310223 - Topic: James J. Hill

Recording Status:  Recorded, not circulating

 

James J. Hill, builder of an empire (and the Great Northern Railway).

This presentation of Empire Builders was one of 31 broadcasts in the final season of the series to be recorded off the air as a quality check for the Great Northern. I am still researching the history of the digitizing of known recordings, but at this time their evolution is not clear to me. However, this particular episode is one of 22 that surfaced on reel-to-reel tapes a couple of years ago, and is in the process of being digitized. In the meantime, I also have a copy of the continuity.

As I’ve written about previously, the first three weekly broadcasts of this two-and-a-half year radio advertising campaign focused on the life of the GN’s founder, James J. Hill. He was without doubt a remarkable man who lived a remarkable life. Even following his death, the railroad he built from the ground up continued to sustain itself and grow within the enormous shadow of his business philosophies and influence.

The very first performance of the Empire Builders dramas – that of January 14, 1929 – was reenacted on February 2, 1931. As the series was beginning to wind down in this final season, it was decided to go back to the well again (touching on the life of Mr. Hill), but with a couple of fresh stories. This night’s program was reported to be part of a new series of episodes in the life of the Empire Builder himself. And once again, Edward Hale Bierstadt wrote these stories as he did the first series.

By this time, it would seem Bierstadt had come to a personal understanding of just how compelling Hill’s story was. He wrote of Hill’s dreams for building a great transportation system, but in telling this story he also made it abundantly clear Hill was every bit as much a doer and he was a dreamer. Here are the opening remarks by announcer Ted Pearson, as shown in the continuity:

ANNOUNCER:   Empire Builders presents tonight the first of a series of dramatic episodes from the life of James J. Hill, the Empire Builder. All his life this man dreamed of great deeds; and when his star of destiny blazed white and brilliant over the hazy horizons of limitless plains, he transmitted the fabric of his dreams into steel …… steel for the slim ribbons of rails that pierce the far places ….. steel for the locomotives that roar their resistless way through the night …. Bearing goods and treasure and precious lives onward toward the setting sun. He was a man, this Hill; a man and a maker of men. His life is a saga of achievement – he built where others temporized … and his greatest monument is that shining pathway of steel that traverses the land he loved; the railway that he conceived and fought for; the fruition of all his long life’s work – the Great Northern – Jim Hill’s Road.

Not unlike many episodes of Empire Builders, this one found the Old Timer once again riding the rails. He must have had a lifetime pass. And not unlike several other stories aboard a Great Northern passenger train, the Old Timer quickly found himself deep in conversation with a young woman – one with “man troubles.” In this instance, the character identified only as “GIRL” is found crying when the Old Timer stumbles into her. She volunteered that she had not one but two men waiting for her in St. Paul. She had promised to marry one of them. Up to this point (and with time slipping away with every mile of track they put behind them), she had not decided which beau it would be. In reply to the Old Timer’s question of “which one?” she said:

GIRL:              That’s just it! They’re both terribly nice, but the only one I want to marry lives way out – on the west coast!

Seems the young gal was from out Boston way, and was very unsure of what might await her out west. Much as a lifelong westerner might believe the eastern seaboard of the U.S. is all one massive stretch of pavement and high-rise buildings, she seemed to have it in her head the west was still the land of pioneers living in log cabins and keeping their guns handy in case of attack by bears. Or Indians. Or both.

It was almost like the situation was a made-to-order opportunity for the Old Timer to launch into more of his engaging yarns about the great Pacific Northwest. Oh – that’s right – that’s exactly what this was.

Being the de facto spokesman for the Great Northern Railway, the Old Timer proceeded to tell “GIRL” all about Jim Hill and his dreams and deeds. He mentioned at the outset that Hill was blind in one eye: “He only had one eye, but he saw a heap more with that one than most of us do with two.” It is well-documented that James J. Hill was badly injured in a boyhood mishap with a bow and arrow. He was taken to a doctor who managed to reattach his eye into the socket, but was unable to restore his vision in that eye.

A conversation was played out (prior to the bow and arrow mishap) between a young Jim Hill and his father, in which it was revealed that Jim had ideas of growing up to be a surgeon. He then related to his father a dream he had recently, about being a surgeon in Japan. It involved the daughter of the Emperor, who was gravely ill. The Emperor implored any available physicians to save his daughter. On the one hand, he who saved her would be given her hand in marriage. Failure, however, would result in the would-be savior’s death. The dreaming Jim Hill stepped up and performed his miracle, and took the beautiful maiden as his bride.

The scene switched back to a conversation again between young Jim and his father. After a fatherly comment or two about the virtues of hard work and such, the elder Hill asked his prodigy what plans he had for the remainder of the day. Jim told his father that we was heading outdoors to play with his buddy, a boy named Bob Bone [which is likely fictitious, but it would be interesting to know if I’m mistaken about that]. Jim and Bob were going to play Robin Hood with homemade bows and arrows. As only a parent can, Mr. Hill warned his son to be careful (knowing darned well that the admonition held scant value).

Most modern sources that describe this next event indicate Jim Hill managed to injury himself, in some cases describing how the bowstring snapped and the arrow somehow propelled backwards into his face. The rendition offered in the continuity is quite different. If the story were pure fabrication from start to finish, I wouldn’t think anything of it. But as I’ve pointed out before, there was a strong commitment with Empire Builders stories to be factually correct. I have to wonder if this accounting of the accident was one of the details that Bierstadt learned from Hill’s elderly brother, Alexander, who was interviewed at length when the radio series was just getting off the ground:

BOB:   Say, Jim which of us is going to be Robin Hood?

HILL:  Well, you can if you want to. I don’t care. I’d just as soon be Little John. He was a better shot anyhow.

BOB:   He was not! Little John was better with the quarter-staff, maybe, but he couldn’t shoot like Robin Hood!

HILL:  Well, if I’m being Little John, then he was the best shot!

BOB:   I’ll bet you I’m the best shot! I’ll bet you I could shoot an apple off your head!

HILL:  That’s not Robin Hood. That’s William Tell.

BOB:   I don’t care who it is. I’ll bet I could do it.

This is just the point at which I’m inclined to pitch an ancient bromide, like “it’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye…,” or to paraphrase a much more recent invention “hey Jim – hold my apple a minute and watch what I can do!”

HILL:  I’ll bet you couldn’t!

