Wednesday, March 30, 2016

310330 - Mountain of Dreams [James J. Hill]



 

Recording status:  Recorded, not circulating

 
I believe the “Mountain of Dreams” title that I have attributed to this broadcast was another of those stories that the Great Northern memorialized only in the accounting records of the company’s Advertising and Publicity Department.
 
 
In the tallies for the month of March, 1931, they included an accounting for the fee of $25.00 paid for rewriting a story named “Mountain of Dreams.” This was listed chronologically (if not coincidentally) after an entry for artists’ fees pertaining to the March 23rd broadcast, and immediately before a similar artists’ fees entry for the March 30th broadcast. As it turns out, if that was indeed my only reasoning for attributing that title to this night’s broadcast, it appears I was premature. Other references to this broadcast attribute the story to continuity writer Edward Hale Bierstadt, and indicate it was “second of the new series of radio playlets about James J. Hill,” but it looks like we’ll have to drop the “Mountain of Dreams” title. Sounds kind of poetic or something, but it doesn’t quite fit the available evidence, nor – significantly – the theme of the story.


James J. Hill, the "Empire Builder" (1838-1916)


To set the stage for this night’s presentation, here are the significant elements of a press release for this story about the great “Empire Builder”:

The railway magnate is submerged in this story and listeners are shown some of the little-known phases of Mr. Hill’s character, temperament and interests.

Starting with young Jim Hill as a clerk down on the river levee in Saint Paul, in the early river-boat days, the story unfolds incidents that shed light on the personal characteristics of the man who later became known as the Empire Builder.

The role of Hill as a young man is taken by Don Ameche, while Hill as a railway magnate and art connoisseur is portrayed by William Rath. A colorful musical background is provided by Josef Koestner, conductor of the Great Northern orchestra.

My copy of the continuity is once again missing a few critical pages, such as the first one. In the absence of a printed copy, I have transcribed portions of the opening of the broadcast from a surviving copy of the audio. Here are the opening comments provided by Ted Pearson, the announcer for Empire Builders:

ANNOUNCER:    The success that came to James J. Hill, founder of the Great Northern Railway, was not the careless gift of the Gods – he fought for it throughout his whole life, a life that was a continual inspiration to those who labored with him at the task of creating an empire. His career is a story of ceaseless work, and endless struggle. His fight was not so much the furious matching of vigorous opposition, but rather the longer bitterer fight against the passive inaction. But Jim Hill triumphed, and he saw his nebulous dream take form and shape before the eyes of those who had shrugged a shoulder at his mighty vision. He lived to see the day when the Northwest rose from its wild prairies, and its craggy mountains, and took its place in the sun. And had he lived to this day, he would have seen his railway an even stronger power in that great northwest empire – a force to build, and a force to nurture that plan that Jim Hill knew as his own.

Pearson’s comments were followed by music from the studio orchestra, which then faded into some exterior train sounds at a station. Harried travelers scurried to locate their cars on the train, as a porter and conductor helped them get onboard. The train pulled out of the station, and then the scene switched aboard the Empire Builder and a conversation between the Old Timer and another passenger. The author of the story, Edward Hale Bierstadt, took this opportunity to offer once more to the listening audience a pep talk about the country’s struggling economy.

MAN:                    Say, there’s one thing about this Great Northern Railway – it keeps its promises. If it says it’s going to get you there on time, it gets you there on time! That’s a darned sight more than I can say for most things in this country right now.

PIONEER:            Why, stranger, what’s the matter with the country? Looks all right to me. There’s North Dakota running along right beside the train – the bread basket of the world. There’s no finer land anywhere.

MAN:                    That’s all very well, but it looks to me as if the whole world was gone to Blazes – so to speak. Look at this depression we’re going through! No loose money – unemployment everywhere. No – it’s time for all of us to pull in our horns.

The Old Timer took exception to the man’s pessimism, and tried to explain that this was no time for the country’s citizens to be pulling their heads back into their shells like a frightened turtle.

MAN:                    Tell it to the marines!

PIONEER:            Now, hark you! Practically every great fortune that has ever been made here was made by men who believed in the future of their country. They just wouldn’t be discouraged! The men who bet on it to lose – well, they lost themselves and most of them have died poor. Depression! All you need, my friend, is a right good dose of castor oil!

