Tuesday, December 30, 2014

291230 - The Denny Hill Hermit




When the New York Times ran a preview on this broadcast, they labeled their piece with what might be an alternate title to this episode of Empire Builders: "Seattle, the City of Seven Hills." I do not have a continuity for this broadcast, but here is the essence of the press release issued for this date’s program, as reported in the Seattle Times of December 30, 1929:

DENNY HILL WILL GET RADIO ‘SPOT’ FOR NBC TONIGHT

Nation-Wide Audience is to Turn Attention to
Remainder of Big Bump Topic of Empire Builders
 
Seattle people have looked and talked about, and thought of Denny Hill for quite some time. Tonight a nation-wide radio audience will turn its attention to what is left of the big bump.
Dumping of Denny Hill into Puget Sound is to be the incident around which tonight’s Empire Builders transcontinental program is written. KOMO dialers are promised thrills not only by the rapid succession of events in this story but also by portrayal of the resourcefulness of modern engineering. Most of the story is laid in Seattle, and the continuity is based upon a plot written by Walter W. Dickson, local author.
Twenty-five stations of the NBC will carry the program. KOMO bills it for 7:30 o'clock. The “Old Timer,” heard weekly in Empire Builder broadcasts, will play a prominent part, as will Virginia Gardiner in the dramatization [of the] Denny Hill story. Bob MacGimsey, three-part whistler, and Andy Sannella’s Orchestra will provide the incidental music during the half hour.

Harvey Hays ("The Old Timer") and Virginia Gardiner. Author's collection


The Christian Science Monitor also weighed in with their own description of the program, written as a review and printed the following day in a radio review column they called “The Listener Speaks.”
After various excursions into other types of presentations, the Empire Builders' radiocast through the WJZ chain on Monday at 10:30 was devoted to a dramatization of a comparatively recent incident in the history of Seattle. It was this kind of entertainment which made the first series of these programs so deservedly popular and it is evident that the sponsors are attempting to continue this interest.
There is always more glamour attached to incidents in the dimmer distance -- especially in the days of explorers and venturesome settlers -- but this story of a hermit on one of the hills of Seattle whose little fortress was being menaced by advancing steam shovels was romantic and interesting enough. His devotion to a mining partner whose memory had been temporarily obscured lent a touch of genuine character to the tale.
 

Ask any native Seattleite – anyone born in the 1920’s or 1930’s – and of all the memories still accessible from their youth, they will undoubtedly recall the stories and the impact of the Denny Regrade. They may have even seen, as a youngster, some of the final events of the regrade activity.



The December 30, 1929, broadcast of Great Northern Railway’s Empire Builders was a story centered about one of early Seattle’s most ambitious and remarkable engineering projects. The natural topography of Seattle is defined largely by the effects of Vashon Glacier, which ground its way through the area roughly 14,000 years ago. In its wake, the glacier helped delineate the confines of two significant fresh water lakes (Lake Union and the vastly larger Lake Washington), with Puget Sound on the west, the Cascade Mountain foothills to the east, and numerous hills blocking in the remaining dry land. In its formative years, Seattle boosters liked to refer to the young city as the “New York of the West,” and it was also promoted as “the City of Seven Hills” (despite there being at least ten or twelve notable hilltops in the city’s environs).

The heart of downtown Seattle – the retail core – emerged in the area where it basically remains today: the sloping hill fronts that slide down to meet Elliot Bay at water’s edge. Early logging of these hills led to the moniker “Skid Road.” Although the area was blessed with a calm, deep-water port and abundant nearby timber, the shoreline rose quickly up the hills that lined much of the eastern shore of Puget Sound. Numerous regrading projects took place over the years to increase the available flatlands for development of the city.

Circa 1909 postcard view of Denny Regrade hydraulic excavation.
Among the very earliest permanent non-Native settlers of Seattle were the members of the Arthur A. Denny party, who arrived in 1851 and struggled to establish a foothold – some of them on Alki Point, the others in the vicinity of what is now the Pioneer Square area near the Seattle waterfront. In the 1850’s, the Pioneer Square site was an island.