BOB:   I’ll bet you don’t dare put an apple on your head and let me try!

HILL:  I’ll bet I will! … There! There’s an apple. You go off about twenty feet, and I’ll put it on my head.

BOB:   All right …. You ready, Jim?

HILL:  I’m ready.

BOB:   You sure you’re not scared, Jim? I wouldn’t want to hurt you.

HILL:  Of course I’m not scared. But you don’t dare to shoot!

BOB:   I do too dare! Are you ready?

HILL:  All right. Shoot!

What could possibly go wrong? But I’ve already explained that.

(THE TWANG OF THE BOW AND A SHARP CRY FROM HILL)

BOB:   Jim! Jim – I’ve hit you! I didn’t mean to do it! Jim – are you much hurt?

HILL:  I – I’m afraid I am, Bob. It hit me in the face. I – I can’t see out of one eye at all.

BOB:   It’s bleeding a lot too. Here – take my handkerchief. I’ll go home with you, and we’ll get a doctor right away. Gee, Jim, I’m sorry!

HILL:  Don’t you mind, Bob. It … was my fault I put you up to it. I – I can’t see very well, Bob. I guess you’ll have to help me.

BOB:   I’ll get you there all right. Maybe it isn’t as bad as it looks.

HILL:  It hurts a lot, and – I can’t see …. I guess – I won’t get to be a surgeon – after all.

The broadcast segued back to the interior of the passenger train, and the Old Timer continued his tale of Jim Hill’s ascension to greatness by first making an abortive effort to head off to the Orient by way of the Atlantic Ocean. The Old Timer explained that Hill only made it as far as Syracuse, New York, before his money ran out. As our faithful narrator and spinner of yarns told it, Hill took up with a farmer and helped bring in the harvest by operating a mowing machine.

Next up for the broadcast was a scene that played out between Jim Hill and the farmer, Mr. Boone. As the two took a break from their work and talked over lunch, Jim began to reveal his remarkable visions of the future. Boone asked Hill what it was that inspired him so about the Orient. Hill said: “for hundreds of years, the riches of the world have come out of the east, and men have been trying to find the shortest way of getting at ‘em. I want to go and see for myself.” So Boone asked him, if he did make it all the way to China, what then?

HILL:              Well, sir, just as sure as I’ve got a hat on my head, some day all the country between here and the Pacific coast is going to be developed, and when that day comes we’re going to need somebody to buy the things they’ll produce. I think the Far East is the place – if we can get at it easily – and we’ll be the market for Far Eastern produce – raw silk and all sorts of things.

FARMER:       Jim, if you wasn’t such a good farm hand I’d think you was gone in the head!

HILL:              Well, we’ll see, but I was thinking just a few minutes ago – that’s why I forgot dinner – that there’s an opportunity just waiting round the corner out there for me. You see, Mr. Boone, it’s like this.

The radio play then launched into a enactment of a couple of Chinese characters stressing over a famine that was threatening to devastate their land (“eat your broccoli, kid – there are starving children in China!”). Just as Jim Hill had dreamed about becoming a surgeon and coming to the rescue of a lovely Japanese maiden, he seemed to envision himself yet again coming (in this case sailing) to the rescue of the starving Chinese populace.

MAN:              (COMING ON)  Your Excellency! … Your Excellency, Tsing Tso!

TSING TSO:   Quick, man, and speak your message! What news? And who is this white man?

MAN:              (APPROACHING)  Your Excellency! Your Excellency Tsing Tso! I bring American man – captain of great ship in harbor – ship from America – with food – food for us!

Sure enough, James J. Hill (at least in his reckoning of the future) arrived on this scene of desperation captaining an entire ship loaded with grain – grain harvested from vast wheat fields of the vast realm that stretched from Minnesota to Washington state. And of course, not being one to sit back on his laurels and gloat, Jim Hill and the grateful Chinese in his tale of salvation arranged to load his ship with tons of treasure from China to ship back to America (Hill always understood the folly of running freight in only one direction – empty ships and rail cars don’t bring in much revenue). One last exchange between Hill and farmer Boone caused Hill to quote something his old mentor William Weatherall once told him: “‘First, production; then, transportation; and last, the market.’ The transportation is what interests me.”

James J. Hill was a dreamer. What set him apart from most other dreamers
was that he was also a doer.
Author's collection

At this point the continuity was about to segue back aboard the Great Northern passenger train and the conversation between the Old Timer and “GIRL.” In the process, the continuity indicated the sound effects crew were to produce a train whistle of one long and two short toots – warning of another train approaching. As the Old Timer and his rapt audience were chatting together, the sound of a freight whistle was to be heard, followed by a “(PASSING TRAIN EFFECT).”

The Old Timer went on to explain how Jim Hill did make it to the east coast of the United States – New York, Philadelphia, and Baltimore – but he came up empty both in the way of finding passage across the Atlantic and finding a job. He switched gears, and had a notion to track down an old school friend at Fort Garry (now Winnipeg).

GIRL:              Goodness! He certainly changed his mind in a hurry!

OLD TIMER:  He was following his star, and his star moved westward. Well, by the time he had worked his way out to St. Paul, winter had set in, the last ox-train for Fort Garry had left, and there was nothin’ to do but stay in St. Paul till the first train, in the spring. Well! St. Paul was just one street on the waterfront in those days, but that was enough for Jim. It was right there in St. Paul that he laid the foundation for his fortune.

GIRL:              I think I’m tired of hearing about his fortune, and his dreams. Can’t you tell me just one thing about him where he was just – a man?

OLD TIMER:  Land of glory, I could tell you a hundred! But as long as we’re talking of Jim’s early days in St. Paul, I’ll tell you one story that showed him as a man all right. It was one evening when Jim was walking down the street with a friend.

Some transitional music brought the story to Jim Hill and a fellow named Charlie Coffin. The two were making their way past some rum joints in St. Paul, and Jim was lamenting about the disgusting pointlessness of inebriated behavior. Just then, a couple of drunks who knew the two men staggered up and tried to draw them into their wanton debauchery. Jim and Charlie had to bash the drunks in the noggin to get them to back off. The two men with the greater moral fiber then lamented how badly St. Paul needed to be straightened out.

OLD TIMER:  Well, that was Jim Hill all over. When he believed in a thing, whether it was a dream or a principle, he was always ready to fight for it. That was why he won.

