301208 - The Marriage Tree

Recording status:  recorded; not located.

I’ve commented in previous posts about the radio script competition conducted by the Great Northern Railway. The contest was launched in the summer of 1930 and ran for about four months. This night’s story, “The Marriage Tree,” was based on a story submitted by a woman from Vancouver, Washington, by the name of Marie Ryan. She won the first place prize in the contest offered through radio station KGW in Portland, Oregon. The story of the marriage tree was a dramatization focused on the real-life story of one of the oldest apple trees in the Northwest – a tree believed to have been planted as early as 1826, and that is still living to this day. More on that later.

Writers of stories for Empire Builders consisted primarily of professional authors employed by either NBC or the McJunkin Advertising Agency. The most prolific of all the Empire Builders authors was Edward Hale Bierstadt, who was an NBC employee. Other professional writers who wrote for this radio series included Wyllis O. Cooper, Dan Markell, and George Redman. Empire Builders actress Virginia Gardiner submitted a couple of stories after the production moved to Chicago. The GN’s own Harold Sims contributed at least two or three stories, too.

In an effort to tap into the pool of writing talent assumed to exist beyond the narrow confines of this select group, Sims solicited scripts from other professional sources. Stories used on Empire Builders included submissions from Walter Dickson, Ruby Bailey Harlow, Ben Hur Lampman, and Alice Elinor. But for Harold Sims, this was not enough. He wanted to test the waters, to see what other inventive stories were circulating out there, and to generate additional buzz and attention to the radio series. He understood that newspapers would print more copy about the railroad and its advertising campaign if he fed them something of substance. A script-writing contest fit the bill, and might generate some useful stories to boot. One source I have suggests the GN reached out to St. Paul radio station KSTP for ideas for story material, and it may have been the input of KSTP that generated the idea of a script contest.

Cover of radio contest brochure. This one was issued to Great Northern Railway employees.
Author's collection

The contest was structured to enlist the aid of staff at various radio stations in Great Northern territory that carried the Empire Builders radio broadcasts. This included NBC affiliates in St. Paul (KSTP), Spokane (KHQ), Seattle (KOMO), Portland (KGW), and San Francisco (KGO). Each station handled their role in the contest a little differently, but they typically put together a small selection committee comprised of the local GN agent, radio station staff, and/or one or two local authors or English professors. The selection committees made their choices and forwarded the results to Harold Sims in St. Paul. The railroad also opened the competition to its own employees. These contests – a total of six in all – resulted in the awarding of three prizes for each. There was a first place prize of $250, $150 for second place, and $100 for third. In total, then, there was $3,000 in prize money awarded to the top entrants in the contest.

A press release from Harold Sims was distributed in late July to announce the contest. Sims stated that submissions did not have to adhere to continuity format, and that the contest was open to all comers, professional or amateur. Authors did not need to be previously published. Sims explained that submissions should “direct the attention of radio listeners to the Northwest’s advantages as a vacationland, and should suggest its industrial and agricultural opportunities.” He said the content could entail drama, melodrama, romance, adventure, comedy, or any combination thereof. The contest was slated to close on various dates through October and November. The Portland contest closed on November 1^st. Interested parties were encouraged to contact their respective radio station to obtain a brochure put out by the GN with  helpful suggestions about how to write for radio.

On September 25^th, 1930, the Sunday Oregonian newspaper ran a piece about the Empire Builders radio series, and how it was to start up again from its usual summer hiatus on the 29^th. A small inset contained a reminder about the Empire Builders script writing contest. The newspaper claimed “a large number” of manuscripts had already been submitted, and warned their readers the contest would close in just a few days. Harold Sims wrote to GN president Ralph Budd on October 3rd and reported the KGW contest in Portland had garnered 116 manuscripts by that date, adding he had only read about 25 of them, but among this selection found one "that is exceptionally good."

On November 10th, the Morning Oregonian announced the winners of the Portland segment of the GN's radio script contest. Interestingly, the selection committee felt compelled to announce two winners of the $100 Third Place prize.

Originally from Missouri, housewife Marie Eleanor Allen married Edgar Wallace Ryan. The couple and their four children made their home across the Columbia River from Portland at Vancouver, Washington. One of the proudest and most prominent features of the small city of Vancouver was the old Hudson’s Bay Company compound located there, and known as historic Fort Vancouver (or at times, “Vancouver Barracks,” when the U.S. Army occupied the site). Situated on the banks of the Columbia River, the fort was established in 1825 as a headquarters for managing the burgeoning Pacific Northwest fur trade.

The fort was set up to be self-sufficient in many regards. It could take six to eight months to communicate with the “outside world” and get re-supplied. When an overland expedition or round-the-cape sailing ship did arrive, it was time to drop everything, put on the Sunday go-to-meeting finery, and launch a spirited celebration.

The Fort Vancouver compound eventually included large gardens and an orchard. But there was not a lot of indigenous fruit to be found at Fort Vancouver in the early days. Settlers from Europe and the eastern U.S. found themselves pining for such simple pleasures as fresh apples. And so it was that one employee of HBC, on his return from a weeks-long sojourn to his mother England, brought back some apple seeds and planted them at Fort Vancouver. Early records of the Fort and its inhabitants are sparse. We may have lost to history the exact identity of Fort Vancouver’s “Johnny Appleseed.” Some sources say the man was Captain Æmilius Simpson, head of the HBC’s pacific coastal trade. Others name Arthur Drake. Regardless of who deserves credit for importing apples to the Pacific Northwest, there are at least a couple variations on the story of how that came to be. Whoever the man was, it was said that he attended a dinner (held perhaps in his honor) in London, just prior to setting sail to return to Fort Vancouver. He either ate an apple at the dinner and saved the seeds (or was handed some apple seeds), and brought the seeds with him on the journey. It was variously either an accident, or his intention to bring the seeds to be planted at his destination.

One of the best sources of information about the “Old Apple Tree” at Fort Vancouver is an article prepared in 2010 by Robert J. Cromwell, Ph.D., of the National Park Service. In his 22-page scholarly report, he pulled together vital details from a wide range of sources, including some histories of the area published 80 years ago or more. Back in 1930, when Marie Ryan wrote “The Marriage Tree” script, she no doubt consulted at least one or two of the same sources cited by Dr. Cromwell.

One of the many sources cited by Dr. Cromwell was an early newspaper article about the apple tree. In 1911, the Morning Oregonian newspaper published what is believed to be the first public acknowledgement of the historic importance of the old apple tree:

Vancouver Barracks, Wash., Jan. 21.—The discovery this week of the oldest apple tree in the Northwest, which has borne fruit for more than eighty years, has aroused much interest, and hundreds have visited the post just to see the tree with a remarkable record. Colonel George K. McGunnegle, commander of the post, as soon as he was convinced by A.A. Quarnberg, district fruit inspector, that this tree was planted eighty-five years ago, gave orders to have it preserved. A suitable fence around the base of the tree will be built, and a stone monument, with a short history of its remarkable record, will be placed in the enclosure. Relic hunters who desire a piece of the tree will be severely punished if caught marring the oldest inhabitant of any apple orchard in the Northwest.

The fact that this tree, after eighty years of bearing, should bear fruit each year, is regarded as of the utmost importance to the apple-raising industry in the Northwest.