The Denny Party also included William and Sarah Bell, who elected to claim land just north of the Pioneer Square group. This area now makes up part of the Belltown neighborhood of Seattle. To the north and east of Bell’s site was a hill that was eventually named after A.A. Denny, as was a main street laid out in the area.

In the summer of 1897, the Klondike Gold Rush transformed Seattle into a bustling center of commerce. The downtown core was strained to its limits, and it became clear that expansion to the north was needed. However, Denny Hill blocked that expansion, and needed to be leveled. The enormity and cost of such a project was just too daunting for the city at that time, so only about half of Denny Hill was leveled. This first phase, which concentrated on an area along 1st Avenue from Pine Street to Denny Way, began in 1898 and was completed on January 6, 1899.

A second phase of the regrading, which leveled an area between 2nd and 5th avenues, began in 1908 and was completed on October 31, 1911.

The last major effort in leveling Denny Hill was accomplished between February of 1929 and December, 1930. During this phase, large earth-moving shovels removed 4 million cubic yards of earth (I’d just call them “steam shovels,” but one reference says they were electrically powered).

Some of the final excavation activity to level the last of Denny Hill, September, 1929.

Most of the earth removed from the regrading of Denny Hill ended up in Elliot Bay, either to extend the waterfront into the bay, or later simply dumped into deeper water. Earth from other regrading activity in Seattle (and possible including some from Denny Hill) was used in creating Harbor Island and for filling in expansive tide flats in what is now the SoDo (south of downtown) area of Seattle - including part of today's Boeing Field Airport.

Some property owners (many of them homeowners) refused to cooperate with the regrading project. During certain phases of Seattle regrading, private land owners had to bear the financial cost of the regrading, and resisted on those grounds. As a result, there exist many photos of houses and other structures left high and dry on precarious mounds of residual hill portions. The late historian Walt Crowley (1947-2007) explained it thus:

When property owners balked at selling, engineers carved around their lots, sometimes leaving houses stranded a hundred feet in air atop "spite mounds." These man-made buttes fell by 1911, giving Seattle a vast new tabula rasa upon which to sketch its urban visions.
[HistoryLink.org Essay 1123; "Seattle Neighborhoods: Belltown-Denny Regrade -- Thumbnail History" by Walt Crowley]
 
One way or another, these property owners ultimately acquiesced. It appears that Walter Dickson’s story, incorporated into the Empire Builders broadcast of December 30, 1929, as "The Denny Hill Hermit" was based on these real-life holdouts.

A remarkable Photoshop compilation by Clayton Kauzlaric showing structures in 1914 about to fall victim to the Denny Regrade, incorporated into a modern-day image of the same intersection (6th and Marion, Seattle).

Today, the Denny Hill Regrade is largely unknown to most Millennials and others with abbreviated knowledge of Seattle history. The real estate that once made up the regrade area is now assimilated into the South Lake Union neighborhood, and includes most of what we now call the Denny Triangle and Belltown, although these are not officially recognized city demarcations.

The video below, created in 1970, provides a good 19-minute primer on the topic, suitably titled "The story of the Denny Regrade"
[Item 3271, Record Series 1204-05, Seattle Municipal Archives].




 
 

Tuesday, December 23, 2014

291223 - Christmas Eve on the Empire Builder


Imagine this scene. You’ve come to the office of a business owner for a scheduled meeting. The businessman gets up and leaves his office for several minutes. He has left you alone with a stack of money sitting on his desk. You are a newlywed man wanting to do well by your wife, who you adore. It’s just a couple of days before Christmas, and you aren’t sure you can afford anything that will suitably please her. That money is just sitting there – a whole stack of bills each worth $13,800.

It’s not the present – it’s 1929. The bills are all $1,000 denomination, worth nearly $14,000 each in 2014 dollars. Who’s gonna miss one bill from a big stack of so many?