          (WHISTLE)

GIRL:              Do you know that in all this story so far there’s one funny thing?

OLD TIMER:  What’s that?

GIRL:              Why – there aren’t any women in it!

OLD TIMER:  Sakes alive, and you a woman too! Well, now I sort of skipped Jim’s mother – thought I’d tell you about her some other time – but the one big romance in Jim’s life came along just about now, in his early days in St. Paul. It was there that he met Mary.

If you’ve gotten the impression that the story was kind of jumping back and forth a little, you would be correct. Keep in mind, this was just a 30-minute radio play, and they were attempting to touch on a considerable number of aspects of Jim Hill’s character and visions for the future.

Mary and James J. Hill, late in life.
Minnesota Historical Society collection

The dramatic performance continued with a scene involving Jim Hill and Mary Mehegan – the woman who would become his wife. This was one more ample opportunity to lay out some of Hill’s ideas about the transportation empire that he would soon build.

MARY:       It’s a big country, Jim. Who’s going to open it up?

JIM:            Who knows? Maybe I’ll have a hand in it. I’d like to. Transportation, Mary, that’s the big thing.

MARY:       Transportation! We’ve got boats on the Mississippi, we’ve got ox carts. But what this country needs Jim, is a railroad, don’t you think?

JIM:            I’ve thought of that. We’ll get it. Give us time. Some day, Mary, you’ll be able to go from St. Paul to Seattle by rail, and from there …

MARY:       And from there – yes?

JIM:            And from there – ships to the east – to India, China and Japan. I’ve always dreamed of that.

MARY:       If only dreams came true!

The story switched back once more to the passenger train, and the conversation between the Old Timer and “GIRL.” On a foundation of the tales of James J. Hill, the young woman found inspiration to help her set her own course.

GIRL:               Why – he was human after all!

OLD TIMER:   You’re right, he was human. Jim Hill was a man! … Well, that’s the story – or a little of it anyways. And now you’re headed west, just like Jim Hill, and like Jim Hill you’ve got a dream to follow. You can’t disappoint that.

GIRL:               I suppose – I can’t. After all, it doesn’t matter so much where you live, as long as …

           (CROSSING WHISTLE)

OLD TIMER:   As long as you really want to live there! That’s it. So, if I were you, I’d marry the man I wanted, and I wouldn’t worry about much of anything else.

GIRL:               But – I was going to do that all along!

OLD TIMER:   And you were cryin’ about it! Singe my whiskers, women are – women! … And what’s his name?

           (CROSSING BELL)

GIRL:               His name is Jim!

Well, dog my cats! His name is Jim. Why wouldn’t it be?

GIRL:               But not …

GIRL:               (LAUGH)  No – not Jim Hill!  BOTH LAUGH.

           (MUSIC IN QUICKLY DROWNING TRAIN. FADE FOR ANNOUNCEMENT)

A 1925 illustration titled "A Vision Realized." This was an homage to James J. Hill, and the vision he had of building - and accomplishing - a major transportation network across the Pacific Northwest of the United States.

The evening’s presentation drew to a close with some parting words from announcer Ted Pearson. It was one more opportunity to summarize some of the amazing accomplishments of James J. Hill.

ANNOUNCER:          James J. Hill was a fighter who never learned to quit. Practically single-handed he built the Great Northern. He had no government subsidy to aid him; and the railway that he built has never failed in its dividends to its stockholders. Today it stretches from a St. Paul grown greater with the years to the mighty young cities of the North Pacific coast – cities that have drawn their strength from the railway Jim Hill built. Even now it is pressing on farther and farther; in a few short months its famous Empire Builder named for that first great Empire Builder, will run regularly all the way to California. The Great Northern, with its far-flung connections with the famous Burlington system, today offers transportation that covers the west like some great net. The Pacific Northwest; California; the Gulf of Mexico and the Southwest; each is served in some measure, great or small, by the Great Northern.

                                    Tonight’s Empire Builders playlet again featured Harvey Hays as the Old Timer. The cast also included Bernadine Flynn, Lucille Husting, and Don Ameche. The Great Northern orchestra was under the direction of Josef Koestner. The next playlet of this series will be presented by Empire Builders on March 23rd.

(MUSIC UP AND SEGUE TO SPEEDING TRAIN EFFECT UP AND OUT. MUSIC UP AND FADE)

                                    This is Ted Pearson speaking. Empire Builders, a presentation of the Great Northern Railway, comes to you each Monday evening at this time from the NBC Studios in Chicago.

 

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

310216 - Glacier Park Dance Hall

 

Recording Status:  Recorded, circulating

 This is another example of the circulating recordings of Empire Builders broadcasts for which some (undoubtedly well-meaning) person made up their own title: in this case, “Spike Wants the Girl.” Now, when you listen to the story, it’s certainly understandable why they would invent this name. But it is not the name given to this broadcast by the Great Northern Railway. That name was simply “Glacier Park Dance Hall.” It is also represented in archived corporate papers as “Montana Ghost Town – Altyn.” GN radio advertising expense accounts for the month of February 1931 also mention paying a man named Roger Banning for a story called “Glacier Park.” One source from December of 1920 indicates a police reporter for the St. Paul Pioneer Press – Roger Banning – left the newspaper for a position as assistant advertising manager of the Tri-State Telephone and Telegraph Company. There may be no connection here; for now, these are merely clues. But this is an example of the kinds of rabbit holes I sometimes have to dive into to put together the pieces.

 

I have not yet located a continuity for this broadcast of Empire Builders, but at least we do have the circulating digitized copy of a 1931 air check recording. The copy circulating on the internet is not very good, but we can make out most of it clearly enough to get the gist of it.

I have located recordings of this broadcast on two different media, cassette tape and reel-to-reel. They are both in the process of being digitized by people with expert equipment and know-how. I still have no idea how the circulating copies came into being, such as when or by whom they were digitized. I am also still working to determine how close to “original” transcription the cassettes and reel-to-reel tapes are. In both cases, it seems the taped versions were created in the late 1980s. It may prove to be very interesting if the taped versions come out cleaner and of better overall quality than the existing, circulating copies currently available on the internet.