The tree is located in the southwest corner of the reservation, in front of the chief commissary’s office. So little was thought of the scrubby-looking relic of bygone days that it was used to anchor a guy wire to. This has been removed.

The tree is sixteen inches in diameter and about twenty feet high.

Vintage photographic postcard showing the old apple tree
and a plaque erected to acknowledge its historic importance. The plaque reads:

THE OLDEST APPLE TREE

IN THE NORTHWEST.

Grown from seed brought from
London England planted in 1826
By the Hudson Bay Company.

 

Marie Ryan, author of this night’s radio story, was clearly familiar with the old apple tree of Fort Vancouver, and had either learned of or had access to published accounts of the origin of the tree. She wove into her tale a suggestion that Native Americans of the region had a tradition that involved the planting of a tree when a man wished to marry. According to Ryan’s story, an Indian man would plant a tree alongside his teepee or other lodging, and if it flourished, his marriage would be blessed by the great spirits. I have no idea if this is indeed an established tradition in Native American culture or a complete fabrication by Ryan (or someone else). If you have any definitive information about this (and can quote a published source), I’d be grateful to hear from you about it.

The continuity for this broadcast of Empire Builders indicated that the program opened with the playing of a tune called “Marlbrough s'en va-t-en guerre” which I understand translates as “Marlborough Has Left for the War.” The tune is apparently the same one we are all familiar with as “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow,” or “The Bear Went Over the Mountain.” What followed this tune was Ted Pearson opening the show by announcing Marie Ryan as the author of the story and first-place winner of the Portland section of the radio script contest.

ANNOUNCER:          During the past summer, the Great Northern Railway has been conducting a series of contests for radio playlets for Empire Builders, sponsored by a number of well-known radio stations throughout the country. Tonight’s playlet is the first prize winner in the contest conducted by Station KGW, in Portland, Oregon. It was written by Mrs. E. W. Ryan, of Vancouver, Washington, and was selected from some three hundred playlets submitted to that station. This is a story of the early west, in the days when the flag of the Hudson’s Bay Company floated over what is today Oregon.

The Empire Builder is ready to leave, and we invite you to come along with us to hear the story of the “Marriage Tree” . . . . . .

With the appropriate sounds of a train pulling out from a station, and the conductor’s call of “All-l-l-l Abo-o-o-ard!”, the ethereal Empire Builder train departed Portland and carried the radio listeners eastward for the trip past old Fort Vancouver. The Old Timer befriended a little girl and her mother, offering both of them a tasty apple and a tale of the old apple tree on the bank of the Columbia River. The little girl saved the seeds from her apple so she could take them home and plant them, but her mother said apple trees are grown from seedlings. The Old Timer explained that in the old days, they had to start the apple trees from seed.

OLD TIMER:  Yes, the oldest apple tree in the Northwest was grown from a tiny apple seed that was brought all the way over here from London.

MARY JANE: Was it just like these seeds, Old Timer?

OLD TIMER:  Just like them. How would you like to see that tree, Mary Jane? We’re going to go right past it pretty soon.

MOTHER:      Oh, is that so? Where is it?

OLD TIMER:  Let’s see. We’ll be going past Vancouver Barracks in a minute or two, and it sets right out there on the parade ground. Quite a romance connected with it, too. Folks called it the “Marriage Tree.”

To this day, the Portland section of Amtrak’s Empire Builder passenger train still rolls right past the old apple tree at Fort Vancouver (aka “Vancouver Barracks”). A few years ago, BNSF (which operates the railroad tracks through that area) established the name “Apple Tree” to a crew changeover point at milepost 10.9 on the Fallbridge Sub. The tree is only a few dozen yards away. I’m not aware of anyone ever referring to the old apple tree at Fort Vancouver as the “marriage tree.” That may have been an invention for the sake of the story.

When little Mary Jane (most likely portrayed by Betty White – 26-year-old Betty Reynolds White) asked the Old Timer if the Marriage Tree got married, he responded:

OLD TIMER:  (CHUCKLE)  Well, not exactly, but it helped some people get married. You see, this was back in 1826 – more than a hundred years ago, and Vancouver Barracks was Fort Vancouver, a post of the Hudson’s Bay Company. The Hudson’s Bay Company, you know, had the exclusive rights to fur trading in the British possessions in America, and they established posts, or factories, they called them, all over this Northwest. This post here was named after Admiral George Vancouver, a famous British sailor who explored this country in 1792. The Hudson’s Bay Company had been chartered two hundred years before by King Charles II, and they were nearly as powerful as their mother country. They had their own military organization…

The impromptu history dissertation was abruptly halted when it was revealed that the train was just passing the old apple tree. Mary Jane asked the Old Timer if that gnarled old tree started out as a little seed.

OLD TIMER:  Bless my soul, yes. You see it all began this way. Young Arthur Drake was a captain in the British Army, on detached service with the Hudson’s Bay Company at Fort Vancouver, back in 1825. Old Doctor McLoughlin, the factor at the fort, had given Arthur several months leave to go back to England. The night before he started back to America, they had a big banquet for him; and his sweetheart, Alice Douglas sat at his side at the great table. After the dinner, they wandered out to the big old fireplace to sit and dream of Oregon and their future . . . .

As you see from this tidbit of the Old Timer’s dialog, it was Arthur Drake and not Æmilius Simpson to whom credit was ascribed for illegally importing and planting an invasive plant species. Oh, wait – layers of governmental oversight and ponderous tomes full of agricultural regulations came much later. But I for one am very fond of apples, so whoever brought the seeds over from England, bully for you old chap.

The radio continuity indicates a musical transition at this point, with sound effects for a crackling fire and “dance music of the period” in the background. A newspaper clipping from 1930 states this broadcast featured Don Ameche and Bernardine Flynn, but does not specify their roles. It’s my belief that Ameche played Drake, and Flynn likely played his romantic interest, Alice Douglas.

The ensuing dialog let the listeners understand that Arthur and Alice were in England, and Arthur was preparing to return to America. Alice lamented that she would be disconsolate in his absence, but Arthur tried to reassure her by reminding her that she was scheduled to follow him soon after. Arthur had to convince Alice that she would not be up to accompanying him on the arduous overland journey that he was about to embark upon. Alice grumped that the sailing voyage she would be taking around Cape Horn would be interminable since they would be apart, but Arthur assured her it would be vastly less taxing on her.

It sounds like the route that Arthur took was called the York Factory Express. This route was used to ferry supplies from England to Fort Vancouver, and furs back to the markets of England. The westbound overland embarkation point was a fort in Manitoba, on the banks of Hudson Bay, called York Factory.

As Alice came to grips with her disappointment about parting ways with her fella, she got to thinking about something Arthur had once told her about. She asked him to tell her again about the legend of the marriage tree.

ARTHUR:       Well … it isn’t exactly a legend, darling. It’s a custom amongst the Indians that live out there along the Columbia River. When a young brave finds the girl he wishes to marry, he plants a little tree alongside his tepee … if the tree grows and flourishes, it means the gods approve his choice … and –

ALICE:           Arthur, dear … … couldn’t we have a marriage tree of our own, out there in Oregon?

ARTHUR:       A splendid idea, my dear. It would grow and grow … and live for a hundred years!  (PAUSE)  But how shall we do it?