MAN:                    You sure say a lot, but it don’t mean much. As President Cleveland once said – “We’re confronting a condition, and not a theory.”

PIONEER:            Well, now, talkin’ about President Cleveland, I want to tell you something about one of his best friends.

MAN:                    Who was that?

PIONEER:            James J. Hill – Jim Hill, the man who built the Great Northern Railway that we’re a-ridin’ on right now. Jim Hill, he believed in this country when everybody thought he was crazy, and when the so-called experts were dead against him – and he was right!

The Old Timer kept pouring it on until the pessimist he was talking to started to back down a little, and naturally encouraged the Old Timer to tell him all about Jim Hill. The Old Timer launched into a regular history lesson about Jim Hill and the formative years of his empire building.

PIONEER:            Well, I reckon I’ve worked harder in a worse cause! Listen … along about Eighteen Seventy-Seven, Jim Hill made up his mind that the thing for him and his friends to do was to buy up the little St. Paul and Pacific Railway. It was head over heels in debt, but it would provide the link that both Canada and the States needed between St. Paul and Winnipeg. Hill already had considerable interests out here, and was busy buildin’ up the country – interestin’ settlers, and developin’ what little railroad property he already had. The only thing he and his friends needed was money! But just the same, Jim Hill visualized his railroad runnin’ up through the valley of the Red River of the North, and he knew that it would be a great thing. The trouble was to find somebody to believe him! So he waited, he and his Canadian friend, Donald Smith, that was afterwards Lord Strathcona, until Mr. Stephen, President of the big Bank of Montreal, was in Chicago on business and then Hill and Smith got Mr. Stephen to come out to St. Paul and take a ride on the road – just to look it over. I tell you, stranger, when you hear the soft purr and hum of this great Empire Builder train, that’s named after Jim Hill, it’s hard to realize just what travelin’ was in those days. Why, man-alive, we’re travelling faster than a mile a minute right now! And just about as smooth as glass. But them early trains – say, they were different!

The radio continuity called for the scene to change again, to an 1877 conversation between Hill, Stephen, and Smith. The continuity described the needed sound effects, to include “INTERIOR TRAIN EFFECT OF 1877.” Don’t you just wonder how the sound effects technicians felt about those instructions? What exactly should an 1877 train sound like? I suppose it would be difficult to go wrong, as few people alive at that time would have first-hand knowledge of “interior train effects of 1877.”




LEFT: George Stephen, 1st Baron Mount Stephen (1829-1921);
RIGHT: Donald Smith, Lord Strathcona and Mount Royal (1820-1914)
The great transportation triumvirate of Hill, Stephen, and Smith soon found themselves in the little town of De Graff, Minnesota. It remains a little town to this day, by the way – population numbers over the past forty years or so show the number of residents has run from only about 100-200 people. The town was named by Colonel Andrew DeGraff, who along with his own son and others, was responsible for a considerable amount of early railroad building in the region.

Chas. A. De Graff (1843-1887) - railroad builder in Minnesota with his father Andrew De Graff


The three travelers detrained at De Graff, where they encountered Father Ireland and a significant crowd of local inhabitants, celebrating a local holiday. Hill asked Father Ireland how the breeding bulls that he supplied to local ranchers were working out. One such rancher, named Timothy Scanlon, was called over by Father Ireland to explain his experience.

IRELAND:             That’s right, Timothy. Now – come here. This is Mr. Hill, Timothy, who sent you that live bull. Come – tell him about it.

HILL:                     Yes, Scanlon – had any luck with your breeding? That was as fine a bull as I could get.

SCANLON:           Well now, Mr. Hill, I’m sure I’m greatly obliged to you for that bull. I am indeed.

HILL:                     That’s all right. Was he all right?

SCANLON:           Well – the truth is – he was a bit tough.

HILL:                     Tough! Did you say tough?

IRELAND:             Ha! Ha! I’ve been waiting for this!

SMITH:                 By heaven, he ate the bull!

STEPHEN:            There’ll be no breeding from that one!