This night’s broadcast opened with announcer Ted Pearson welcoming the Old Timer to the microphone. Pearson asked the Old Timer where he was taking the audience for this program. The Old Timer recalled going on a horseback ride near Many Glacier Hotel in Glacier National Park, but before he could launch into an equestrian tale of the Montana Rockies, Pearson stopped him and asked the Old Timer to bring the folks up to speed on how things were progressing for the upcoming Old Timer’s Tour of Glacier Park in July. The Old Timer gave this report:

When I said we’d let some of our radio friends join us, and make up a party of 40, well, I sorta got swamped with letters!

Ted Pearson declared this must be good news – the party of 40 was accounted for. The Old Timer said “Forty? Forty, and then some I guess, Ted.” Pearson challenged the Old Timer on this point, reminding him he said they could only take 40 participants on the tour. The Old Timer then asked, “I can take more than one vacation, can’t I? I don’t aim to disappoint any of my friends, if I can help it. But I tell you Ted, I guess we’ll just have to fix up more than one trip.”

The Old Timer then began to gloat a bit about the volume of letters that had come in, and the number of people who declared they were prepared to spend a ten-day vacation with him in Glacier Park. Then the Old Timer commented on one letter in particular, one he claimed had come in from Mike Shannon, operator of “Mike’s Place” at Glacier Park Station. The Old Timer had Ted Pearson read from Shannon’s letter.

ANNOUNCER:    “Mike’s Place, Glacier Park, Montana. Where the east and the west are one. Open day and night. Dear Old Timer, when you and your friends visit Glacier Park next summer, you can buck your old bear paw snow shoes at the rawhide string on the door of Mike’s Place will be hung on the outside for all you folks. Be sure and let a yell out of you as you come in, and I’ll see what the punchers can do for you. Signed, Mike Shannon.”

Circa 1950s postcard view of Mike's Place at Glacier Park Station (photo by Jim Davis).
Mike Shannon opened his first "Place" in 1917, but it burned down in 1924. He rebuilt it within five years, and the Old Timer took his touring party there in early July of 1931. The unlucky Shannon saw his Place burn to the ground again only weeks later, at the end of July, 1931. He rebuilt once more the following year, and the building still stands.

Program producer Don Bernard came to the microphone and (with mildly feigned indignation) admonished Pearson and the Old Timer about carrying on so much, when there was a show to put on. Pearson explained they had been discussing Mike’s Place, the dance hall at Glacier Park Station. Pearson then hit on the idea that the Old Timer might have a story or two he could share about that popular watering hole, the summer hang-out of Glacier Park Hotel employees, Great Northern railroaders, dude wranglers of the Park Saddle Horse Company, and tourists alike.

Rather than piling on more unpaid advertising for Mike Shannon's operation at Glacier Park Station (today known as East Glacier), the Old Timer instead told a tale of one of the area's ghost towns - the old mining camp of Altyn, which existed for only a short period of time on the east side of the park. Here's a brief synopsis of Altyn from the National Park Service:
"The mining town of Altyn was active from 1898 to 1902 with a peak population of 600-800 people. It provided a store, post office, hotel, cabins, tents, a newspaper, numerous saloons, and other establishments usually found in a boomtown. Much of the former townsite now lies under the west end of Sherburne Reservoir."

The Old Timer conjured up memories of a horseback ride near Many Glacier Hotel with a young couple, and the orchestra provided a musical bridge to take the listeners back to an earlier incident up in the park. An uncredited singer warbled a few bars of “The Cowboy’s Dream” before the conversation picked up between the Old Timer and his companions, Joan and Peter. 

It would be a few weeks before Marc Williams, the “Cowboy Crooner,” would be announced as a new feature on Empire Builders, so I’m pretty sure this was not Williams singing on the broadcast. However, you can listen to a reasonably good quality copy of Williams’ 1928 studio recording of “The Cowboy’s Dream” and make your own opinion. Even given the disappointing quality of the radio recording, I think the style and pitch are so divergent that it must be another performer than Marc Williams. But remember that name. I’ll be writing more about the Cowboy Crooner in the near future.

 

The Old Timer launched into a yarn about a dance hall girl named Jenny Fitzgerald, who was a featured performer at the Buffalo Horn Saloon. The audio in circulation is very poor in this section of the story, so it’s difficult to pick out all the detail. It seems Jenny was chatting with the one-legged piano player named Charlie about her discouraging circumstances, and he shared his opinion that she ought to clear out and get a fresh start somewhere else. Jenny said she didn’t dare. The saloon owner, Spike, had threatened to kill her the last time she spoke of leaving.

As they continued their conversation, Jenny admitted that she had surprised herself by falling for Buck Brewster, a man being chased by the law for holding up a pack train. Jenny let on how she had been in touch with Buck, and that they’d be seeing each other again soon. But Charlie warned Jenny about the reward – a big one – that was out for Buck’s capture. Jenny divulged to Charlie that she and Buck had plans to run off together that very night. She added that the sheriff would be out of town for a couple of days, so there’d be no trouble for Buck to show himself and rendezvous with her for their escape.

Jenny added that Spike was the only hombre in town low-down enough to try to take Buck in for the reward, and that Spike had gone down into the valley for the day. She believed there would be no danger at all for Buck.

Just then, Spike himself appeared, barking and hollering at Charlie for lounging around and not playing piano, like he was paid to do. Spike demonstrated his rough and mean character, dismissing Charlie as a “peg-legged cripple.”

After Spike chased good ole Charlie back to the ivories, he laid into Jenny about her clandestine plans to meet Buck Brewster (it seems Spike had some good sources to keep him informed – most low-life frontier saloon owners did, I’ve always heard). Spike eventually let on as to what was eating him – the notion that Buck might run off with “the only gal I got in the place that can get these bums around here to spend any money.”

Once Spike made clear his plans to turn Buck over to the law and get the reward, he shared his ulterior motive – he planned to make Jenny his wife, whether she liked it or not (and she most decidedly did not). At that point, Spike’s intentions became somewhat more clear. It was blackmail. Either Jenny stayed and married Spike (and he would let Buck slip away), or Spike would make sure the sheriff caught up with Buck and jailed him. Jenny expressed her disinclination to acquiesce to his request with the elegantly phrased retort, “you go to hell!” Spike was a real romantic, though. He promised he’d use some of the reward money to buy Jenny some nice jewelry to wear to Buck’s funeral.

