Tuesday, February 10, 2015

300210 - Butte


For starters, here is the majority of the press release put out for this date’s broadcast of Empire Builders:

The city under the richest hill on earth is the locale of a melodrama which Empire Builders will broadcast Monday night. The Old Timer, played by Harvey Hays, takes the listeners a half mile underground with him, into the copper mines underlying Butte, Mont.

The rescue that is effected when a crazed employee seizes control of the hoisting apparatus on the surface and attempts to run the elevator cage at its mile-a-minute pace up over the hundred-foot frame at the top of the shaft, is said to be the most difficult bit of radio melodrama ever attempted. The heroine whose quick wit saves the situation, is played by Miss Virginia Gardiner.

Musical effects are by Andy Sannella and his orchestra, while the sound effects were developed by Harry Edison, sound-effect technician.

The story was written by W. O. Cooper, a Chicago writer, who made a special trip to the Butte mines to gather material for the story and to assure the authentic background which marks all Empire Builders productions.

Bob MacGimsey, three-part harmony whistler, also will be heard on the same program.

Wyllis O. Cooper, circa 1930. GN Goat magazine, April, 1930. Author's collection

Wyllis O. Cooper (1899-1955) was a prodigious author of many radio scripts in the heyday of commercial radio. His preferred genre seems to have been stories of mystery and suspense – creepy, sometimes spine-chilling material. Among other projects, he wrote for the popular series “Lights Out” and “Quiet, Please.” Before his work evolved into that arena, however, Cooper hired on with the McJunkin Advertising Company of Chicago – which had as a major client the Great Northern Railway. Cooper became involved in writing scripts used on Empire Builders. He is credited with writing the story for the Empire Builders program of November 11, 1929, and also for contributing to the "Glacier Park Winter" broadcast of November 25, 1929. On the night of February 10, 1930, Empire Builders aired another story that was authored by Cooper, simply entitled “Butte.” It did not evoke quite the same macabre atmosphere of much of his later work, but you can see elements of that style at play. And more so than nearly any previous episode of Empire Builders, this presentation left behind the relatively easy-going, mild nature of most of the series’ earlier offerings.

Cooper traveled to Butte in January of 1930 to research and secure background material to write the “Butte” broadcast story. Originally set to air on January 20th, the program was pushed back to February 10th. This was due to the delay of Major Royce’s Arctic Patrol, as described in my last blog entry.

This program opened with the announcer highlighting the appearance again of Bob MacGimsey.

ANNOUNCER:

You are listening to Empire Builders, a presentation by the Great Northern Railway. You will next hear Bob MacGimsey harmony whistler. Mr. MacGimsey uses neither mechanical devices, nor his fingers. He simply stands before the microphone and whistles, just as anyone else would, except that MacGimsey produces two and three-part harmony. Mr. MacGimsey is accompanied by Andy Sannella’s orchestra.

 
A doctor inspects the throat of Bob MacGimsey - nothing unusual is discovered. GN Press Release. Author's collection
After the opening announcement and brief musical interlude, the program opened with a scene onboard the Empire Builder, westbound out of Havre. The Old Timer was just settling in to breakfast in the dining car …

PIONEER:      Mornin’, waiter. Thanks. B’lieve I’ll spread myself this mornin’. Kind o’ hungry. Lemme see – reckon I’ll take this number nine club breakfast, with – ah with oatmeal, ‘n’ scrambled eggs ‘n’ bacon, hot muffins, an’ some coffee. Better bring the coffee first, though. This here demi-tasse you brought for a starter just whetted my appetite for a big cup.

I have quite a number of Great Northern Railway memorabilia items in my collection, but I’m short on dining car menus from the early 1930s. I’d like to take a look at a few and see if any offer breakfast selections matching the Old Timer’s choice in the radio script. My hunch is that there really was such an option on the menu. Reading that passage of the script, I envy the Old Timer. I enjoy breakfast on Amtrak’s Empire Builder dining cars, but to have a meal like the Old Timer did, onboard the Great Northern’s Empire Builder… that must have been something special. Just after the Old Timer ordered breakfast, an old acquaintance of his named Joe entered the dining car.

PIONEER:      Hello there, Joe! C’mon and set down here with me. Haven’t seen you in a long time! Just come up from Butte?

1st MAN:         Well hello there, Old Timer! No, I’ve been over in Great Falls on business. Going on out to Seattle. I came up from the Falls last night on number 224, and stayed at Havre overnight, so I could catch the Empire Builder this morning…

Okay – fact check time. I may not have Great Northern dining car menus from 1930, but I sure do have a lot of the GN public timetables from that era. The Great Northern Railway did indeed have a daily Train 224 – it was a local service that ran between Great Falls and Havre (Train 223, also a daily train, ran the opposite direction, from Havre to Great Falls). The Old Timer’s pal Joe would have caught the 5:30pm departure out of Great Falls, and would have arrived in Havre at 9:30 that night. The next morning, the westbound Empire Builder (Train 1) was scheduled to pull into the depot at 7:00am, departing 15 minutes later. The radio story works out perfectly.

It turns out Joe was traveling with a friend of his named George. The two of them joined the Old Timer at his table for breakfast. An interesting exchange occurred as they made introductions:

1st MAN:         Shake hands with my friend, George Brown, from Dallas, Texas.

2nd MAN:        How do you do, sir? What was the name?

PIONEER:      Pleased to meet you, Mr. Brown. Why, most everybody out here calls me the Old Timer. (CHUCKLE) I’ve been round this country since ‘way back when. Set down.