HILL:                     Well, doggone my hide! Scanlon – what in time did you eat that bull for? Didn’t you understand he was for breeding purposes?

SCANLON:           Breedin’ purposes! Shure, an’ I thought th’ good Father said “eatin’ purposes”!

With a good-natured patience in the radio play that may not have been so evident in real life, Hill readily agreed to send the rancher another breeding bull – if he promised not to eat it.

Next up was Dan McCormick, leader of the town band. Father Ireland asked him to show Hill and his associates how he used his mouth organ to strike up the band. McCormick obliged by playing the opening bars to “Camptown Races” on his harmonica, which the rest of the band took up and played.

When the song ended, and Hill expressed his appreciation for the community’s cultivation of the arts, Father Ireland called over a little nine-year-old girl named Louise Overturf. Little Louise (undoubtedly played by child-voice-specialist Betty White) explained to Mr. Hill that the town had a “liberry” but that it had no books. Hill asked the little girl what was on her mind.

HILL:          Well, Louise, it’s your story. What do you want me to do?

LOUISE:    Well – ah – Mr. Hill – you have so much money – LAUGH.

HILL:          On the contrary, Mr. Stephen will tell you that I’m so poor that I’m trying to borrow some!

LOUISE:    Well – ah – Mr. Hill, there are so many books we want to read – we thought – we thought that if you’d give us a hundred dollars –

Duly impressed by the little lady, Hill made out a check for one hundred dollars on the spot, and handed it to Father Ireland to follow up on. Louise ran off to tell her mother the happy news about the library endowment, and the men went on pontificating about the development of the territory along the railroad. Father Ireland then brought up a ticklish subject involving some of Hill’s disgruntled employees.

IRELAND:             Well – there are a score or more of men in the town here – ex-railroad men – who claim that they’ve been thrown out of work because you employed other labor on the road. Now, you know and I know that isn’t true, but – they’re nasty about it, and they’ve done their best to stir up bad feeling. Indeed, Mr. Hill, they threatened to come down here to meet you today, and it was all I could do to dissuade them – especially big Ole Hanson – he’s a sort of ringleader.

HILL:                     Now listen, Father Ireland – you know, and I know, and they ought to know that in all my life I’ve never treated labor unfairly. I’ll fight for my men as long as they fight for me.

Archbishop John Ireland (1838-1918)
Big Ole Hanson came striding up to the men and asked if one of them was Jim Hill. The Empire Builder identified himself (all the while the good Father thinking it better for Hill to duck out of this threatening confrontation). Hanson began to list his grievances.

HANSEN:             You take our yobs away from us!

HILL:                     Took your jobs! You quit your jobs, Hansen, and you know it.

HANSEN:             You shut your mouth! You give us our yobs back or I’ll break you in two – you little Hill!

HILL:                     Oh! you think you can break me in two do you? You come here at the head of twenty men and threaten me?! Hansen, I think I can whip you – you and your whole family!

HANSEN:             Ay tank ay bost yure had, Hill!

HILL:                     (GRUNTS)  Ha! So you’d slug me, would you? Well – How do you like – this?  (A SLAP)  And just so you can turn the other cheek, try this one!  (A SLAP)  Now if you’ve got anything to say – say it!

HANSEN:             Ay say you got good ponch, Hill. We want our yobs back.

HILL:                     You can’t have them.

It’s probably fair to say that Labor/Management Relations have evolved considerably since 1877, but it’s hard to imagine Hansen and his boys really thought this was a good way to persuade Hill into putting them back on the payroll. Ole’s ire subsided somewhat, and he resorted to pleading. Hill eventually relented and, thinking Ole had been put in his place, acquiesced to the big Swede’s request.

All of this activity seemed to have the intended effect on Stephen, the banker.

STEPHEN:            Hill, you want me to help you finance this road, don’t you?

HILL:                     That’s what we came out here for, Mr. Stephen.

STEPHEN:            Well, I’ll tell you something. First, you showed me the country, and that was good. Next, you showed me your settlers here, and they were good too. But now you’ve shown me a man who believes in the country and can lead the people that live in it. And that’s final! Yes – you can have your loan. I’ll see you all the way through.