Jenny was a tough western dance hall girl, but she had her limits. Spike finally broke her down, and she tearfully agreed to rebuff Buck when he appeared at the saloon that night, but she beseeched Spike to let her say good-bye to her beau.

Later that night, a spirited crowd filled Spike’s Buffalo Horn Saloon. With a roar of appreciation from the half-drunk revelers, Charlie accompanied Jenny as she sang the chorus of “Break the News to Mother,” a sad tune from the days of the Spanish-American war.
 

Jenny took a break from singing and had a seat at a table. She suddenly realized Buck was by her side. He asked, “will you sing like that to me tonight, when we’re out there on the trail?” Jenny couldn’t find the words to respond. Buck asked her what was wrong. She played it coy, and then Buck suggested they stop wasting time and hit the trail. He knew he could be in danger at the saloon, and preferred to skedaddle before any trouble started. But then Jenny dropped the bomb on him.

JENNY:  That’s just it, Buck. I ain’t goin’.

BUCK:    You, you ain’t goin’? Aw, come on, Jen, cut out the kidding. We gotta be on the way.

JENNY:  I ain’t goin’.

BUCK:    Why, what’s up? Didn’t you send a note by the kid just yesterday, tellin’ me you loved me, and you wanted me to come and getchya?

JENNY:  Oh, that, that was yesterday Buck – I – I’ve changed my mind!

BUCK:    You… changed your mind?!

JENNY:  Yes, I – I’m going to stick here. I don’t want to go traipsing off God knows where.

BUCK:    Say, listen – what do you mean, anyway?

JENNY:  Just what I said – I, I don’t love you, Buck.

BUCK:    What? Why … you don’t love me?

JENNY:  I’ve been fooling myself, and you I guess. I can’t go through with it.

Well, it turns out that Buck was one stubborn hombre. He simply didn’t care that Jenny claimed not to love him anymore. He was skipping out on the trail anyway, and as far as he was concerned, she was coming with him. If her mind had changed and she didn’t love him anymore, then he would simply change it back again. It seems Jenny’s plan to chase Buck off with claims of unrequited love just weren’t going to have any effect.

Buck hoisted Jenny up over his shoulder and started to pack her off, but she demanded that he put her down. Buck implored with her that he wasn’t such a bad fellow, and that she’d learn to like him. Jenny couldn’t help herself (especially seeing as how her first ruse had failed so miserably) – she admitted to Buck that she did in fact love him – never stopped. Jenny spilled the beans. Every one of them. She explained all about what Spike was up to, and how it was the blackmail of that dirty skunk that had her trying to dump good ole Buck.

Naturally, that he-man Buck reacted by declaring that he was going after Spike (that dirty skunk), but Jenny tried in desperation to get Buck to just leave, alone. She promised to slip away later and meet up with him, leaving Spike to believe his blackmail had worked (at least long enough for her and Buck to both make their safe escapes). Buck wasn’t too keen about this plan. No, Buck was a man’s man, and as such he felt he had an obligation to face Spike (that dirty skunk) head-on. But Jenny’s insistent pleading, and the affirmation of her true affection for him, caused Buck to agree to her plan. She walked him to the door to say farewell.

Suddenly, Spike (that dirty skunk) appeared from out of the crowd, and began to drawl a self-satisfied taunting of Buck. Jenny and Buck both tried to get Spike (that dirty skunk) to step aside and let Buck depart. Spike had no intention of doing that – never did. He had three sheriff’s deputies with him, and he was intent on collecting the $1,000 reward for Buck’s capture. Did I mention Spike was a dirty skunk?

Jenny exploded at Spike’s double-cross, and lunged at him, fingernails first. Spike fired his gun, and the tragic figure of his best saloon girl lay lifeless on the floor.

Buck was enraged, and only because some of the boys were holding him back did Buck fail to lunge at Spike himself. With Buck sufficiently subdued, Spike shot Buck. Twice. And then Spike began to roar with laughter, like only a dirty skunk can.

It seems there were a few folks in the crowd who kind of liked Buck, and certainly had a shine for Jenny. They watched as Spike gunned them both down, and were particularly incensed by the manner in which Spike shot Buck, while he was being restrained. Spike tried to calm them all down by declaring the first drink was on the house, and there’d be a second free drink when he got his reward money. This did not seem to be quite adequate. Charlie, the piano player, was caught up in the drama, and had stopped playing. Spike yelled at him to get back at it, once again calling him a peg-leg as he demanded that he play. Charlie cried “I’ll play for your funeral, you dirty skunk!” (see, I’m not the only one who thinks that)

A great commotion erupted as the enraged crowd descended upon Spike and ripped away his gun. Then they strung him up.

The orchestra came up again, and as the music faded out, the Old Timer ruminated on the sad tale of Jenny and Buck. “Nobody would ever know they lived, or what Spike did” declared the Old Timer, “but those sticks mark their graves. It’s all that’s left of Altyn. And nobody knows where Spike’s buried. Romance … tragedy … hmm."

The orchestra once more carried us back from the story-telling and to a closing conversation between Ted Pearson and the Old Timer.

ANNOUNCER:    Can you really see where they’re buried, Old Timer?

PIONEER:            You sure can, Ted. The site of old Altyn is just a little ways from Many Glacier Hotel. Why, all the guides know the way. We’ll see it when we go out there this summer on our vacation.

ANNOUNCER:    Say, Old Timer – have you got our vacation all figured out yet?

PIONEER:            (chuckles) Well, every one of the days is all figured out in black and white, Ted, right here.

ANNOUNCER:    And you’re going to take another party of forty – that’s fine!  And that means that some of your radio friends that couldn’t have gone with you otherwise can go, doesn’t it?

PIONEER:            Yes, that’s the idea, Ted. So all of my friends, who want to go, have to do to find out about this vacation trip is to write me, care of the Great Northern Railway, a hundred and thirteen, south Park Street, Chicago. Then I’ll write back and tell ‘em all about it.

ANNOUCNER:    That’s fine! So folks, if you want to join the Old Timer on a glorious ten-day vacation in Glacier National Park this summer, drop him a line, care of the Great Northern Railway, one-one-three south Clark Street, Chicago, Illinois. It’ll be a never-to-be-forgotten vacation, with camping trips, nights along the mountain trail, fishing, launch excursions, automobile journeys, hiking, and other nights at the luxurious hotel, for which Glacier National Park is noted, with dancing, sports, and a wide variety of entertainment. It’s an all-expense vacation, personally conducted by the Old Timer himself. Let me repeat the Old Timer’s address: care of Great Northern Railway, one-one-three south Clark Street, Chicago, Illinois.