ALICE:           I know. Give me one of those apples. Now, I’ll cut it in half … we’ll each eat half, and … there! Here’s your half. We’ll save the seeds … you take them with you out to Oregon, and plant –

ARTHUR:       Our marriage tree! God bless you, darling. Ah, I know our marriage tree will grow and flourish … and long after Fort Vancouver is dust, our tree – our marriage tree – will live on and on and on ….

Goodness! Sounds like the makings of a highly sentimental story well-suited to telling in a radio broadcast. Lucky for us, that’s just what they did back in 1930.

OLD TIMER:  And so Arthur came on back to Oregon and Fort Vancouver, carrying with him the apple seeds that Alice had given him. It was a long, long journey out here in those days – railroads out here hadn’t even been thought of, and they had to paddle canoes nearly all the way –

MARY JANE: Over the land, too, Old Timer?

OLD TIMER:  Well, not exactly, Mary Jane … but they had to carry their canoes on their backs from stream to stream. Portagin’, they called it … and it was just one of the hardships those early fur traders had to go through. Well, Arthur got to Fort Vancouver in the spring o’ the year, when the fur brigades was settin’ out for their yearly trips among the Indians. Doctor McLoughlin, who was a pretty strict leader sent Arthur right out, the day after he arrived, at the head o’ one of the brigades, and Arthur just barely had time to give the seeds to old Gordon Bruce, Doctor McLoughlin’s Scottish gardener …

It turns out that Dr. John McLoughlin (1784-1857) really was the Chief Factor (or manager) and Superintendent of HBC’s Fort Vancouver 1824 to 1845. In this respect, the script once again was true to the historic record. It departed from that record, however, in naming the Scottish gardener. The references that I’ve discovered give the name of the gardener as William Bruce, not Gordon Bruce. I cannot account for that discrepancy, other than to speculate that “Gordon” may have sounded a tad more Scottish to the continuity editors.

With a suitable amount of bagpipe music (probably performed up on the roof of the Merchandise Mart), Drake and Bruce talked about how Bruce could tend Drake’s little tree (which had yet to even sprout) while Drake went about doing his duties gathering furs.

Not long after Drake’s departure with his small contingent of men, a sailing ship arrived on the Columbia River. Onboard was Drake’s fiancée, Alice Douglas. She settled in at the fort, and soon Gordon Bruce the gardener was showing her what was now but a tiny sprout of an apple tree. Alice next entered into a conversation with Dr. McLoughlin’s wife, but a drunken Indian appeared on the scene and caused a ruckus. It seems the Indian thought he could offer a pile of furs in payment for a “white squaw.” He took an instant liking to Alice Douglas. Dr. McLoughlin directed a couple of the fort’s men to drag the Indian outside the walls of the fort, give him thirty lashes, and chase him off. It was rather unseemly business, and is a particularly unsavory scene for an Empire Builders playlet. Even Alice expressed concern about the rough treatment of the Indian.

ALICE:           Oh, but they’re not going to whip him, are they? Oh, Doctor!

DOCTOR:       Certainly, they’re going to whip him. I chased him away once for the same thing, and warned him he’d get it if he ever came back. He’s back – ergo he gets flogged. We must teach these savages respect for white women.

ALICE:           It seems an awfully hard thing to do . . .

MRS. Mc:       After you’ve lived out here, my dear, you will know it is not so hard, nor so cruel as it appears. We are white – they are native, and there is a great gulf between.

ALICE:           Yes, I suppose it is right, after all. But it seems – well, rather barbaric.

DOCTOR:       Such villains are barbarous, my dear – and they respond only to barbarous treatment. But come in our house, and tell us about England. It’s been years since I was home . . .

So the story transitioned back aboard the Empire Builder train again, and the Old Timer explained to little Mary Jane and her mother that a month or so transpired, and Alice often bided her time walking along trails near the fort. One day, out walking alone, she unexpectedly came upon the once-more drunken Indian. He grabbed Alice and began trying to drag her off, but this commotion was interrupted by the distant sounds of Arthur Drake’s boat returning to the fort. The men were singing as they rowed, but one of them managed to pick up Alice’s screaming in the distance. Drake recognized her voice, and now the action took a decidedly faster pace.

Drake and one of his men leapt out of the little boat and swam ashore. Drake caught up to Alice and took her in his loving arms (*sigh*). His colleague chased after the drunken Indian, caught the scoundrel, and dragged him back to the fort. There was no further discussion of what was to become of the Indian, but Bruce the gardener approached Drake and Alice and announced he had good news: the marriage tree had sprouted!

With all manner of happy tidings, Drake asked Dr. McLoughlin if he was available to perform a wedding ceremony. Evidently, he was.

The story came to a close at that point, as did my copy of the continuity, so I don’t have Ted Pearson’s closing announcements. This is unfortunate if for no other reason than it might well have identified some of the performers and their roles in the broadcast.

 

In 1954, a story by Oregon author Ellis Lucia made the rounds with a tale of the old apple tree at Fort Vancouver. In that missive, Lucia named the apple-seed toting lovers as Arthur Drake and Priscilla Langdon. Regardless who the two people were (and regardless whether they were lovers or even more than casual acquaintances), it’s clear the “old apple tree” still living near Fort Vancouver is indeed very old, and at least representative of a pivotal event in the agricultural history of the Pacific Northwest.

 

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

 

301201 - The Williamson Survey (aka "Carmencita")

Recording status:  not recorded

In the mid-1850’s, the U.S. Secretary of War, Jefferson Davis (yep, that one – eventually President of the Confederacy during the Civil War) oversaw the Pacific Railroad Surveys. This project was launched to locate favorable railroad routes across the United States. Five railroad surveys were conducted, the fifth and final of these led by Lieutenant Robert Williamson, starting in California and heading north into Washington Territory. Robert S. Williamson (1825-1882), ultimately a lieutenant colonel in the U.S. Army, served as Chief Topographical Engineer of the Department of the Pacific. Oregon’s Williamson River, which flows through south-central Oregon, is named for the Lieutenant Colonel. This night's broadcast was a dramatization of Williamson's survey trek up through central Oregon.

Lt. Robert S. Williamson. Library of Congress collection

Long after the 1893 completion of the transcontinental main line of the GN, the railroad created a new and significant branch through central Oregon to offer shippers access to California on their trains. The work of the Williamson survey party three quarters of a century earlier laid out a feasible direction for the railroad to build the new line. Construction on the final section of this route [also known as the “Inside Gateway”] was started in 1927, running about 68 miles from Bend to Chemult, Oregon. The GN operated into Klamath Falls via trackage rights over the Southern Pacific, and from there the line was extended about 92 miles, into California, to meet up with the Western Pacific at Bieber. The line was completed in November of 1931. A year prior to the completion of the line, the Great Northern saw this topic as good material for a story on Empire Builders.

 

According to the material I’ve located to date, this broadcast of Empire Builders was not recorded by the Great Northern Railway. Nor have I yet located a copy of the continuity for this program, other than what may be a partial  copy published in the Great Northern Goat magazine in 1931. Adding to the incomplete nature of my knowledge of this particular radio play is that the title of it is likewise uncertain. Some resources present this broadcast as “The Williamson Survey.” In another source, it appears to be called “Carmencita.” When I first encountered this alternate title, I thought perhaps there was a confusion with an earlier broadcast called “Carmelita” (301006). However, I now understand these are two distinct names for two distinct broadcasts. The confusion was simply my own.