 
The man sitting there staring at that tempting pile of loot is fictional Dave Lane of Seattle. He’s in the office of Mr. Peter MacIntyre, in Spokane. Dave is a good man. An honest man. He concludes his business with Mr. MacIntyre and returns to Seattle.

On Christmas Eve, Dave came home from work and shared some light banter with his wife Dorothy about their excitement for spending their first Christmas together as husband and wife. As the two of them shared the innocent regrets of newlyweds that they had such limited resources, Dave spoke wistfully of the big stack of thousand dollar bills he had seen in MacIntyre’s office. Just then, the doorbell rang . . .

Dorothy answered the door. It was a man named Fox, asking to speak to her husband. She invited the man in and Dave asked him his business.

FOX:             Now, Mr. Lane, I just want you to answer one to two questions.

DAVE:           What about?

FOX:             About a trip you made to Spokane a day or two ago.

DAVE:           Well – what about it?

FOX:             Went there to interview old Mr. MacIntyre, didn’t you?

DAVE:           I did – certainly.

FOX:             Spent pretty near an hour alone with him in his office, didn’t you?

DAVE:           Of course I did! See here, what’s all this about?

C’mon, Fox – it’s Christmas Eve, man! What are you bothering good ‘ol Dave about? All of this is beginning to sound mighty accusatory.

FOX:             Just a minute now, just a minute! During the course of that hour Mr. MacIntyre went out for a minute and left you alone there. That right?

DAVE:           Certainly, it’s right! Why shouldn’t it be?

FOX:             No reason at all. Now, look here, Mr. Lane, watch what you say, and don’t try to fool me. Did you or did you not see a pile of bills on Mr. MacIntyre’s desk?

DAVE:           Of course I saw them! They were thousand dollar bills. I was just telling my wife. . .

FOX:             Ah, ha! So you admit it!

Aw, Dave – you couldn’t have! We all thought you were a good man – an honest man. Says so right up there in the third paragraph. It’s just gotta be true! Doesn’t it?

FOX:             After you left that office, Lane, one of those bills was missing. You admit you had the opportunity to lift it.

DAVE:           You blinking idiot! So that’s what it is! Opportunity! I had the opportunity to stand on my head, but I didn’t do it!

FOX:             Now, young man, you just keep cool. Are you going to come quietly?

DOROTHY:      Oh, Dave – don’t let him . . .

DAVE:           Keep cool, honey. This is just a fool mistake. . . Have you got a warrant?

FOX:             Here’s the warrant, and here’s the transportation for both of us back to Spokane on the Great Northern tonight . . . Put out your hands!

Oh, phooey. Looks like this Fox character is going to absolutely ruin Christmas for Dorothy and Dave. The guy might as well be named Scrooge. But hey – on the upside, looks like they’re about to go for a ride on the Empire Builder! Woo-hoo!



As he is a good and honest man and all (you remembered that part, right?), Dave agrees to honor the warrant and accompany Fox back to Spokane, Christmas Eve or no.

DOROTHY:      And – it’s Christmas Eve! (SOBS BRIEFLY. STOPS) There – I won’t make it any harder for us. Dave – there’s one thing – if he takes you – I go too!

FOX:             Now, lady, you just set here at home, and take it easy.

DOROTHY:      Be quiet – you fool! Dave – do you hear me?

DAVE:           Yes, honey, of course I hear you. I don’t know what to say. It’s so hard for you either way, there’s not much to choose.

DOROTHY:       I’ve done the choosing! Have I time to pack a bag?

FOX:             If you don’t waste any time over it you have. We’ve got to be out of here in two shakes of a pig’s tail.

Being a work of fiction, this radio continuity could easily have the trio setting out on the Empire Builder any time of day or night, but since this show was sponsored by the Great Northern Railway, it was appropriate for the train in the story to closely match the actual scheduled departure time out of Seattle.


