himself and left the depot as the telegraph activity heated up and Charlie found himself getting very busy. A phone call from Kathy distracted Charlie for a minute or so, but then the telegraph sounder was clicking again with the Blackfoot station call, “BF,” and Jimmy stumbled back into the depot.

(TRANSITION MUSIC UP:  FADE TO INTERIOR OFFICE SOUND AGAIN – TELEGRAPH INSTRUMENTS. DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES.  WIND UP AND DOWN.  STAMPING OF FEET)

CHARLIE:      What’s the matter, Jimmy? Feelin’ tough?

JIMMY:          Kinda week in the knees --------- too much tramping through the snow, I guess.

CHARLIE:      (ANXIOUSLY)  You know what the Doc said, Jimmy. You gotta quit this job and take a rest.

JIMMY:          Can’t be done. I’ll be O.K. ------------ I’ll work it off.

              (SOUND OF APPROACHING TRAIN)  There she comes -------------- Superintendent’s train, ain’t it?

Soon, Jimmy bolted back out into the inviting icebox, and Superintendent Smith entered the depot to chat with Charlie. Sure enough, Smith offered the Havre job to Charlie.

CHARLEY:    (STAMMERS)  I ----------- I’m afraid I can’t take it ------------

MR. SMITH:  You can’t? Do you mind telling me why?

CHARLEY:    (HESITATES, THEN SEIZES UPON FIRST EXCUSE THAT COMES TO HIM).  I couldn’t hold it down --------- I ---------

MR. SMITH:  What are you giving me?

CHARLEY:    It’s true, Mr. Smith. There’s Hadley --- Jimmy’s Dad --- he can run rings all around me now. I tell you --- I can feel myself slipping.

MR. SMITH:  Since when has all this slipping begun? I can’t figure this.

Charlie claimed to have lost his nerve, but Smith wasn’t too quick to buy it. Smith departed, and soon the Old Timer came back in, stomping the snow and the cold off his feet. The Old Timer pointed out that Charlie looked “all shot to pieces.”

Curiously, the continuity consistently referred to the Superintendent as “Mr. Smith” – until now. At this point, Charlie mentions that “it’s the way Mr. Mason took it” that got him feeling blue – “he thinks I’m a quitter.” The audio recording of this broadcast shows that there was no “Mason” – only Smith. Perhaps an early draft of the script had the Superintendent as “Mr. Mason.” The idea was to illustrate that Charlie was not feeling well, but I don’t think the plan was to have him bounce back and forth between calling the Supe “Mr. Smith” and “Mr. Mason.”

For his part, the Old Timer naturally thought Charlie was not playing things right to let the superintendent think he was afraid of the job. He thought Charlie should have been straight with him, and laid out the whole story. Before the Old Timer could get Charlie to change his mind, Jimmy returned. The first thing Jimmy noticed was how sickly Charlie appeared. Charlie began to mumble about how his head hurt, and that he couldn’t see.

JIMMY:          Say, you got a chill ----------- your eyes are wild!

CHARLIE:      (MUMBLING AS IN A DILIRIUM)  You can quit and take a rest, your father’s going to be train dispatcher over at Havre.

JIMMY:          Why, Charlie! Are you out of your head? What’s he talking about, Old Timer?

OLD TIMER:  He ------------- I don’t know, son.

CHARLIE:      It’s getting light ------------- I can see again now ------------ twelve o’clock ----------- time to quit --------- there comes my relief now ------------ I see his light on the snow ------------

JIMMY:          Don’t get up out of your chair! Charlie!

OLD TIMER:  Catch him, Jimmy, catch him! He’s falling!

JIMMY:          I can’t hold him.

                (THUD OF BODY ON FLOOR)

Jimmy frantically asked the Old Timer what to do. Charlie weakly muttered that he was going on a long trip, fading off with “if you want me, call BF.”

Charlie lapsed into a coma, and stayed like that for over a week. In the meantime, Jimmy and the Old Timer got word to the Superintendent to stop by at Blackfoot to talk. When Mr. Smith arrived, he was brought up to date on Charlie’s condition.

MR. SMITH:  What does the Doctor say?

OLD TIMER:  He says all the flu symptoms are gone, and Charley ought to be O.K., but it’s sorta queer case. The Doc can’t just make it out. He thinks maybe it’s worry that has put him into this condition. Sort of a coma, he says.

MR. SMITH:  You know I got Charlie all wrong the other day. It wasn’t like Charley to lay down that way – didn’t know what to make of it.

JIMMY:          Well, he didn’t give up, Mr. Smith. He’s a real fighter – but ------ but, he was weak from the flu, and then when you said he was – yellow – well, that was kind of a knockout punch ………. Mr. Smith.

MR. SMITH:  I’m sorry, but I didn’t understand. He said he was afraid to tackle that train dispatcher’s job at Havre. How could I have guessed he was giving it up for your sake, my boy?

JIMMY:          No you -------------------- couldn’t have guessed, Mr. Smith. I didn’t know either, Mr. Smith.

The Old Timer brought the conversation back to finding a solution to bring Charlie out of his coma, sharing how the doctor said they needed to noodle out something to make an impression on his brain. Jimmy added that it needed to be something connected with a long habit. Smith had the big “A-ha” moment.

MR. SMITH:  Say, here’s an idea! You said in your letter that the last thing he said when he passed out was “If you want me, call BF.”

     (PAUSE)   Supposing we set up a peanut telegraph line beside his bed and call him?

JIMMY:          Say, I’ll bet he would answer!

OLD TIMER:  Dog my cats, that is an idea!

MR. SMITH:  Jimmy, go tell the operator to give you sounders, keys, batteries and all the rest of it.