Photograph with caption, as it appeared in the January, 1931, Great Northern Goat magazine.
Author's collection

Uncropped version of same image as above, showing cast of "Carmencita."
This is a roughly 8 by 10 press photo.
Author's collection

The Great Northern Goat was a small format magazine published by the railroad for the primary purpose of keeping the company’s ticket agents apprised of news about railroad business, personnel, and changes in traffic rates or services. The Goat first appeared in 1925. It was published on a mostly monthly basis throughout its existence, which ended with the March, 1970, merger that created the Burlington Northern railroad. In addition to posting brief synopses of upcoming Empire Builders broadcasts, the Goat was twice published as a special edition to showcase the radio advertising campaign. The first such edition was issued for April, 1930, and had the cover title “Special Empire Builders Edition.” The January, 1931, edition of the Goat was titled the “Radio Number.”  My pal Lindsay Korst acquired a spare copy of this issue of the Goat magazine from me a few years ago. He then scanned the entire issue and posted it, page by page, to his web site devoted to all things GN:  http://www.gngoat.org/1931_goat.htm

 

This issue of the Goat contains a replication of an Empire Builders radio continuity – at least it appears to. It appears the material in the Goat magazine provided readers with a glimpse of what a radio continuity looked like. The article began by providing some of the dialog intended for the Williamson Survey (or Carmencita) broadcast, but then it broke into a lengthy review of the performers and production crew of the show (all in continuity, or script, format, as though it might have actually been broadcast that way). I don’t believe the folks behind the mike actually talked about themselves to the radio audience. I think it’s more likely the interviewing of principals of the radio series was provided only in the Goat magazine.

The Empire Builders broadcast of December 1, 1930, was announced as a story of the extension of the Great Northern Railway through central Oregon into the state of California. Here’s how a press release for the program was offered in the November 30, 1930, San Antonio (TX) Express newspaper:

EMPIRE BUILDERS WILL TELL STORY OF ROMANTIC WEST

Delving into the romantic story of California's past, a tale of adventure and exploration full of action, romance and breathless suspense will be told in the "Empire Builders" radio drama for Monday evening, Dec. 1, when the program goes on the air from the Chicago studios of the National Broadcasting Company between the hours of 9:30 and 10 o'clock Central Standard Time, and broadcast locally by WOAI.

The drama will tell of the surveying and laying out of the route followed today by the California extension of the Great Northern Railway. The love story of a beautiful Spanish senorita and a Westerner provides the main theme of the story, the dramatic interest of which is heightened by a succession of obstacles overcome only by hard fighting and heroic action.

The Empire Builders triumvirate of Harvey Hays as the "Old Timer," Bernardine Flynn as the Spanish senorita, and Don Ameche as the dashing young hero, will be featured again in the leading roles, supported by a large cast of actors. Elaborate sound effects have been planned to give the radio presentation an atmosphere of unusual realism.

The material presented in the Goat magazine began with content and format clearly reminiscent of one of the many actual continuities for the show that I’ve retrieved. Here’s how the representation of this show began, in the magazine at least:

Empire Builders

9:30 to 10:00 PM  CST                                                                                   Monday Nights

ANNOUNCER:         The Great Northern Railway presents EMPIRE BUILDERS!

(Orchestral music which fades to speeding train effect indicating the arrival of the Great Northern Railway’s crack train – The Empire Builder.)

ANNOUNCER:         Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, we are going to take you to the Chicago studios of the National Broadcasting Company, which occupy the entire 19^th and 20^th floors of the world’s largest building – the new Merchandise Mart. Here for the next half hour we will mingle with the cast of Empire Builders, listen to the music of Josef Koestner’s orchestra and peek into odd corners to see how this nationally broadcast radio program is produced.

I see that the members of the cast are now grouped before the “mikes” ready to go on the air. Suppose we listen to them for a brief time.

(The scene is laid near the Oregon-California boundary where construction crews are busily pushing steel southward on the Great Northern’s new extension into California. There is a background of steam shovel effects, tooting of steam shovel whistles, clang of rails, etc.)

I’m not quite sure what to make of that last bit, in the parentheses. I’m speculating that it was written, as shown above, as pure narrative for the sake of the magazine article.

The radio playlet opened with a conversation between the Old Timer and a fellow named Craig, who was involved in building the new railroad line into California. The Old Timer painted a glowing picture of the rich timber and farming land in the region of the new line.

CRAIG:          Yeah … Well, this part of Oregon and California’s waited a long time for this railroad.

OLD TIMER: (Chuckles) Seventy-five years about!

CRAIG:          Seventy-five years? Why, say, there wasn’t any railroads west of the Mississippi seventy-five years ago, were there?

OLD TIMER: No, there weren’t. but there were explorin’ parties right along here – and for that matter, all over the west, as early as 1855.

CRAIG:          Well, that’s sure news to me.

OLD TIMER: Yes, sir, and the remarkable thing is that nearly all the western railways were built pretty nearly along the routes discovered in those explorations before the Civil War – routes that were declared practicable by fine Army men like Gunnison and Stevens and Beckwith and Williamson.

CRAIG:          And this route between Oregon and California was one of them?

OLD TIMER: The very first railroad route ever explored up and down the coast! Yes, sir! The strange thing is though that the first railroad built didn’t follow it. (Chuckles) Why, Craig, I reckon if you’d been standin’ on this very spot back in August of 1855, you’d of seen a party of soldiers led by a young lieutenant named Williamson, a-comin’ over the ridge there – just about where you’re makin’ the big cut …

After the history lesson, the Old Timer was just on the verge of busting loose with another of his riveting stories.

CRAIG:          Well, I’ll be darned.

OLD TIMER: And it must’ve been right around here that the Indians had Terry an’ Hobbs an’ Suzanne cornered. Dog my cats, there’s a story for you sometime.

CRAIG:          (Laughing) Sometime! You know, there’s no time like the present, Old Timer.

OLD TIMER: Well, it was like this Craig. Lieutenant Williamson and his soldiers started out from Benicia – that’s down by San Francisco – and they was a-heading north. Why, I can just close my eyes and see ‘em all – Lieutenant Williamson … the soldiers … an’ a girl ‘bout as plucky as they come … Suzanne was her name.

(The orchestra comes in here playing a military number popular about 1850, indicating the transition to the scene of the story)

The acting troupe of the Empire Builders took their turns at the microphone to dramatize a brief scene in which the Lieutenant chats with Suzanne, Terry, and Carmencita. The Lieutenant and his men were about to embark on their surveying journey from Benicia (near the San Francisco Bay) to the Columbia River (which comprises a healthy section of the dividing line between Oregon and Washington). One of Williamson’s men, Joe Hobbs, also joined the conversation, which was pretty much limited to everyone exchanging farewells, and commiserating over the fact they would all miss one another. We also learned from this exchange that Hobbs had a pronounced stutter. Once the Williamson party mounted up and set out, Ted Pearson came to the microphone, and the entire continuity – at least as it appeared in the Goat magazine – took on an entirely different course.