That’s it, pal. No offense, but all you’re getting is “Old Timer.” His real name is just going to remain a mystery.

Newspaper illustration of Harvey Hays from April, 1930. Brooklyn Daily Eagle

After Joe and George placed their orders for breakfast, the men began to chit-chat. The Old Timer asked Joe what was new down Butte way, where Joe was from.

1st MAN:         Not much, Old Timer. I’ve been away for a week. Oh, yes, you knew Charley and Alice Cavanagh, didn’t you?

PIONEER:      Sure do. Knew ‘em before they was married, too.

1st MAN:         Oh, is that so? Well, they just moved into a beautiful new home out on Broadway, down there in Butte. Alice fell heir to quite a fortune, I understand, an’ they bought a new home. Wonderful place, too!

PIONEER:      Well, I don’t know’s I ought to tell this, but there’s an inside story to Alice’s inheritance …

1st MAN:        Inside story! What do you mean? Didn’t some uncle o’ hers die and leave her a lot o’ money?

PIONEER:      (CHUCKLE)  No, indeedy! That money –

Their breakfasts arrived, but as they began to eat, the Old Timer explained how it came to be that the Anaconda Copper Mining Company (ACM) was actually behind Alice’s big windfall. He admitted Alice might not be too happy knowing that he was sharing her story, but he plunged in anyway.

Alice Monahan and Charley Cavanagh were both from Butte, and knew each other growing up. Charley went to work in mining, but relocated to New York. ACM hired Charley to return to Butte to do some studies of their mining operations. In the meantime, another fellow from Butte, Dan Clegg, took a fancy to Alice. Alice, however, most decidedly did not fancy Clegg, who among other bad traits was a heavy drinker.

One day Charley was tasked with going down to the 2,800 foot level of the Mountain Consolidated Mine, and he asked the Old Timer to come along down with him. The Old Timer made no bones about how uneasy he was with the idea, but Charley cajoled him into it. Alice was with them top-side, and she tried to ease the Old Timer’s fears too.

ALICE:           You won’t mind it a bit, Old Timer. It’s just like riding in an elevator. Why, I’ve been underground dozens of times, I just love it.

PIONEER:      (Dubiously) Well, I d’know, Alice, I’m not so crazy about it. I’d rather stay on top o’ the ground till they put me under it!

CHARLEY:    Oh, come on, Old Timer! It’s perfectly safe – look at the fifteen thousand men that work underground here every day!

PIONEER:      Yeah, but I’m no miner, Charley. Say, is that tall thing over there where you go down the shaft? Looks like an oil-well derrick! How high is it?

ALICE:           Oh, I think Dad told me once. One hundred and twenty feet high, I think he said. It’s right above the shaft and that’s a half mile deep. That big wheel at the top is what the cable runs over. See, there’s the cable running from the top of it over here to the engine house … Look at that wheel spin. Way down below there’s the cage for the men and bins for the ore. They’re coming up now, and coming fast. They call that frame the gallows-frame.

The Old Timer, typically quite calm, even-keeled, and self-assured, displayed an uncharacteristically timid reaction.

PIONEER:      Gallows-frame. (Chuckles nervously) It’d be a gallows all right if the engineer didn’t shut off the juice and you happened to take a mile-a-minute ride up there over that wheel. No thanks, not for me.

Alice and Charley talked the Old Timer through his misgivings and tried to convince him of the safety of the mine elevator. Just then, Clegg showed up – drunk and belligerent. Clegg had already been fired by the mining company for his drinking. Charley tried to scold him into leaving. Failing that, Charley had to sock ol’ Clegg upside the head to chase him off.

PIONEER:      My, that was a wallop you gave him, Charley! Had it comin’, though.

ALICE:           Yes, it’s a shame about Dan. He’s really smart, you know. He invented a lot of the safety devices around the Anaconda properties, but he drinks, and he’s so – so wild!

PIONEER:      Speakin’ of safety devices, Charley – what’s to prevent the man in the engine house here from forgettin’ to turn the power off when he’s pullin’ th’ cage up, an’ haulin’ it right up over the top o’ that – what do you call gallows frame?

CHARLEY:    Why, that’d be impossible, even if he tried to. There are more’n half a dozen separate safeties there that would automatically stop the cage. Couldn’t be done.

A miner named MacMahon showed up and joined Charley and the Old Timer as they began to descend into the mine. Charley went on to explain to the Old Timer why he just shouldn’t be worried about the mine elevator being dangerous. Charley said:

                        Anaconda has one of the finest safety records of any industrial organization in the world. Why, take the hoisting arrangements, for instance. There are so many interlocking safeties on every hoist – it’s absolutely impossible to have an accident. Unless someone deliberately disconnects each separate switch – and he’d have to be an engineer to do that!

When the three men had descended into the mine a good distance, MacMahon pointed out a deposit of ore that he wanted to show Charley.

CHARLEY:    Yep. Good clean copper glance – chalcocite. Guess I’ll knock off a couple of chunks. (SOUND OF HAMMER ON ROCK)

PIONEER:      (chuckles) Better be sparin’ of that rock, Charley. Aren’t you afraid you’ll run out someday.

CHARLEY:    Sure, someday, perhaps – a hundred years from now – or more. This hill you’re in, Old Timer, has given the world four and a half billion dollars in mineral wealth in fifty years.

It turns out Charley’s prophecy about the ore running out in a hundred years didn’t quite play out. The Anaconda mine was effectively shut down in 1947. By the mid-50’s, open-pit mining began and the massive Berkeley Pit was dug. This operation, too, has been abandoned, leaving behind one of the nation's largest Superfund sites. But that’s another story. Back to this one.