 

                              Tonight’s Empire Builders playlet again presented Harvey Hays as the Old Timer, Jenny was Miss Lucille Husting, Buck Brewster was Don Ameche, and Spike was John Daly.

 

                              This is Ted Pearson speaking. Empire Builders, a presentation of the Great Northern Railway, comes to you each Monday evening at this time, from the NBC studios in Chicago.

 

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

 

 

310209 - Chief Black Hawk

Recording status:  recorded, not located

This offering of Empire Builders is one of the last broadcasts remaining in the series for which we have no recording, and no known copy of a continuity. The Great Northern Railway did pay to have this program recorded, but to my knowledge that recording has never surfaced, and might be lost for good.

There are a few things that we do know about this broadcast, however.

While the railroad referred to this play alternately as “Chief Black Hawk” or simply “Black Hawk,” the record is clear that the story submitted by its author was originally titled “Across a Copper Sky.” I think it’s a shame the railroad elected not to use that title.

In the February 9, 1931, Wisconsin Rapids Daily Tribune, the following synopsis of the show was featured:

The story of Black Hawk, famous leader of the Sacs and Foxes in the last great Indian wars of the Mississippi valley, will be presented over WTMJ and NBC stations at 9:30 p.m. Edward Staadt, head of the drama department at the University of Minnesota, is the author of the play from which the radio drama is adapted.

On the same day, the Seattle Times had this preview of the broadcast:

An Indian classic replete with suspense, drama and surprise is given over KOMO at 7:30 o'clock on the program of the Empire Builders. The drama brings to listeners the romantic days in which the famous Indian Chief Black Hawk led his warriors to tragic defeat, while on the fringe of the narrative is a youth, Abraham Lincoln.

The author of this night's play, Edward F. Staadt.

When the Great Northern Railway conducted their radio script contest in the late summer of 1930, one of the conduits for the solicitation of entries was radio station KSTP in St. Paul, Minnesota. The winner of that contest was 31-year-old Edward Fred Staadt. He was head of the Dramatic Department of the School of Speech at the University of Minnesota. As winner of the contest run through station KSTP, Staadt was awarded first prize of $250.

Fortunately for Staadt, he lived long enough to enjoy hearing his radio play performed over the radio on the Empire Builders program.

Sadly, he drowned in Lake Minnetonka in Minneapolis on June 24^th, 1931, before he could celebrate his 32^nd birthday in October.

Edward F. Staadt, 1899-1931

One measure of the lengths to which Harold Sims and the GN management team went to judge the reaction of their radio advertising campaign by the listening public was the open-ended direction made to all GN agents on the line to gather feedback after every broadcast. Some of the correspondence found in the Great Northern archives in St. Paul indicate that very little filtering of feedback was done. Certainly, people providing feedback – voluntarily, and directly to representatives of the railroad – were probably inclined to have something positive to say. The railroad’s methodology of collecting feedback was hardly scientific, and by its very nature may well have left a significant amount of unflattering opinions on the table. However, it is still instructive to see what feedback was coming in on a regular basis, and accept it as the trend that it was.

Here are a few excerpts of feedback collected by GN agents after the airing of Chief Black Hawk:

We heard last night over the radio … a recital of the story of Black Hawk. One of the characters in the sketch was General Joseph W. Street, Indian Agent at Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin. My wife, a granddaughter of General Street, was very much interested, and wants to know the source of the information on which the story was based … My wife was raised at Fort Benton, Montana, her father being in the trading business there during and after the Civil War, and she greatly enjoys your Empire Builders stories. 

                 --  Charles Cunningham, St. Louis, Missouri

Your stories are entertaining and best of all, have a moral, which all good ones have. Your playlet two weeks ago, about the boy and the boat made tears come to our eyes, while last Monday’s proved most interesting to us because we live in that region along the Mississippi where Black Hawk had his camp.

                        --  Verna Kiehue, Burlington, Iowa, in a letter addressed to the Old Timer

Enjoyed your program last Monday night so well that I just feel I must write and tell you about it. Was born and raised in Prairie du Chien so understood your play very clearly. Although it made me feel blue, I enjoyed it. The Fort Crawford is only a short distance from the school I attended. The Black Hawk tree is a thing of the past, it decayed so that it was taken out and I think they have monument there. They also have a monument of Father Marquette in the St. Mary’s College yard.

                        --  Mrs. George Steinbach, Superior, Wisconsin
 

Vintage postcard showing the fabled Black Hawk Tree

 

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

 

 

 

310202 - James J. Hill: Background of Empire

Recording Status:  recorded, circulating

Of the nine circulating Empire Builders shows, which have all been available to old time radio enthusiasts for many years now, this one seems to have been just about the only one of the lot where the correct title of the story was used. However, since it is a retelling of the very first broadcast of the series (back on January 14, 1929), it is worth mentioning that the subtitle should be “Background of Empire.” The story captured anecdotes (fictionalized, of course, but based on real life accounts) of the adventures of James J. Hill in his youth, and his initial arrival near the head of navigation of the Mississippi River, at St. Paul, Minnesota.

If you have arrived at this blog without already being aware, you should know that James J. Hill was the man most responsible for creating and building the Great Northern Railway, one of the most commercially successful and culturally impactful railroads in North America – or perhaps the world. Through all the lives his enterprise touched, all the communities his railroad helped to establish, and all the businesses, farms, and ranches he supported as they grew and flourished, James J. Hill earned the sobriquet “Empire Builder” – and justly so.

 

There were certainly those detractors who disliked, even despised him. But conversely there were many more across the Pacific Northwest who came to darned near revere him. As for the railroad company he built from the ground up, well after his death this institution of his continued to pay him due respects in a variety of ways. This very advertising campaign, the Empire Builders radio series, was a honorific nod to Hill and all the other “empire builders” of the Northwest. When the railroad rolled out their new premier passenger train in June of 1929, it was naturally named the “Empire Builder.” And this same passenger route, with only minor alterations, continues to serve the same territory with daily service as Amtrak’s “Empire Builder.”