ANNOUNCER:         And now, ladies and gentlemen, we will have to leave the actors for a while, as there are many things we must do in this half hour. However, for those who must know how the story ends, I will say that Terry receives news that there is Indian trouble to the north and rides forth to notify Lieutenant Williamson. He meets Hobbs and the two of them are cornered by Indians, who are henchmen of a Spanish renegade named Romero, but are rescued through the courage of Suzanne.

            The program closes with Romero getting his just deserts. Before continuing our explorations perhaps I had better introduce myself first.

Pearson then proceeded to invite one person after another to the mike to be interviewed. Regarding this night’s radio play, we learn through this process some of the cast assignments.

Old Timer:                   Harvey Hays

Lt. Williamson:           unnamed

Craig:                          unnamed

Suzanne:                      Lucille Husting

Carmencita:                 Bernardine Flynn

Terry:                           Don Ameche

Joe Hobbs:                  Bob White

(L-R) Lucille Husting; Don Ameche; Bernardine Flynn; Ted Doucet (unconfirmed). Press photo.
Author's collection

 

When it came time to introduce Bob White’s wife, Betty, the material in the Goat magazine planted the seed of a perplexing mystery. I may be getting redundant on this point, but I’ll make it again: a young woman (but an adult woman) named Betty White – Betty Reynolds White – was a member of the cast of Empire Builders in its final season. This was not a youthful Betty Marion White, she of the game show and sitcom fame of more recent years. Bob and Betty (Reynolds) White had three sons: Robert, Jr.; Bradley; and Evan. Bradley passed away in the late 1980s, not long after their mother passed. Robert is the eldest of the three brothers, having been born in 1928, prior to his parents joining the cast of Empire Builders. So although Betty Reynolds White was great with child in early December (Bradley was born in March of 1931), they had at that time, by all reliable accounts, only one child: Robert. The “other” Betty White – Betty Marion White – was born in Oak Park, Illinois (a suburb of Chicago) in 1922. At the time of this broadcast, Betty Marion White was almost nine years old, but she has stated publicly that she and her parents had relocated to California by that time. So all the available, reliable data indicates Betty Marion White never had anything to do with Empire Builders. But here’s where it all starts to get a little odd.
 

Betty Reynolds White, who appeared on Empire Builders.
Author's collection

 

Betty Reynolds White, at a petite 4’11” tall, specialized in child’s voices. In fact, many fans of Empire Builders wrote to the railroad to ask the identity of the adorable little girl they heard on the radio, only to learn the “little girl” was in her mid-20s. And very pregnant. From the January, 1931, Goat magazine, here’s what Ted Pearson supposedly said about Betty Reynolds White:

After the Thanksgiving program we received a number of letters congratulating us on the excellent child actress we had obtained for that program. Of course I may be giving away a state secret but that “child actress” wasn’t quite as young as she seemed, as she has a daughter old enough to fill the part visually that she took vocally. This was Mrs. Betty White.

I have spoken by phone with both Robert and Evan White. They are both adamant that they did not have a sister – at least not one that they ever knew of.

I have located corroborating alternate sources to validate virtually all factual detail pertaining to the several individuals mentioned in this Goat magazine article, with the glaring exception of the comment about Betty White having a daughter old enough to have played a young girl. Was this a complete fabrication? Was it willfully deliberate? Or was there some hidden truth to it? And even if Bob and Betty White had a daughter, one who vanished from their lives and was never mentioned to their sons in later years, what became of her? Could a fanciful tale be concocted to tie Betty Marion White’s life into this odd story? That just seems beyond outlandish. It is well documented that the parents of Betty Marion White were Christine Tess (née Cachikis) and Horace Logan White. If one were to conjure up a story of how Bob and Betty White had a daughter, named her Betty like her mother, and then found some circumstance to put her up for adoption, what are the odds the adopting parents would also be named White? It’s all pretty preposterous, and has not a shred of valid evidence to support it. But if Bob and Betty White did have a daughter, and it was not Betty Marion White, then who was she and what became of her? Frankly, it seems like the most rational answer to this puzzle is that the author of the Goat magazine article invented the daughter assertion to underscore the age of Betty Reynolds White, without actually stating her age in years. Even that explanation seems pretty strange, but at least it provides an angle that allows for all the other known facts to reside in harmony.

(L-R): Bernardine Flynn; Harvey Hays; January the hound dog; Bob White; Lucille Husting; Don Ameche.
Author's collection

One of the principals of the radio series mentioned in the Goat magazine was Harold M. Sims, the executive assistant to the GN’s president, Ralph Budd. Ted Pearson duly noted the contributions Sims was making to identifying and inventing crucial sound effects, and also his couple of script submissions. One of the many duties that former newspaperman Sims had with Empire Builders was to write the weekly (and additional periodic) press releases about the broadcasts. When Sims was “brought to the microphone” (in reality, or only in print), he commented on the recently concluded radio script writing contest. He summed up the details thoroughly:

This year it was decided to give our listeners, particularly those living in the Northwest, an opportunity to get their favorite story produced in this series of programs. So, with the cooperation of five of the N.B.C. stations, we announced a series of radio story contests with prizes of $250, $150 and $100 offered for the three best stories in each contest. Conditions similar to those I have already mentioned, were made and judges were appointed by the various stations.

The returns from this source were far more than we expected and the judges had considerable difficulty in picking the best continuities. However, decisions were reached in all the contests and following is a list of the winning stories and their authors:

In the KSTP, St. Paul, Minn., contest Mr. Edward Staadt of the University of Minnesota won first prize. In the KGO, San Francisco, Calif., contest “La Mariposa,” written by Emilia Clapham of Berkeley, was declared the winner. Miss Ida M. Jones of Spokane, Wash., won the contest conducted by KHQ of that city with a story on Colonel Steptoe. Miss Vera S. Cockrane of Bremerton, Wash., was winner of the KOMO, Seattle contest. Her story was called the “Ascent of Mt. Rainier” and Mrs. E. W. Ryan of Vancouver, Wash., won the KGW, Portland, Ore., contest with a story entitled “The Marriage Tree.”

A contest was also sponsored among the members of the Great Northern Railway and the winning story was by Mr. Mark Haywood.

As the stories submitted by these contest winners come up in the rotation, I will comment about them in the corresponding future blog entries.

 

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

 

301124 - Bellingham or Broadway

Recording status:  recorded; not located

The Great Northern Railway paid to have this broadcast recorded in 1930, but to date, no copy of this recording is known to exist. I have a nearly-complete continuity however. In some contemporary write-ups about this broadcast, the newspapers simply referred to this night’s offering as a “Thanksgiving Story.” However, some sources title the story as “Bellingham or Broadway.” The author of the story was Dan Markell, about whom I have written previously. It appears he chose to try to protect his rights to some extent regarding the play: in December he filed with the Library of Congress for copyright of the story, under the title “Bellingham vs. Broadway.” I cannot account for the slight variation in the title, but that may have been something Markell did to distinguish his filing from the airing of the story on Empire Builders.