MACMAHON:           Say, Charley, we’d better be startin’ back pretty soon, ‘f you have to get over to the precipitation tanks ‘fore four o’clock.

PIONEER:                  Over to the what?

CHARLEY:                The precipitation tanks. You know, the company runs the blue “copper water” – copper sulphate solution, it is – over the tanks full of tin cans and scrap iron. There isn’t a tin can in Butte – the Anaconda buys ‘em all. And the copper water running over the cans deposits metallic copper in place of the other metals.

PIONEER:                  Come on’   You’re stringin’ me!

MACMAHON:           No he’s not, Old Timer. Years ago, one of the miners had a pile of tin cans in his back yard, where the waste water from one of the mines ran through it. He discovered, one morning, that the tin cans had turned to pure cement copper. He sold the idea to the company, an’ today we recover millions of pounds of copper that way!

PIONEER:                  Well, dog my cats! I s’pose you’ll be tellin’ me that you wash copper out o’ the miners’ clothes next!

MACMAHON:           There’s something in that, too. Our flotation process was discovered by a miner’s wife, who was washing her husband’s overalls. Little particles of metallic copper rose to the top of the soapsuds, and nowadays the flotation process we derived from that thing is quite a factor in the recovery of copper.

If you hadn’t noticed by now, it’s clear that Wyllis Cooper truly did accomplish some significant research in preparing this story. Up to this point the story contains knowledgeable detail about the layout of the Anaconda mine, the gallows frame hoisting system, and the presence of copper ore called chalcocite. The explanation of copper precipitation is another remarkable detail.

The men down in the mine shaft decided they were ready to come topside, and they rang a bell system to alert the hoist engineer at the surface to bring them up. Alice heard the signal and understood what it meant, but she became alarmed when the hoist engineer failed to respond. She went to investigate, and found a drunken Dan Clegg at the controls. He had knocked the hoist engineer cold, and he launched into a tirade of half-crazed threats.

CLEGG:          I’ll tell y’. I’ve knocked out ‘at dumb eng’neer. ‘N’en I’m gonna hois’ y’r boy friend. I’ll hois’ ‘m! I’ll hois’ ‘m! I’ll hois’ ‘m right over top o’ gallows fram ‘n’ smear ‘m all over whole state o’ Montana! HAHAHAHAHAHA!

ALICE:           Dan! You wouldn’t! You couldn’t do that if you wanted to. The safety devices’ll work, and stop the hoist. Come on now, and help me with Emmett!

CLEGG:          Safe’y d’vices! Ha ha ha! Y’ li’l fool, I’m engineer! I used be safe’y eng’neer here! I spent whole hour disc’nectin’ safe’ ies. I know how. I w’s safe’y engineer ‘fore y’ ol’ man fired me – th’ ol’ rat! I’ll kill him too!  (PAUSE)  See! There – wire’s bus’ed  – ‘n’ there, ‘n’ there, ‘n’ there, ‘n’ there, ‘n’ there!

Alice’s father, Timmy Monahan, retired from ACM after many years working there. It was Monahan who had fired Clegg for his drunkenness on the job. On this day, he had come by the mine to see his friend the Old Timer, and to chat with other old friends. He was on hand when Clegg was discovered, and he tried to intervene.

MONAHAN:  Here, here, what’s going on? Ye’re up to no good, Dan Clegg! Come down out o’ that control stand!

CLEGG:          I’ll show y’ wha’s goin’ on, y’ ol’ fool! How y’ like ‘at?

Clegg seemed to enjoy cracking people over the head. He did not spare Monahan. He knocked him cold. Now it was up to brave Alice to try to put a stop to the drunken madman. Clegg raved on about what he was doing.

CLEGG:          (off) Alice! Hey, Al’ce! Watch ‘e dial! Here comes yer sweetie, ‘n’ ‘at ol’ fool with ‘m, ‘n’ Bill MacMahon!

    (ONE BELL WHIR OF MOTORS AND HOIST UP)

28 – 27 – 26 – 25 – 24 – up over the top y’ go, y’ fools! Y’ would smack me! I tol’ y’ I’d git y’! (SOUND OF HOIST RISES)  19 – 18 – 17 – 16 – C’m on, d’ ye hear me? Take y’r las’ ride – right up and over top! “OVER THE TOP” – ain’t that good. Ha, ha, ha!

About this time Timmy Monahan slowly came to, and Alice pleaded with him for advice on how to stop Clegg.

MONAHAN:  Alice! Alice! What’s happened? What hit me? Ohh!

ALICE:           (whispers, wildly) Father, Dan Clegg has disconnected all the safety switches, and he’s hauling Charley and the rest up, and he’s going to run the cage up over the top of the gallows-frame, and kill them all! Oh, what shall I do? Father! Can’t you say something?

      (SOUND OF HOIST RISES LOUDER AND FASTER)

CLEGG:          (off) 10 – 9 – 8

MONAHAN:  (weakly) The switchboard! Quick! Grab that crowbar there. Throw it into the switch board – right through the glass – it will short-circuit the switches. Don’t hold on to it. Throw it – or you’ll be killed.

Alice flung the crowbar and shorted out the switch board, and the whole contraption came to a sudden halt. Clegg was electrocuted. Meanwhile, down in the cold, silent blackness of the elevator shaft . . .

PIONEER:                  Charley! What’s wrong? Are you here?

CHARLEY:                Right here, Old Timer! You all right? You, Bill?