The Empire Builders radio series would only remain on the air for less than five more months, but in that time, the weekly radio broadcasts highlighted events in the life of James J. Hill twice more after this night's program. The broadcast of February 23^rd featured what the GN called “the first of a series of dramatic episodes from the life of James J. Hill, the Empire Builder.” At the end of that program, they announced the next such installment would air on March 23^rd, but evidently plans changed. On that date, Empire Builders presented a story about Charlie Russell. A story about Jim Hill aired on March 30^th – this was the one that had been scheduled for March 23^rd.

This night’s radio broadcast opened with a scripted conversation between Harvey Hays as the Old Timer (in character) and his fellow performers Bernardine Flynn and Lucille Husting. The discussion centered on the fact that the Empire Builders players had in fact performed this story once before. However, on that night – January 14, 1929 – the cast of the show was almost completely different. Only Harvey Hays was on hand for both broadcasts.

The actual audio for the broadcast differs considerably from the copy of the continuity that I’ve located. It’s the same preamble conversation between the Old Timer and actresses Flynn and Husting, but the dialog was changed more than what I suspect was simple ad libbing.  You can access the audio and listen to that yourself, but here’s how the dialog played out in the continuity:

            (ORCHESTRA UP AND FADE TO SIGN OF WIND AND GABBLE OF VOICES AROUND CAMPFIRE, WHICH FADES TO BACKGROUND)

OLD TIMER:  Yep, just about two years ago that I begun my radio career! Two years ago th’ fourteenth o’ January, t’ be exact ….

B. FLYNN:     Did you get mike-fright, Old Timer? Were you afraid of the microphone, I mean?

OLD TIMER:  (CHUCKLE)  Well, now, Bernardine, don’t you go a-askin’ personal questions. I –

L. HUSTING: I’ll bet you did, Old Timer. I know I did, first time I faced a microphone.

OLD TIMER:  Well, Lucille, I guess I might ‘s well confess, I did get just a lee-eetle mite a-scared, with that there black box a starin’ at me, an’ everybody a-waitin’ for me to go on.  (CHUCKLE)  Never knowed my voice to sound so loud.

HUSTING:      Funny, isn’t it – speaking about voices – how quiet our voices sound out here among the mountains? Have you noticed it, Bernardine?

FLYNN:          Yes. Especially at night, alongside the campfire like tonight. You just sit here and look up at the stars – aren’t they big and bright? – and you seem so small and insignificant alongside the mountains, so grey and big there against the sky … (VOICE TRAILS OFF AND ONLY THE CRACKLE OF THE CAMPFIRE IS HEARD)

OLD TIMER:  (AFTER A PAUSE)  There was something about stars in that first radio show o’ mine two years ago. Wonder how much of it I could remember.  (MUSINGLY)  ‘Twas a right interestin’ show …

HUSTING:      Let’s hear it, Old Timer. This is a wonderful time and place for a story.

FLYNN:          Yes, do tell it to us, Old Timer.

OLD TIMER:  Well. Let’s see –

(SOFT MUSIC UP AND FADE FOR DIALOGUE)

OLD TIMER:  You was talkin’ ‘bout those stars up there … big, bright, friendly. Jim Hill – that’s who this story’s about – he used to look up at the stars too. Long before he ever dreamed of the Great Northern Railway that he was to build, he had found his star. Jim Hill’s star (MUSINGLY) it led him from the little town in Canada where he was born toward the great East. Then it veered back and brought him to a greater West … a West that he was to make even greater … an Empire that he was to build. He was a great man, Jim Hill was!  (A PAUSE WITH ONLY THE CRACKLE OF FLAMES HEARD)  Jim Hill was born in a little town in Ontario. There wasn’t much for a youngster to do in them days, but he was the usual bright, carefree young fellow you’d expect. His father sent him to school at a tiny academy run by an old feller – a Quaker, he was, named Wetherald. Jim went to this school till his father died. That was when young Jim was about fourteen. And one evening, he made up his mind he’d have to go an’ talk to his old teacher, Mr. Wetherald. He trudged over to the old Quaker’s house, where he held school, and knocked on the door ….

Although it was not explicitly so stated, it seems the listeners were to believe the radio trio was huddled around a cozy campfire in Glacier Park. February 2^nd would be a rather inhospitable time for such outdoor frolicking in the Montana Rockies, as it would be pretty much anywhere else one might imagine: St. Paul, near the headquarters of the Great Northern; up on the roof of the Merchandise Mart in Chicago . . . So much of radio is left to the vivid imagination. It would be interesting to learn just where the listening audience placed the three and their campfire.

The next scene of the program was an exchange between a 14-year-old James J. Hill and his school teacher in Canada, William Wetherald. When the old Quaker learned that young Jim Hill was on the verge of striking out on his own, he challenged the lad to demonstrate that Hill had learned something of consequence through his teachings. What the boy came up with was an appreciation of the exploits of Napoleon Bonaparte. Wetherald tried to reign the kid in a little, when Hill began to hint that he idolized a man who nearly seized control of all of Europe.

W.W.: Napoleon! That man of wrath!

JIM:    Oh, but think what Napoleon did, sir! He wasn’t anybody at all to begin with, and he ended up by being Emperor!

W.W.: He ended up by being food for worms! An emperor without an empire!

JIM:    But, Mr. Wetherald, just think, he did more than that! He led men, thousands of men, and they were glad to die for him. He beat all of Europe, and if they’d let him alone, he’d have made it into one great empire. And he was brave, sir! Don’t you remember, Mr. Wetherald, the bridge at Arcola, where he charged the Austrians?

This juncture of the dialog prompted the writer to segue the story to a vignette of Napoleon and his officer, Auguste de Marmont, taking on the Austrians in a battle to control the bridge at Arcola in 1796. The radio enactment of this three-day battle was essentially just a campy sound bite for what really happened, but when the radio broadcast turned its focus back to Jim Hill and his teacher, Wetherald took the opportunity to impart what he hoped was one last poignant lesson upon his pupil.

W.W.: James, James! Thee does not know war. I pray thee never may. Set not thy face in that direction, for “he that liveth by the sword shall perish by the sword”. So it was with the Corsican. Thee sees the empty glory of one man. There are millions who see only the sorrow. Go thy way, James, and live in peace.

JIM:    Well, maybe you’re right, sir. Anyhow, it wasn’t just the battles that made Napoleon great. It was his star. He conquered an empire!