The program opened with the usual orchestral arrangement, which was accompanied by the crescendo of an arriving train, the bell ringing for about five to ten seconds through the music and the train noises. Then announcer Ted Pearson set the stage for the play in a brief conversation with the Old Timer:

ANNOUNCER:    There’s a happy throng on board the Empire Builder tonight. For it’s Thanksgiving time, and folks are homeward bound. Homeward bound! That’s why everybody’s happy! Families going back to spend Thanksgiving on the old farm with grand-dad … and grand-mother – bless her dear old heart – bet she’s baking those spicy, golden pumpkin pies or fixing pop-corn balls right now … sons and daughters – grandchildren – going home for the holidays. Yes, everybody’s brimming over with Thanksgiving spirit tonight on the Empire Builder … that is … well … everybody except maybe Sally, the little six-year-old traveling all alone up in one of those forward Pullmans … and perhaps that vaudeville couple – with Alex. It doesn’t look right now like much Thanksgiving cheer for them … but … we’ll see! And here comes Old Timer too. Hello, Old Timer. You almost got left.

OLD TIMER:        Well, consarn my catamounts, if I’d missed the Empire Builder … say … I’d have broken a date with the biggest turkey in the state of Washington!

ANNOUNCER:    Washington! You’re going quite a ways for your Thanksgiving dinner, aren’t you, Old Timer?

OLD TIMER:        W-e-l-l! I’d go a heap farther for a dinner like the one that’ll be waiting for me out in Bellingham. Got some friends out there ‘t asked me a month ago, and –

The Old Timer continued to chat with Ted Pearson about the big feast, detailing some of the delicacies he anticipated eating: Olympia oyster dressing, cranberries from Clatsop County in Oregon, and fresh green vegetables. Pearson reacted with great surprise at the thought of enjoying fresh vegetables in the Pacific Northwest in November, but the Old Timer assured him that was par for the course in that region. The conversation was interrupted by the conductor’s shouts of “All Aboard!” Sound effects then transitioned to a scene onboard the train. At this point, the listeners were introduced to the vaudeville couple mentioned by Pearson. Their names were Frank and Norma Drury. As they breathlessly clambered aboard the departing train, Frank beseeched the porter to be careful with their large brown suitcase:

FRANK:                 Be very careful, porter.

PORTER:              Yes suh.

FRANK:                 Say porter, do you hear anything sort of stirring around in that suit-case?

PORTER:              Stuhhing aroun’? No suh … no suh!

FRANK:                 Well listen! Listen now.

(PAUSE)

PORTER:              No suh, nothin’ stuhhin’ aroun’.

FRANK:                 Well listen again.

PORTER:              Yes suh.

(TURKEY CALL, SLIGHTLY MUFFLED – GOBBLE – GOBBLE – GOBBLE)

PORTER:              (agitated)  Goo’ness me, mistah. You all hain’t got a live tukkey in this yere suit-case, has you?

Frank continued to torment the porter with his little prank.

FRANK:                 (chuckling)  There! I was afraid you’d shake him up. Now we’ll have a terrible time getting him quiet again.

PORTER:              (disturbed)  Don’ tell me he am liable to raise a ruckus on this yere Empiah Buildah?

FRANK:                 I’m afraid so. Sometimes it’s simply dreadful the way he carries on.

PORTER:              Well, he done shut up now, mistah.

FRANK:                 That’s good. Now be very careful, please.

PORTER:              (low)  Yes-s-s-s suh!

(TURKEY GOBBLES EXCITEDLY)

PORTER:              (groaning)  Foh hebbens sakes, mistah. Do you all think its faiah to keep a tukkey stuffed up like this in yo’ suitcase?

FRANK:                 We can’t turn him loose here in the car, can we?

The beleaguered porter was getting more agitated by the moment. Frank just kept pouring it on.

PORTER:              Oh, no suh! No-o-o! But ah mean, don’ you think mebby the baggage kyah would …

(TURKEY GOBBLES FRANTICALLY)

FRANK:                 No, I’m afraid the baggage car wouldn’t do at all.  You see, this is an awfully aristocratic turkey … but he likes to ride aristocratic trains – he hates baggage cars.

PORTER:              (moans)  Oh-h-h mistah.  (Do he hate dining kyahs too?)

(DUCK CALL – QUACK – QUACK – QUACK)

PORTER:              Hebbens mistah, hab you done got moah buhds in heah?

(OWL CALL  -- Whoooooooooooo!  … Whoooooooooooo!)

PORTER:              G-g-gosh, mistah! Ah you suah this suit-case ain’ spooked?

FRANK:                 (lightly) No. There’s just a few birds in it – and the least little jiggle disturbs them you know …

PORTER:              Oh han’, stop yo’ jigglin’. Please, han’ quit shakin’ so.

(GOOSE CALL – H – O – N – K)

PORTER:              Ow-w-e-e-e !

FRANK:                 Tsk! Tsk! You almost dropped it then, porter.

PORTER:              (plaintive)  Please, mistah! Couldn’ you all tote youah poultry menagerie in sumppun besides this yere suitcase? Lawsy!

FRANK:                 (laughing)  Well!

It was only at this point that Norma finally weighed in and shamed Frank into ending his joke on the unassuming porter. Which he did. Eventually. But not quite yet.

FRANK:                 Alright, Norma . . . Listen porter, there aren’t any birds in the suit-case at all. Not a single one. In fact the only thing in that suit-case is … is Alex.

(TRAIN WHISTLE OFF)

PORTER:              Alex?

FRANK:                 Yes. Alex is our little boy.

PORTER:              Foh goo’ness sakes, mistah. Don’ tell me you got a lil boy shut up in heah. Why . . .

FRANK:                 Nothing else but, porter. If you don’t believe it … listen.

ALEX:                    (slightly muffled)  Wah!  Wah!  Let – me – out – of – here! Let – me – out – of – here!  Wah.

PORTER:              Whew! Moses! This am drefful. Don’ you know it ain’ lawful to pen a lil chile up in an ol’ heavy suit-case lak this. Ah’m goin’ to take proceduahs raht now to give this boy some aih. Yes suh. Ah aim to oblige the passengers and all, but this pohtah ain’ totin’ chilluns aroun’ in no baggage. No suh!

Apparently, the cheap entertainment playing out at the porter’s expense was just too much temptation for even Norma to resist. One would think this was a threadbare joke between Frank and Norma, but evidently they both continued to get their jollies out of it.

NORMA:              (laughing)  Please don’t be so upset, porter. Certainly Alex should have some air.

(TRAIN WHISTLE OFF)

ALEX:                    An – a – drink – of – wat – ter.  Wah!  Wan – na – drink – of – wat – ter.

PORTER:              Yessa lil boy. Ah’ll get it jus’ as soon as ah get you out of this suit-case.

ALEX:                    Wah – wah!  – Hur – ry!

PORTER:              Boy, ah’s fumblin’ as fas’ as ah can.

FRANK:                 (chuckling)  Oh, he’s all right.

PORTER:              Well we ain’ goin’ to let no chile smothah, mistah!

NORMA:              (with mock concern)  But you must turn the suit-case over, porter. You’ve got our little boy upside down.

As the frazzled porter finally opened the suitcase, it all slowly came clear to him.

PORTER:              Ah have? Oh, the pore lil fellow … Now!

NORMA:              There. That’s right. Now you can open it, porter.

PORTER:              Yessum.  (pauses)  Oooooooooooo! . . .  Well foah hevvens sakes! Is you a natchul chile oah isn’t you?