HILL:                     (JOYFULLY) By heaven, Stephen, I appreciate that. And I’ll tell you that no man, woman or child who has a stake in this country is going to lose by it – while I live anyhow.

On the strength of that happy development, the scene transitioned back to the modern train and the conversation between the Old Timer and the pessimistic fellow traveler.

PIONEER:            (CHUCKLE)  So you see, stranger, that was what Jim Hill, and the men who worked with him, thought of our future. I reckon they weren’t far wrong.

MAN:                    Hu-m-m! Sounds so, don’t it? How come we have hard times then? Hey?

PIONEER:            Shucks, man! This country is like a healthy boy. He may have a touch of stomach ache from too many green apples once in a while, but he’s not a chronic invalid on that account. Not by a long chalk!

MAN:                    (DUBIOUSLY)  Still – there are lots of people selling.

PIONEER:            Then, sonny – you buy! Never forget that nine-tenths of the fortunes that have been made in this country have been made by betting on its future – and not against it!

MAN:                    Old Timer, if that’s the way you feel, why aren’t you rich now?

PIONEER:            (CHUCKLE)  Why, I am rich – in everything that’s worthwhile to me. I’m rich in my love of this great Northwestern Empire that Jim Hill opened up to me – and all the world. There’s not a day that I’m not glad because of it. That’s all I want. But I’ve got more. I’ve prospered with this country too!

MAN:                    Well, burn my dinner if I don’t believe you’re right! I’m going to hang on to everything I’ve got and buy more. This country looks good to me.

PIONEER:            Well, scatter my chipmunks, if I wasn’t sure that was the way you really felt about it! Good for you!

The orchestra came up again and then faded for the close, and a conversation among Ted Pearson, Lucille Husting, and the Old Timer. It what appears to have become standard for the closing of the springtime broadcasts, the subject of the Old Timer’s Tour of Glacier Park was addressed once more. Throughout the on-air conversation, the event was referred to in the plural – the Old Timer’s “vacation trips” to Glacier Park. In reality, and even though there was early discussion of conducting multiple trips, in the end there was only a single tour of Glacier Park hosted by Harvey Hays, the Old Timer.

At one point in the closing confab, announcer Ted Pearson asked the Old Timer how Glacier National Park got its name, wondering (as most folks do) if it was because of all the glaciers found there. That’s a common misperception, but an understandable one. The Old Timer went off on a geology lecture, not far different than what a modern-day National Park Service ranger might convey at a summertime campfire talk. As a matter of fact, here’s the way this issue is explained (in brief) on the NPS’s own web site [https://www.nps.gov/glac/learn/nature/glaciers.htm]:

Glacier National Park is not named so much for its small glaciers, but for the colossal work of colossal glaciers in the past. Ten thousand years ago, the topography of Glacier looked much the same as it does today. Before that, enough ice covered the Northern Hemisphere to lower sea levels 300 feet. In places near the park, ice was a mile deep.

The trio wrapped up their conversation about Glacier National Park when the Old Timer asked Ted how much time remained in the broadcast.

ANNOUNCER:    Let’s see – by golly . . . only one minute. We’ll have to go on. But say, Old Timer, there’s one thing I want to ask you about your vacation trip.

                              Listen . . .

                              (ABOUT TWO SECONDS OF DEAD AIR)

PIONEER:            [EXTENDED, BEMUSED CHUCKLING] Well, you bet, Ted! Sure – we’ll be in Canada part of the time, at Prince of Wales Hotel, on Waterton Lake, just the other side of the border.

                              (ORCHESTRA UP. FADE FOR ANNOUNCEMENTS)

So there you have it. My suspicions have been correct, all along. The Old Timer’s Tour of Glacier National Park made a deliberate side-trip across the international border – on the 4th of July – to ensure the participants would find themselves in a location where they could imbibe, legally, to their hearts’ content. I hope, through all the potentially unbridled carousing, Harvey Hays and Marc Williams maintained the appropriate degree of decorum, considering they were de facto representatives of the Great Northern Railway.

 
Lobby of the Prince of Wales Hotel
Photo by T.J. Hileman, from vintage lantern slide
Bill Lundgren collection

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

 
 

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