PIONEER:                  All right, but scared to death. What’re we stopped for?

MACMAHON:           Something’s happened up on the surface. Don’t be scared, though – the safety’ll hold us – the cage can’t drop.

PIONEER:                  Well, I wish this thing’d stop bouncin’ up an’ down!

MACMAHON:           Oh, that’s all right! The cage always does that when it stops. The slack in the cable, you know.

Judging by the dim light up above, the men estimated they were still about a hundred feet from the surface.
Back to the men eating breakfast in the dining car of the Empire Builder ... Joe and George quizzed the Old Timer about how things played out from there. Joe commented about how Clegg’s death had seemed such a mystery to everyone.

PIONEER:      No, we all promised to say nothing about the whole affair; but those people down at the Anaconda didn’t forget. Why, look what could o’ happened. Outside o’ ruinin’ my health (CHUCKLE) Dan’d ‘a’ busted up half a million dollars’ worth o’ machinery, an’ killed these other two guys too. So, as old Tim Monahan said, Alice was a hero – an’ when she an’ Charley got married, the Anaconda gave ‘em ten thousand dollars f’r a weddin’ present. And that’s the story o’ Alice’s inheritance and probably explains that new house.

A Great Northern dining car interior, circa 1935.
The Old Timer said farewell to Joe and his friend George. He passed the Steward as he got up from the table.

STEWARD:    I hope you enjoyed your breakfast, sir.

PIONEER:      I sure did, steward. (Chuckles)  You know, I sort of suspect that’s why everybody gets up mornings on these Great Northern trains – they don’t want to miss those breakfasts.

With a short musical bridge, the announcer wrapped up the show.

ANNOUNCER:

And so we leave the Old Timer, going back to join a group of kindred spirits in the sun room of the Empire Builder. There’s a man from New York, savoring a morning cigar over the pages of the Wall Street Journal. Alongside him sits a rancher from Billings, deep in the morning’s Great Falls Tribune. A famous actress skims over the pages of the Illustrated London News between glances out of the windows. Two engineers, returning to the Orient, compare notes on Chinese travel. One looks up and grins. “Nothing like this on the South Manchurian railway south of Harbin,” he comments. His comrade laughingly nods an assent. Such is the kind of travel comfort found on the Great Northern’s trains between Chicago and the Pacific coast – the new Empire Builder and the famous Oriental Limited.

Because of the rescheduling of this episode of Empire Builders (as mentioned near the outset of this blog entry), some of the early information about this program was put out in the January issue of the Great Northern Railway’s Goat magazine. In it, the following description of the Butte story was provided: “The third program of the month will tell of Butte, Montana, a mile high and a mile deep, whose immense copper mines total many miles of underground workings.”

This phrase about Butte being “a mile high and a mile deep” is evidently a moniker the community and its mining activity earned many years earlier. What gets a little more interesting about this broadcast of the Empire Builders, besides its being one of the earliest radio plays of W.O. Cooper’s long career, is that Cooper wrote a story for the radio series “Quiet, Please” which he titled “A Mile High and a Mile Deep.” That story was much more of a spine-tingling thriller than this Empire Builders story, but it too used the copper mines of Butte as its milieu. The Quiet, Please broadcast occurred on two consecutive nights in August of 1947.

Wyllis O. Cooper and Betty Reynolds White (no, not THAT Betty White) inspecting the railroad sound contraption used in the final season of Empire Builders, circa December, 1930. Author's collection
Where the coincidence meter really starts to redline is when it is discovered that Cooper’s Quiet, Please story – and an Empire Builders story from the final months of its run, in 1931 – were just performed on Montana Public Radio two nights prior to this blog entry. It’s a fact. On February 8, 2015 – just two nights ago as I’m writing this – MTPR’s Radio Theater aired its recorded reenactments of those two radio plays. That’s an amazing coincidence. MTPR brought together an array of talented Montana radio veterans and recorded their performances, which were then broadcast on the 8th. Did you miss it? No worries! You can follow this link and play their podcast!


Very cool.


Tuesday, February 3, 2015

300203 - Topic: Major Ralph Royce and the Arctic Patrol



Of all the 104 broadcasts associated with the Empire Builders radio series, only a very small number of them were something other than dramatic sketches. The first broadcast, on January 12, 1929, celebrated the opening of the new Cascade Tunnel. One program was devoted to a performance of the Portland Symphony Orchestra, and another trumpeted the inauguration of the Great Northern Railway’s deluxe new Empire Builder train service.

On the night of February 3, 1930, the Empire Builders once again performed a dramatic sketch, but with a twist: two of the people appearing in the program were performing as themselves, rather than as fictional characters. Not only that, but the whole topic of the night’s presentation was based on a real-life event that had just occurred within the preceding weeks. This show was based on fresh news, which must have created certain challenges when composing the continuity for the program. The Great Northern’s Harold Sims teamed with NBC’s Edward Hale Bierstadt to work up the plot of the program, and then Bierstadt wrote the continuity.

The two individuals who played themselves on this broadcast were Major Ralph Royce and Staff Sergeant Kennard D. Wilson of the United States Army Air Corps. Royce was the commander of the Air Corps’ 1st Pursuit Group, and Wilson was a radio expert assigned to the mission.