Norma finally let the poor guy off the hook and explained that Alex was the couple’s ventriloquist dummy, and that she and Frank were vaudeville performers. A general discussion then ensued about how much the porter liked children, real or otherwise, good or bad (“co’s ah like the good ones bes’!”). The porter continued:

PORTER:              Yessum. Ah lake rich ones … poah ones … an’ … ev’y kind. Un hmmmmm! Ah sho do! Thea’s the sweetes’ lil gal on this heah Empiah Buildah today – she’s a awphun – po’ lil kid – an she’s –

Alex the dummy began to fuss about wanting a pillow, which sent the porter scurrying off. A musical bridge and the appropriate sound effects took the radio listeners to another scene aboard the Empire Builder, and a later conversation between Frank and Norma. The two talked wistfully about holidays – especially Thanksgiving – spent on the road as performers, never being able to relax and enjoy the season with family and friends. Norma exclaimed she was getting very weary of constantly traveling about on the vaudeville circuit. Frank tried to console her, and to lift her spirits.

FRANK:                 (softly)  Do you dear?  (pause)  Yes, I know it’s been tough at times. (brightening ) But things are getting better. You bet they are! Things are getting brighter for us every day. Why . . . Remember back when we only played the water-tanks? Those one night stands?

NORMA:              (wearily)  That hasn’t been so long ago.

FRANK:                 And then when we got booked regular?

NORMA:              I know . . . On the five-a-day.

FRANK:                 Well, that was a step ahead, wasn’t it? And now we’re only doing three shows a day. Why . . . Norma . . . pretty soon we’ll be hitting the big time . . . Broadway . . . The Palace.

NORMA:              (tenderly)  Oh Frank, you dear eternal optimist. Don’t you know you’ve told me that for . . . years?

FRANK:                 I know. But we’ll make it . . . if we keep on. We’ll get our names on Broadway . . . yet.

 



Publicity still with Don Ameche in "Henry, Sweet Henry"
at the Palace Theater on Broadway, 1967.
Museum of the City of New York collection

Here’s a bit of irony for you. Don Ameche played Frank the ventriloquist and vaudevillian on this broadcast of Empire Builders. In 1967, Don Ameche made it to The Palace Theater on Broadway, starring in “Henry, Sweet Henry.” And while Ameche went on to have a long career in cinema, his radio work is well known for the Chase and Sanborn Hour, on which he used to banter with Edgar Bergen and his ventriloquist figure, Charlie McCarthy. You can’t make this stuff up.

 

 

Charlie McCarthy, Edgar Bergen, and Don Ameche.
Getty Images collection

The next sequence in the radio playlet followed another bridge of train sounds and transitional music. The porter was back, and he was trying to entertain young Sally, an orphan that he had tried to tell Frank and Norma about earlier in the story. Notes in the continuity express how the porter was to attempt bird sounds:

(The porter’s attempts to imitate fowls should obviously be rather clumsy. The natural voice and not traps should be used in this.)

 

PORTER:              Gubble – gubble – gubble.  (Disgustedly)  Dawg-gone it, them gubbles don’t come raht. Maybe they do bettah nex’ tam . . . Gubble . . . Miss Sally, don’ look at me so. Keep yo’ eyes on yo’ little satchel theah. Now! . . . Gubble . . . Gubble . . . Gub . . . No, that ain’t it eithah!

SALLY:                  (child-like)  What’s it s’posed to be, Jackson?

PORTER:              You guess.

(pause)

SALLY:                  (brightly)  I know. A bear.

PORTER:              No’m. It ain’t a beah. It’s a buhd. Ah tol’ you these weh goin to all be buhds.

Jackson the porter and little Sally the orphan kept at this cute exchange for a few minutes, Jackson doing his darnedest to imitate bird sounds, and Sally earnestly guessing the wrong creature. It seems Markell, the author of the story, was somewhat influenced by the dialect typical of the very popular Amos ‘n Andy shows (“Ah’s regusted”) that were contemporary to the Empire Builders series:

PORTER:              But ah know a lot of othahs. Jus’ you watch that satchel and listen. (pause) Honk! . . . Honk!

SALLY:                  Automobile Horn!

PORTER:              (gloomily)  Mah goo’ness, you is undiscouragin’, Miss Sally. That’s a goose.

SALLY:                  Ummmmm!  A goose!  My you’re the goodest porter, Jackson.

PORTER:              Yessum. An’ heahs anothah . . .  Quock-Quock! . . . Quock-Quock-Quock! . . . Quock! . . .

Just then, a friendly fellow just happened to come upon Sally and Jackson.

OLD TIMER:        Hello! What’s all this quack-quacking business about, Jackson?

(TRAIN WHISTLE OFF)

PORTER:              Well if it isn’t Mistah Ol’ Timah! Howdy boss! Ah’s jus’ been practicing up my ventriloquizzem. You see this lil lady heah, Miss Sally, she . . .

(CROSSING BELL OFF)

Sally asked the Old Timer to sit and join them. The Old Timer naturally obliged.

OLD TIMER:        Thanks Sally. Now, Jackson, you can go on with your animal act.

PORTER:              Not animules, Mistah Ol’ Timah. Buhds! Buhds! You see that lil ol’ satchul theah. That’s Miss Sally’s. Now ah stan’ ovah heah and thro’ mah voice into that satchul – lake this . . . . Who-o-o-o!  Who-o-o-o!

OLD TIMER:        What!

PORTER:              (desperately)  It ain’t what, Mistah Ol’ Timah . . .  It am a Who-o-o!  Who-o-o!

OLD TIMER:        Well I think you’ll have to explain it to me out in the vestibule, Jackson.

The two men excused themselves from Sally and stepped into the vestibule to talk out of Sally’s earshot.

PORTER:              Ah ain’ don’ nothin’ wrong, have ah, Mistah Ol’ Timah?

OLD TIMER:        (chuckling)  Why bless your wooly old pate, Jackson, I should say not. It’s mighty fine of you to entertain the children on the Empire Builder.

(TRAIN WHISTLE OFF)

PORTER:              Thank you, Mistah Ol’ Timah. Most o’ us pohtahs likes chill’n . . . but ah ‘specially wan’ to be nice to pore lil Sally. She’s rahdin’ all alone . . . hain’t got nothin’ oah nobody.

OLD TIMER:        An orphan?

PORTER:              Yessa! Awphan chile. Goin to . . . I think she say it was the Bleekly Home foh Waifs.

Jackson and the Old Timer talked about Sally’s prospects, and the likelihood that she would not be enjoying much of a Thanksgiving feast at an orphanage. The Old Timer quickly concocted a plan to ensure that Sally, and any other young children riding on the Empire Builder, would enjoy a fine Thanksgiving turkey (albeit a little early).

PORTER:              Yo’ mean mebby she wouldn’t get no turkey, foh Thanksgiving!

OLD TIMER:        Turkey! You bet she’ll have turkey. We won’t take any chances on that, Jackson. She’ll have the biggest turkey in the state of Washington.

PORTER:              Lawsy! That’s gran’!

OLD TIMER:        And right here on the Empire Builder too. Course we’ll have to have it a bit ahead of Thanksgiving, but it will taste just as good.

(TRAIN WHISTLE OFF)

OLD TIMER:        I’ll wire ahead for this turkey and pick it up at Spokane. What other children besides Sally can we have at our pre-Thanksgiving dinner, Jackson?

PORTER:              Well suh, that ol’ resahvashum man soaht of discliminated agin’ me this trip. Mah cah am powahful sho’t of chillum. Fac’ is, Sally’s the only chile theah is on mah cah. Now that Hannible, he’s got sevehal.