JIMMY:          Right away, Mr. Smith. Jiminy crickets (ad.lib. off)   (RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.   DOOR SLAMS, OFF)

Jimmy soon returned with all the telegraph gear.

OLD TIMER:  Jimmy’s here with the telegraph instruments, Mr. Smith. All set?

MR. SMITH:  (IN HUSHED TONE)  Yep, we’ll put one key and sounder on the table here, pull it over beside Charlie’s bed. Put the others out in the kitchen, Jimmy. Help us unroll this wire, will you, Old Timer?

OLD TIMER:  You want one end of the line in here and the other out in the kitchen?

MR. SMITH:  Yes. That’s right. Pull the shades about half way down. He’ll think he’s at the Office.

JIMMY:          (FRIGHTENED)   Say, I can’t hear Charlie breathe any more! We’re not ------  too late?  Are we?

               (PAUSE)

OLD TIMER:  His pulse is still beating. But he’s miles away.

MR. SMITH:  (SOFTLY)  Charlie, old boy, this is going to be a long-distance call.

Just then, Charlie’s girlfriend, Kathy, arrived, and she was quickly enlisted to help. The men told her Charlie was likely to respond to her telegraph call more readily than anyone else’s.

KATHY:         All right ------- I’ll try.

MR. SMITH:  Here we go! Give him his call, Kathy.

(KATHY CALLS  -  (BF  -  BF   etc.)  ON WIRES, WAITS, CALLS AGAIN)

KATHY:         Oh God make him hear – oh God you must.  (Telegraph continues)

OLD TIMER:  He’s moving around on his bed!

MR. SMITH:  Stay with it, Kathy.

(PAUSE)   (Telegraph then continues)

Charlie began to rouse out of his coma, and Kathy felt compelled to run to his side. The men held her back.

MR. SMITH:  No Kathy, not yet. Quick! Send him this!  “Report Havre (clicks)  Tomorrow  (clicks)  to fill vacancy  (clicks)

           (KATHY TELEGRAPHS – TRAIN DISPATCHER  (CLICKS)

CHARLIE:      (SHOUTS ALOUD FROM BEDROOM)  Dispatches – Montana Division – Oh Kathy Kathy – and tomorrow we’ll be ------

Charlie got his wits about him again, and before long he came to understand that he had been ill with the flu, and was in a coma for many days. Then they explained to him that he really was being sent to Havre for the dispatcher job there. But still Charlie protested, worried about Jimmy and his father. The Superintendent was finally able to sort things out for Charlie.

MR. SMITH:  See here, Charlie, you don’t think your new job is the only good one the Great Northern has, do you? Jimmy’s dad is going to have a job at Havre right next door to you. Jimmy and the family are going along, and Jimmy isn’t going to do a thing but go to High School and build himself up. What do you think of that job, Jimmy?

Charlie and Kathy were all giddy with these glad tidings. Charlie tripped over his tongue trying to thank Mr. Smith.

MR. SMITH:  You don’t need to. You took a devil of a long trip, though Charlie --- and any time a man comes back as far as you did to answer his call, well that’s the kind of boys we need on the Great Northern.

     (TRANSITION MUSIC UP AND FADE FOR CLOSING CREDIT)

The dialog and narration differ a little between the draft copy of the continuity I have, and the recorded audio of the actual broadcast. That is to be expected, but the differences can be interesting. I’ll let you find and listen to the existing recording, but here is Ted Pearson’s closing commentary, according to my copy of the continuity:

ANNOUNCER:

One of the things that has helped to make the Great Northern a dependable railway is the enthusiasm of Great Northern men and women. Great Northern employees believe that theirs is the greatest railway in the world, and they are prepared to fight for their ideal – fight the weather, fight sickness and even death. The trains must go through – the service must carry on … that is the motto of the thousands of Great Northern people whose daily lives is the life of the road itself. They built the Great Cascade Tunnel; they straightened out the curves and reduced the grades along the right-of-way; they man the trains and the signal towers and the other services that the casual traveler never sees – gigantic shops; roundhouses; isolated telegraph stations; track, snowshed, and tunnel inspection and construction departments … all the myriad of roles that go to make up a dependable railroad. Tonight as you listen to this Empire Builders Program, Great Northern freight and passenger trains are speeding east and west with their precious cargoes; operators bend over their instruments under shaded lights in silent, darkened villages; the clang of metal resounds in cavernous shops …. the Great Northern carries on!

If you compare Ted Pearson’s statements to the commentary used to close the St. Paul Dispatch article from 1924, you’ll see a similar effort to use J.T. Phelan’s (and our Great Northern hero Charlie’s) miraculous rescue from coma as a platform for applauding a working man’s devotion to duty:

The man who loves his work, answers, when all other voices fail, to its call. The man who loves his work and who loves a good woman has about all the good the gods provide. The sounds and scenes of a man's work become ingrained in him, particularly if he has that pride in his artifice born of skill in it and long practice. Every calling has its voice to the man who follows it faithfully; and when his ear is deaf to all other sounds, it is attuned to the familiar note and responds.

Let that be a lesson to you. Should you ever find yourself in a coma, and someone starts tapping out your initials in Morse code, snap out of it, will you? Okay then.

 

Alonzo W. "Sen" Kaney, pictured in Radio Digest magazine
January, 1930

The audio recording of this broadcast only named Hays, Ameche, and Husting as the players. My copy of the show's continuity also names NBC announcer Sen Kaney as Mr. Smith, the superintendent, and names the actor who portrayed Jimmy as Luis-something. The paper is damaged, and a hole pierces the first part of the last name, but the actor's name appears to be Luis Perez. I've never heard of a radio performer by that name. Have you? If so, please let me know.

 

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