Collectible postal cover mailed out from Selfridge Field at the conclusion of the Arctic Patrol mission; signed by Major Royce.
Before addressing the content of the night’s broadcast of Empire Builders, I’d like to provide a little background on the real-life event that inspired the dramatization. Commercial radio and aviation were effectively contemporary developments of technology. They both saw their formative years very early in the 20th century, and both were still proving themselves by the late 1920s. The Army Air Corps was one of the various iterations in the evolution of the U.S. military’s aviation operations, probably explained most simply by referencing the following table:

Aviation Section, Signal Corps                      July 18, 1914 – May 20, 1918

Division of Military Aeronautics                  May 20, 1918 – May 24, 1918

Air Service, United States Army                   May 24, 1918 – July 2, 1926

United States Army Air Corps                     July 2, 1926 – June 20, 1941

United States Army Air Forces                      June 20, 1941 – September 18, 1947

United States Air Force                                  September 18, 1947–present

In the fall of 1929, the U.S. Army Air Corps decided to conduct a training exercise to determine the ability of its fliers and airplanes to conduct military operations in frigid winter conditions. The mission consisted of squadrons from the 1st Pursuit Group, based at Selfridge Field, Mount Clemens, MI (near Detroit). This group was under the command of Major Ralph Royce.

The video clip below is a low-resolution preview of a video file available from the commercial site called CriticalPast. This is a link to their page with information on this stock video clip: http://www.criticalpast.com/video/65675051737_Curtis-P-1-airplanes_snow_skis_cold-weather-testing_1st-Pursuit-Group

Turn on your volume - this video has narration with it! The run time is 1:21.
 

The plan for the Arctic Patrol was to fly three squadrons from Selfridge Field to Spokane, Washington, with more than half of the route following in the vicinity of the mainline of the Great Northern Railway. I don’t know if keeping the aircraft in the vicinity of the GN was deliberate. I have no concrete information about it one way or the other. All the aircraft were fitted with skis, and therefore needed snowy or icy surfaces to land on and take off from. Therefore, the planned route had to remain in territory where January weather could be relied upon to remain below freezing, there had to be ample landing areas along the way (including frozen lakes), and the squadrons had to remain within a reasonable distance of populated areas with access to ground transportation such as a railroad (in the event of mechanical issues or problems with communications). Following the GN mainline (or at least some railroad mainline) begins to look deliberate.

Curtiss P-1C Hawk pursuit airplane of the U.S. Army Air Corps.
National Museum of the U.S. Air Force collection

The Arctic Patrol consisted of the following aircraft, all fitted with skis:

·       18 Curtiss P-1C open cockpit one-seater pursuit biplanes

·       3 cargo aircraft (including a Douglas C-1 and two Ford Tri-motor C-9s)

·       1 Douglas O-2K observation aircraft (open cockpit 2-seater biplane)

One other Curtiss P-1C, equipped with wheels instead of skis, went out ahead of the Arctic Patrol as an advance scout. Attempting to follow the same route as that planned for the Arctic Patrol, this plane was piloted by Lieut. Walter E. Richards and went out weeks ahead of the other planes, in December. Richards made it as far west as Kalispell, Montana, but while attempting to land on the plowed portion of the runway his aircraft veered off into the snow and flipped on its back. The plane had to be shipped back for major repairs, and Richards (apparently not badly injured, if at all) returned from Kalispell on a Great Northern train.


Ford C-9 at Wausau, WI, on January 16, 1930.
National Museum of the U.S. Air Force collection
The following tables show the original itinerary of the Arctic Patrol.



Outbound Leg

Date

Segment of trip

Miles to

be flown

Nature

of stop

8 January

Selfridge Field (MI) to St. Ignace (MI)

250

Noon stop

St. Ignace (MI) to Duluth (MN) via Hancock (MI)

400

Overnight

9 January

Duluth (MN) to Grand Forks (ND)

250

Noon stop

Grand Forks (ND) to Minot (ND)

200

Overnight

10 January

Minot (ND) to Glasgow (MT)

250

Noon stop

Glasgow (MT) to Great Falls (MT), via Havre (MT)

250

Overnight

11 January

Great Falls (MT) to Kalispell (MT)

200

Noon stop

Kalispell (MT) to Spokane (WA)

200

Overnight
 




Return Leg

Date

Segment of trip

Miles to

be flown

Nature

of stop

12 January

Remain in Spokane (Newman Lake, WA)

0

Noon stop

Overnight

13 January

Spokane (WA) to Helena (MT), via Missoula (MT)

275

Noon stop

Helena (MT) to Miles City (MT)

200

Overnight

14 January

Miles City (MT) to Bismarck (ND)

230

Noon stop

Bismarck (ND) to Fargo (ND)

200

Overnight

15 January

Fargo (ND) to Minneapolis (MN)

230

Noon stop

Minneapolis (MN) to Wausau (MI)

175

Overnight

16 January

Wausau (MI) to Escanaba (WI)

150

Noon stop

Escanaba (WI) to Selfridge Field

350

 

Although temperatures along the planned route were already at or below freezing by the date of the planned departure, those temperatures plummeted even further once the 22 aircraft of the Arctic Patrol began to launch from Selfridge Field. Almost immediately, some of the aircraft began to experience various mechanical problems, and before long many of the airplanes were strung out along a significant distance from each other.

Many aspects of extreme winter flight were tested and prepared for. Most of the aircraft were supplied with a relatively new product – Prestone® antifreeze. In large part to emulate actual harsh conditions for such a mission, the aircraft in the Arctic Patrol flight were not hangered at night. Air mail service aircraft were in use in this territory, but they were typically hangered at night and were therefore much easier to start in the morning. The Arctic Patrol aircraft, despite the promising results of the Prestone® ethyl glycol antifreeze, were parked in the open air at night and were very challenging to get into flying condition. One solution that was hit upon – and which became one of the more significant findings of the mission – was that fire pots used by plumbers to melt the solder for repairing copper pipes (modified with sections of stovepipe) could serve as highly effective heaters to warm up the aircraft engines.