The Old Timer talked to Jackson about rounding up a few other children to join Sally for the turkey feast, but they concluded that it might be hard to talk the other porters into ushering the children on their cars to the dining car for the little event. There was no particular reason for this conclusion, but I suppose Dan Markell needed an excuse for the Old Timer to invite the “youngster” suggested by Jackson: Alex.

OLD TIMER:        An who’s Alex?

PORTER:              Nobody. Jus’ a dummy chile.

OLD TIMER:        Dumb? A little dumb boy on this train, Jackson?

PORTER:              No, he ain’t dumb. Jus’ dummy. Belong to that ventriloquizzem couple ah’s study’in undah.

OLD TIMER:        Oh . . . I see! Sure!  We’ll invite him!

PORTER:              Yes suh!

OLD TIMER:        And I expect, Jackson, that you’d better invite that couple too. Otherwise you’re apt to find your dummy is dumb.

Soon the happy ensemble was gathered in the Old Timer’s stateroom for their own special pre-Thanksgiving feast. Sally was there, along with Frank and Norma and their little pal, Alex. Jackson was there too, “on loan” as their steward for the evening. They all dove into their delicious food, but Sally bemoaned the fact that Alex couldn’t enjoy any of the feast. That’s when Norma offered that Alex had a little song about the situation. Frank stopped eating long enough to ensure Alex could sing for little Sally.

ALEX:                    (little slow song)               It’s aw – fly hard,

                                                                           To be,

                                                                           A dum – my.

                                                                           ‘Cause a dum – my

                                                                           Don’t have

                                                                           An – ny tum – my.

SALLY:                  (claps her hands)  That’s dandy, Alex.

ALEX:                    (sings)                                  These good – days

                                                                           Are so

                                                                           Hum – yum – my

                                                                           I – just – have – to – cry.

                                                                           Would – you – like – to – know – why?

SALLY:                  (laughing)            Um hmmmm.

ALEX:                    (sings)                                  Cause a dum – my

                                                                           Don’t have

                                                                           A – ny tum – my.

(GENERAL LAUGHTER AND APPLUASE)

Sally soon began to yawn, and before long she nodded off.

NORMA:              Why, I believe Sally’s dropping off to sleep. Here darling. Just lay your head in my lap. There. That’s it. Oh, you adorable little dear. Look Frank.

FRANK:                 Isn’t she sweet? I didn’t know she was so tired.

While Jackson expressed his disappointment that Sally fell asleep before he could serve pumpkin pie, the Old Timer acknowledged how she had eaten with a healthy appetite. In fact, he speculated, she might not have had such a big meal in a long time. Norma asked the Old Timer if he really believed that.

OLD TIMER:        Well I wouldn’t be surprised. Didn’t you notice how pale she is? Or maybe you just noticed her smile and her sparkling eyes. She’s been a pretty sad little girl, alright, but she’s wrapped a sunbeam about her troubled orphan heart.

NORMA:              And her sunniness . . .  her happiness . . .  it’s so contagious . . . See . . . She’s made all of us so happy. . . Old Timer … Frank … Jackson … and me. Even Alex too, I think.

It wasn’t long at all that the characters in the story finally caught up to the listening audience, who must have been collectively shouting at their radios “adopt the little girl, for pete’s sake!”

FRANK:                 She’s just like an audience that’s with you … makes you glad … makes you want to do your turn just a little better.

NORMA:              Oh … Frank … Do you suppose … Don’t you suppose that with Sally for our audience and a little home of our own for a theater we could find happiness too … the real success we’ve been searching for?

Frank was still waffling over the glitz and glitter of their names in the marquee lights on Broadway, but Norma pulled back closer to terra firma. She pointed out that fame, even if they attained it, would be fleeting. Raising little Sally as their own would be so much more rewarding. Norma reminded Frank of the modest home they had once considered in northwest Washington.

FRANK:                 It’s still Bellingham, is it, dear?

NORMA:              Yes, still Bellingham. Don’t you remember that dear little cottage we talked about so many years ago when we thought success was on its way?

FRANK:                 I remember, Norma girl. Had tulips in the front yard, didn’t it?

Just then, someone approached with a telegram for Frank. And just when it seemed Norma had sorted everything out so nicely with Frank…

(SOUND OF OPENING TELEGRAM)

FRANK:                 Why … why …

NORMA:              Well read it … read it …

FRANK:                 It’s from Lohman … our booking agent … and Norma … Norma … he says …

NORMA:              Says what?

FRANK:                 Norma! We’re booked for the big time … 40 weeks … open in January at the Palace … We’ve done it, old girl, our dream’s come true. I knew we’d get there … knew it all the time. Hurray!

NORMA:              (disappointedly)  B-b-but, Frank … aren’t we?  … (reprovingly)  Now, look, you’ve woke Sally.

Oh, Frank, ya big lummox! Just look what you’ve done. As little Sally slowly got her bearings, she realized Jackson and the Old Timer were gone. This troubled her. And so it all comes down to this:

NORMA:              They had to leave, Sally.

SALLY:                  (pouting)  Everybody goes away and leaves Sally. Are you going away and leave Sally too?

NORMA:              Oh, darling …… Frank …… What must I tell her, Frank?

FRANK:                 We-l-l-l!  It’s Broadway and the Palace or . . .

NORMA:              Bellingham and a home.

And they all lived happily. Ever after. The end. Except for Ted Pearson and his closing announcement.

ANNOUNCER:    No wonder little Sally, and Frank and Norma, and the rest, enjoyed their Thanksgiving dinner! One of the greatest pleasures of a trip west or east on the Empire Builder is the famous Great Northern meals. Chicken pie … fresh green vegetables … fish fresh from Minnesota lakes … oysters and lobsters from the blue waters of Puget Sound … beef from the Montana plains that slide past your window … And what cooks those Great Northern boys are! The things they can do for a hungry man!

Pearson let on that all this talk of delicious food had him in a tizzy, and another voice came over the air to call Pearson back to finish his task. So before he could bail from the studio and get himself an enormous Thanksgiving feast, he let everyone know who had been featured in the broadcast. Too bad we don’t have the recording of this show to reveal the identity of the actor who portrayed Jackson.

ANNOUNCER:    Awww!  I’m hungry!  I can’t talk about food that way without my mouth watering so I stutter.

VOICE:                 Well, tell ‘em about tonight’s show, then.

ANNOUNCER:    That’s an idea. Harvey Hays was again featured as the Old Timer. Don Ameche played Frank; Bernadine Flynn played Norma. Sally, the little orphan, was played by Betty White; and Jackson the porter was _____________ .  (OFF)  Now can I eat?

(SPEEDING TRAIN EFFECT UP AND OUT)

This is Ted Pearson speaking. Empire Builders comes to you from the Chicago studios of the National Broadcasting Company.

 

Can’t say as I’d like to take a trip on a train on Thanksgiving just to partake of the meal they’d serve (no offense, Amtrak, but I suspect things have changed a bit since the Great Northern operated the Empire Builder). In lieu of that, however, I do believe I will gather with family, reflect on our good fortunes, and feast on all the yummy things my wife will be cooking up. Hoping you and yours likewise have a pleasant Thanksgiving.

 

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