W.W.: James, come here. I will tell thee something, and I want thee always to remember it. It is a far, far finer thing to build an empire than it is to conquer one! Thee will remember?

And so the listening audience was left to believe that this conversation between Hill and his mentor back in 1852 was formative in the crafting of Hill’s character and determination, traits that were credited with inspiring his ascension to the throne of “Empire Builder” of the American Northwest.

The section of the radio play demonstrated how the teenaged Hill took a job in Guelph, Ontario, to help support his mother and siblings (his father having passed away when Jim was 14). It was supposedly in this job, as older men discussed over the cracker barrel the economics and politics of early railroading in Canada, that Hill began to form his own ideas of how to best operate a transportation system.

James J. Hill, in a photograph taken of him shortly after his arrival at St. Paul.
He was roughly 18 years old in this photo.
MNHS collection

The Old Timer returned to the microphone to explain how Jim Hill, now at the age of eighteen, decided it was time to set out yet again. This time, it was Hill’s intention to travel to India, by way of New York and passage on a merchant vessel where he hoped to earn his keep. Hill did get to New York, but rather than a ship to India, he found an opportunity to travel west, to the head of navigation on the Mississippi River. He wound up at St. Paul, Minnesota.

PIONEER:      Just because you start some place is no particular sign that you’re going to get there! If Jim Hill had got to India that would have been another story. But when he got to New York, Jim couldn’t find the ship he wanted, so he started working his way west again. Finally he got to St. Paul. Just a little settlement on the Mississippi – and all Jim could do was to find a job. As he settled down to grow up with the country, and when the country didn’t grow fast enough to suit him, he just naturally yanked it along after him! St. Paul ate transportation, slept transportation and dreamed transportation in those days, and that was meat to Jim. He’d sooner have that than dinner. Just to show you what sort of a lad Jim was just about then – he was in his twenties – I want to tell you about the time he took it on himself to do a little piloting on the old Mississippi herself, one of the meanest streams to pilot in the world. Jim’s firm was running a steam packet up the river from Dubuque to St. Paul and return and, one night, Jim was on board when something happened. It was like this.

The next scene had Jim Hill aboard the steamer as the ship reached Mendota, just a few miles short of their destination at the Twin Cities. [I’m not familiar with the geography around the Twin Cities, but I’m not so sure about the story’s reference to Mendota – on a map it looks like a steamboat trip on the Mississippi River that reached Mendota would first have to go past St. Paul, and then enter the Minnesota River…] The ship’s pilot asked the captain who was going to relieve him. At this, the captain revealed that it was news to him that the pilot he hired for the trip was not certified to pilot any ship beyond Mendota. The options facing the captain were to tie up and obtain a pilot for the final leg (which would result in an unacceptable delay), or . . .

HILL:              Just a minute, Captain Carter.

CARTER:       Yes, Mr. Hill, you represent the owners. What do you suggest?

HILL:              That’s just it, Captain, I’m responsible for any freight loss incurred. I can’t authorize you to tie up over night. We’re due in Minneapolis tomorrow, and we’ve got to get there!

CARTER:       Perhaps you can suggest how! Who will take the wheel?

HILL:              We – e – ll, I might!

CARTER:       But you’re not a pilot!

HILL:              I know. What I suggest is this. I’ll take the wheel and the responsibility. Mr. Thomas will stand near me, and give me what advice he can. He needn’t take either the wheel or the blame. How about it, sir?

After a predictably harrowing episode of navigating the shallows of that section of the river, Hill of course guided the steam ship safely to its destination. My copy of the continuity stops abruptly at this point. What we know of the ending of the broadcast comes from its only recording, and that is of less than ideal quality. Since this was a retelling of the first Empire Builders broadcast, of January 14, 1929, we also have a copy of that continuity. Although the recording of the 310202 broadcast reveals a few minor edits and/or ad libs, here is the text for the Old Timer’s closing comments from the 290114 broadcast:

PIONEER:      Heh! Heh! That was Jim Hill all over! If he couldn’t get past a sand-bar he’d jump the boat over! Matter of fact, he brought her to St. Paul next day with about thirty timbers broken and half full of water. But he stayed at the wheel until he had brought her in, and not a soul the worse for it! Same day later on when he took to railroading. If he couldn’t run his rails round a mountain, he’d bore a hole in the cussed thing and poked them through! Ye-es, Jim was quite a man. That star of his was a worker. There it is, twinkling up there in the Minnesota sky, right where Jim left it. Well, folks, it’s time fer me to go now. I’ll be back right soon, though, me and Jim Hill. Good bye!

            (THE FIDDLE MUSIC AGAIN)

One notable distinction between the continuity from the first broadcast, and the actual dialog recorded in 1931, is dropping of the word “Minnesota” in describing the night sky. Otherwise, it was very similar.

Ted Pearson came to the microphone and provided the closing announcement.

ANNOUNCER:          You have been listening to Empire Builders – with Harvey Hays as the Old Timer – a presentation of the Great Northern Railway: the swift, clean scenic route between Chicago and the Pacific Northwest. The Great Northern was built by James J. Hill, and it is in his honor that the Great Northern’s crack train, the Empire Builder, is named. This aristocrat of transcontinental flyers makes the journey between Chicago and the Puget Sound cities and Portland, over the short route of low, easy grades and minimum curvature, along the courses of ten great rivers, through the towering splendor of the Rockies and the Cascade Mountains, on to the “Adventure Land of the Pacific Northwest.” The Great Northern Railway maintains both passenger and freight representatives in most of the cities from which this program is broadcast. They will be glad to give you details on traveling or shipping via Great Northern.

This is Ted Pearson speaking. Empire Builders comes to you each Monday night at this time from the NBC studios in Chicago.

Despite the promise he made the previous week, the Old Timer seems not to have provided any new details regarding the planned tours of Glacier National Park in July. At this point in time, officials of the railroad were still nailing down what the future held for the radio series, but it did not look good for continuing the campaign after the scheduled end of the current season on June 22^nd. As for setting up the tours of Glacier Park, it was certain there would be at least one tour conducted, but the plans and logistics of additional tours was uncertain. For his part, Harvey Hays was probably quite happy to spend whatever time the railroad contracted with him to spend in the park. He suffered from hay fever, and the Montana Rockies provided welcome solace. As the weeks went by, the Glacier Park tour plans continued to evolve.

 

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