Major Ralph Royce, press photo from 1930. Author's collection

The story of Major Ralph Royce and the winter mission of the Army Air Corps’ 1st Pursuit Group is an interesting read. You can find a very thorough and well-researched treatise on the subject, written by David K. Vaughn, in the Winter 2014 issue of Air Power History.  [Note: this link will download a 4MB PDF: http://afhistoricalfoundation.org/members/APH_archive_files/Winter_2014_Entire_Issue.pdf]

A contemporary write-up about the Arctic Patrol’s trials and tribulations summed up the general assessment of their success:

The question as to whether the Pursuiters gained ample experience in flying and handling their planes under severe weather conditions can be very emphatically answered in the affirmative. They had many hard tussles with Old King Boreas with his sub-zero blasts. There were a few mishaps [but] … happily, there were no serious accidents, and the men who participated in the flight, after they have thawed out, will no doubt look back on their long jaunt through the frigid Northwest as the experience of a lifetime. 
[Source:  “The Arctic Patrol Flight of the First Pursuit Group,” Air Corps News Letter, Volume XIV, Number 6 (February 6, 1930)]

To me, one of the interesting details of all this is that Major Royce returned to Selfridge Field on January 29, and Staff Sergeant Kennard Wilson returned on January 30. Both of them barely had time for a hot shower and a quick meal before being whisked off to New York, where they arrived on Sunday, February 2nd – just the day before going on the air with the Empire Builders. Granted, their involvement in the broadcast was not too demanding, but they still needed to be shown around and given an opportunity to run through the performance at least once or twice.

The Empire Builders’ story of Major Royce and the Arctic Patrol opened with the customary musical interlude. Both Robert MacGimsey and Andy Sannella were scheduled to be featured on the program. The announcer (most likely John S. Young) then provided the following introduction:

You are listening to Empire Builders, a presentation of the Great Northern Railway. This evening’s program is a fictional newspaper story, but, like actual newspaper stories, it deals with real news. Very recently, the United States Army Air Corps sent a squadron of 20 air-planes on a test flight of 3500 miles from Mt. Clemens, Michigan, to Spokane, Washington, and return. Tonight’s program, although fictional in character, will include Major Ralph Royce, commanding officer of the flight, and Sergeant Kennard D. Wilson, both of whom will appear in their proper characters, in person.

Clearly it was novel for Empire Builders to incorporate a recent news event into their Monday night broadcast, and especially so for the event’s protagonists to participate directly in the telling of the story on air.

The dramatization opened with a scene at the Great Falls (Montana) Tribune newsroom. The news editor, Mr. Dye, was updated on the progress of the Arctic Patrol, which he learned was due in Minot that evening and expected to reach Great Falls the next day. The next few minutes of dialogue primarily established the romantic relationship between Jane, a reporter of the paper, and Jim, the managing editor. Jane grumped about not getting involved in the kind of reporting that she had a hankering for.

JANE:             … Mrs. Whosit Jones spent Thursday visiting her sister in Helena. Mr. and Mrs. Patrick H. O’Connor are the proud parents of an eight pound baby boy. Oh, gosh, this isn’t what I went into newspaper work for.

The response to this from her editor (and boyfriend) Jim included a comment that today we would likely bristle at for its chauvinistic tone:

JIM:                Well, I don’t blame you … just what comes of being a girl – and I’m glad you are. Say, Jane, you know we’re eating together this noon.

Before the two traipsed off to lunch together, Mr. Dye received a telegram about the Air Corps fliers. It said an Associated Press reporter travelling with the Arctic Patrol and covering their progress had taken ill. A replacement was needed, and Dye assigned Jim to take his spot.

DYE:               (CALLS)  Hey, Carey, just a minute … See here, Carey, the Associated Press wire that their correspondent with the army fliers was taken ill at Grand Forks. Want us to send someone to join up with the squadron at Minot. You’re it. The fliers will be at Minot tonight, and you’ve just got time to catch the train to meet ‘em there tomorrow morning.

The news editor went on to explain to Jim his expectations for carrying out the assignment.

DYE:               Now listen. At Minot the fliers are going to test their radio communication between the air and the ground by short wave. You’ll want to cover that. After that they’ll hop for Great Falls – here – with a stop at Havre. You’re to fly with ‘em to Havre – swell storm, and looks like a real test for them. Then you’re to leave ‘em at Havre and file your story at the telegraph office there. I’ll try to get the Great Northern to give us one of their railway wires from Havre right into this office. I’ll have a man cover the landing here. You come back by train. Got that?

This is another moment in the radio drama that at least suggests some reflection of reality – one of the guests of the show, Staff Sergeant Wilson, was assigned to the Arctic Patrol for the express purpose of establishing and operating a shortwave radio transmission and receiving station onboard one of the Ford C-9 aircraft. Arrangements were made in advance of the mission to enlist the assistance of an organization called the American Radio Relay League. The ARRL still exists (with over 160,000 members), and has been around since it was formed in 1914.


Staff Sergeant Kennard D. Wilson with radio equipment onboard the Ford Tri-motor C-9 aircraft.
National Museum of the U.S. Air Force collection
So… back to our radio play. Jim now has an assignment to race to the railroad depot to catch the 5:30pm Great Northern train to Havre, arriving at 9:30pm. From Havre, a connection with the Empire Builder at about 10pm would take him eastbound and arrive Minot, North Dakota, twelve hours later.

Racing out of the newsroom to catch the train, Jim ran into his gal Jane, and he asked her to ride to the depot with him. They caught a taxi and told the driver to step on it. The accommodating cabbie went flying down the streets of Great Falls on the slippery, icy pavement, and succeeded in smashing into another car. The cabbie was knocked cold, and Jim got banged up, but Jane was injured only slightly. This naturally set up an arrangement of necessity – it was now Jane’s assignment to complete in Jim’s stead. It was her big chance to prove her worth to Dye, the news editor (even if she was “only a girl”).

Okay - I cheated a little here. This photo does show sound effects men of the Empire Builders radio series, but it was taken in December of 1930 after the broadcast location shifted from NYC to Chicago. But here's the verbatim sound effects direction from the continuity for this night's broadcast: 
(THE TAXI SMASHES INTO ANOTHER CAR. THE CRASH. THE SOUND OF BROKEN GLASS AND ALL THE REST OF IT)       Author's collection.
Still bleeding a little from her dramatic ordeal in the taxicab, Jane boarded the Great Northern train out of Great Falls just in the nick of time. If you’ve been reading any more than just a couple of these reviews of Empire Builders programs, I don’t have to tell you who she bumped into upon boarding the train.

It seems the Old Timer was in the Butte area looking over some property he had there. He was traveling with his sidekick, January the hound dog. The Old Timer conferred with the conductor about coming up to the baggage car in a bit to look in on January, and then he had a chat with Jane (when she returned from the ladies’ room after cleaning up a little).

The Old Timer asked Jane if she was traveling to Havre.

JANE:             Oh, yes, I’m catching the Empire Builder there for Minot.

PIONEER:      Goin’ on to Minot, are you? Maybe you live there?

JANE:             No, I live at Great Falls. I’m on the Great Falls Tribune, and I’m going to Minot to join the army fliers, and fly back with them from Minot to Havre.

PIONEER:      Well, dad burn it, not in weather like this? What do you think of that. Ain’t you scared?

JANE:             Not a bit. I’ve never flown, but I’ve always wanted to, and there can’t be anything safer than the army planes. And anyway, what could be sweeter? If anything goes wrong, I’ve read that all you have to do is to step out, count ten, pull a cord and float back to earth.

Jane then commented on how she was looking forward to getting a sleeping compartment on the Empire Builder at Havre, and then getting a good night’s rest enroute to Minot. The Old Timer confirmed they would arrive in Minot by about 10am. Once again, the fictional story of the radio show faithfully represented the actual schedule of real Great Northern trains.

The continuity next gave instructions for some transitional sound effects. It is intriguing to see what was called for:

(TRANSITIONAL MUSIC FADING OUT AND INTO BUZZ OF SHORT WAVE TELEGRAPH KEY. A MAN WHO KNOWS AND CAN SEND SHORT WAVE MUST BE EMPLOYED FOR THIS SCENE)

It would be interesting to know whether the short wave duties were taken by Sergeant Wilson. It’s hard to imagine anyone else being on hand who was better qualified.

This transition brought the listeners into a scene with girl-reporter Jane in a telegrapher’s office at the Minot airport. Jane asked the telegrapher to convey a message to Major Royce.

JANE:             Can you get them from here, from the flying field – on the short wave?

TELEG:          Yes, ma’am, I’m getting them perfectly clear. There’s only Major Royce and Sergeant Wilson up now, testing communications.

JANE:             Can you tell Major Royce I’m here – Jane Cody of the Great Falls Tribune, with instructions from the A. P. to fly with him from Minot to Havre?

TELEG:          Sure I can tell him. Just a minute.

Major Royce landed his plane and came inside to confer with Jane and Stevens (the telegrapher).

MAJOR:         Hello, Stevens. Is this Miss Cody?

JANE:             Yes, Major Royce, I’m Jane Cody. Is the squadron going to take off?

MAJOR:         I don’t know. That’s what I landed for – to find out. We can get off here all right, but west of Minot reports are dash bad. You know the object of this flight, don’t you, Miss Cody?

JANE:             Only in a very general way, I’m afraid.

Royce explained the Arctic Patrol’s mission concerning adverse weather operations, and also mentioned the role of Sergeant Wilson with regard to radio communications. Jane then got to the point of what her goals were.

JANE:             Of course the thing I’m most anxious to know about now is, are you going to take off for Havre and Great Falls, and am I going with you?

MAJOR:         That’s up to you – if you’ve got the nerve. That’s settled. But – as for taking off today … What’s the latest on the weather, Stevens?

TELEG:          Plenty, Major. From what’s been coming in the last few minutes, I take it that there’s a young blizzard on between here and Havre – heavy snow and a forty mile wind.

MAJOR:         That settles it. I wouldn’t send the squadron up in that.

Despite the fact Jane had never flown in an airplane, and despite the fact seriously adverse weather was forecast, Jane was determined to come back to Great Falls with the news story that she believed would launch her into much more fulfilling opportunities with the Tribune.

This is where the fictional radio story takes another extreme turn away from reality – although the listeners, with but very few exceptions, would not be the wiser. Although Major Royce prudently stated the squadron would not be sent up into the teeth of a blizzard, he bravely asserted that he would instead risk his own neck and go on with his own plane. And he would bravely take Sergeant Wilson with him and risk his neck. And he would bravely take girl-reporter Jane, too. Major Royce, in real life, flew one of the 18 Curtiss P-1C Hawks. They were open cockpit biplanes. They had the capacity to accommodate the pilot. Only the pilot. Not two people, and certainly not three people. And all the conversations they have while flying in the open cockpit! Oh well – it’s just a story, right?

Major Royce announced he intended to depart for Havre and Great Falls in about ten minutes. This gave Jane just enough time to rustle up some “flying togs” to change into.

The intrepid trio hopped into the Major’s airplane and took off for Havre. They soon found themselves flying right into the teeth of the approaching storm. Visibility dropped to near-zero; Royce could no longer make out the ground below him.

MAJOR:         I’m going to drop Sergeant, and see if we can pick up a landmark.

SERGEANT:  Standing by, sir.

                        (SOUND OF ALTITUDE CHANGE)

Other than exhibiting a decrease in the aircraft engine’s horsepower, I’m not sure how you recreate the sound of an altitude change. But just in case that was not effective, they resorted to dialog to get the point across:

SERGEANT:  Five hundred feet, sir.

MAJOR:         Can’t see a thing yet. We’ll have to drop lower.

SERGEANT:  One hundred feet, sir. There’s the railroad tracks.

Wow. Talk about flying by the seat of your pants. Any lower and they could just shout from the plane and ask a farmer for directions. But there were no farmers available, and they were still a little too high for that. Next best option?

MAJOR:         What’s that ahead of us?

SERGEANT:  That’s a train, sir.

JANE:             Oh, that must be the Oriental Limited! She’s almost due at Havre now.

SERGEANT:  Look at her plow through it, hitting right along. We can follow her into Havre.

There you go – the Great Northern Railway comes to the rescue yet again. [Okay – I have to call them out on this one. The GN’s Oriental Limited arrived Havre eastbound at 1:40 a.m., and westbound at 3:35 a.m. In the story they seem to be arriving Havre around midday.]  Major Royce determined that conditions were just too low to land at Havre (which is spectacularly unsettling – if it’s too low to land there, why push on into the same storm and hope to make it to Great Falls, over a hundred miles away?). They never should have tried to fly into such abysmal weather conditions in the first place, but at that point, get on the ground and live to fly another day! Well … it’s just a story after all, isn’t it? In any event, overflying Havre just wasn’t going to sit well with the reporter on deadline.

MAJOR:         That’s where we were going to land. I tell you, frankly, Miss Cody, that I’m not going to take a chance in this storm. Besides we couldn’t take off again. I’m going to follow the tracks through to Great Falls, and pass up Havre.

JANE:             But I can’t! I’ve got to file my story. There’s a wire set up for me at Havre! I’ve got to send my story in from there! Otherwise I can’t make my dead-line!

It seems that Jane was about as determined as a strong-headed young girl-reporter could be. Major Royce was just as determined not to land in Havre. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Particularly in fictional radio stories. [Hey kids – don’t try this at home!!]

JANE:             . . .  I’ve got to get off at Havre!

MAJOR:         I’m sorry, Miss Cody, but – you can’t.

JANE:             I must! …. I’ve got a parachute. I’ll jump!

MAJOR:         No you won’t!

SERGEANT:  We’re there now.

JANE:             This is my chance! It’ll make a better story anyhow.

MAJOR:         Don’t be a fool! Get back in here!

SERGEANT:  Hang on to that strut!

JANE:             I’m on the way!

Only one hundred feet off the ground. This is going to end badly. But hold the phone, they won’t let her jump so low to the ground…

MAJOR:         Wait! Wait till we bring the plane up. We’re too low for you to jump. (REGISTER ALTITUDE CHANGE)

SERGEANT:  My God, Major, if that girl doesn’t make it I’m going to be sick!

MAJOR:         If you’re any sicker than I am, you’ll have to take medicine for it! Holy Smokes, she’s got nerve!

SERGEANT:  This ought to be high enough.

MAJOR:         We’re seven hundred now.

SERGEANT:  (CALLS)  Count ten, and pull the rip cord! Jump, Miss Cody! Jump!

JANE:             (OFF)  Good luck!  …. Goodbye!

Jane made it safely to the ground, and the next thing you know, she’s banging on the door of the telegraph office at the Great Northern depot. The agent opens the door and lets her in . . .

JANE:             Listen – I’m Jane Cody of the Great Falls Tribune! I’ve just jumped from Major Royce’s plane on its way to Great Falls! Have you got a wire set up for me here? I’ve got to send in my story.

MAN:              Gee whiz, Miss Cody – you jumped?! … Yes, Ma’am, we’re all ready for you – got a typewriter here, and the wire is clear right through to the Tribune office.

JANE:             Good! Just a second till I warm my hands and I’ll be ready. I’ll give you the story as I write it, and you can put in on the wire page by page. That way we won’t lose any time.

As is usual with happy endings, Jane got her story in on time, and the editor was very pleased. Turns out her boyfriend’s arm was not broken as she feared, and it’s a safe assumption everyone lived happily ever after.

Here’s how the announcer closed the program:

ANNOUNCER:

            The Great Northern Railway desires to extend to the United States War Department, and especially to the Army Air Corps, its cordial thanks for their co-operation in presenting tonight’s Empire Builder program. The Great Northern further thanks Major Royce and Sergeant Wilson, who appeared in person on the program, and congratulates them on the skill and courage displayed in the recent test flight – a great portion of which was made over the routes of the Empire Builder and the Oriental Limited. Empire Builders, a presentation of the Great Northern Railway, comes to you from the New York Studios of the National Broadcasting Company.