Departure from King Street Station in Seattle, 6pm


Arrival the next morning at Spokane, 4am


Empire Builder schedule, Great Northern Railway public timetable for December, 1929. Author’s collection
Led by Mr. Fox (the private detective), Dorothy and Dave made their way to King Street Station to board the Empire Builder. There just happened to be another character boarding the train that evening – one we’ve heard from before.

PIONEER:      Lane? Why, Dave Lane! Scatter my chipmunks – where did you turn up from? And Dorothy too! This is a treat.

DAVE:           Well, old man – I’m afraid you won’t think so . . .

DOROTHY:      Oh, I’m so glad – so very glad you’re here! I know you’ll keep Dave safe.

PIONEER:      Keep Dave safe? Well. I just reckon we will! What seems to be the trouble? Who’s this gentleman with you?

DOROTHY:      Oh, he’s not a gentleman! He’s a detective! I mean . . . Oh, well – his name is Fox.

The Old Timer saw Dave in handcuffs and asked what was going on. Dave and Dorothy explained how Fox was taking Dave back to Spokane to face the charges against him. The Old Timer would have none of it.

PIONEER:      Well, I can think of at least two reasons why you couldn’t have done it.

FOX:             Is that so?

DOROTHY:      Oh, what are they?

PIONEER:      Well, the first is that, knowing old Pete MacIntyre the way I do, I’m dratted sure no one ever got a thousand dollars away from him without leaving two thousand behind.

FOX:             Think you’re smart, don’t you, mister?

PIONEER:      And the second reason is that, knowing you as I do, Dave, I know you couldn’t steal anything from anybody!

Fox insisted he had evidence of Lane’s guilt, and made it clear he wasn’t going to back down. The Old Timer managed to cajole Fox into lightening up a bit.

PIONEER:      You may have evidence, but you haven’t got judgment. They may know crime, where you come from, but where I live, they know people! . . . Now I tell you what. You just take those fool handcuffs off this boy, and I’ll help you see to it that he doesn’t get away. Then we can all three of us go back into the observation car and stretch our legs. Come on now, sheriff, what do you say?

FOX:             Well, I dunno. Ain’t anybody goin’ to put anything over on me!

PIONEER:      It would take a mighty smart man to do that, now I’m tellin’ you. Pshaw, man, he’s safe enough.

FOX:             Cuss it, I’ll do it! If I don’t there’ll just be more of this talk, talk, talk! Like to talk the hind leg off a mule, this crowd is! Put out your hands, Lane.

DAVE:           Whew! That’s a relief.

The little group moved into the observation car and settled in. In short order, several members of the onboard train crew joined them there and initiated a small Christmas celebration. One was dressed like Santa and handed out some gifts. Then a quartette launched in to several traditional Christmas carols, “after each of which is laughter and applause from the passengers,” according to the continuity. At this point the little party drew to a close, and soon the radio was turned on.

 
PIONEER:      There now. How’d you like that?

DOROTHY:      I liked it, but – but I wish we were home! It’s Christmas Eve, and we’re . . .

FOX:             On the way to jail! That’s where you are!

DAVE:           Just one more peep out of you, and you can take me for manslaughter instead of theft!

PIONEER:      Easy, Dave, easy. Here! Let’s turn on the radio, and distract our minds a little. 

(Orchestra in slowly with MacGimsey)

PIONEER:      Why, this is that whistlin’ feller I’ve heard tell about so often. Let’s listen to him.

(Orchestra and MacGimsey up full)

DAVE:           By George, he is good! And so is that orchestra.


What’s this? They’re listening to the Empire Builders radio show, while riding on the Empire Builder train! I hope they don’t call the Old Timer to the microphone on that live broadcast out of New York . . .

ANNOUNCER:          You have been listening to Bob MacGimsey, an exclusive feature of Empire Builder programs; and to Andy Sannella’s orchestra. We will now pause for an important local announcement from Spokane.

FOX:             I wonder what this is. Police news, likely.

ANNOUNCER:          The Spokesman-Review has been asked to broadcast the fact that Mr. David Lane, now in custody on the Empire Builder en route to Spokane, has been relieved from all charges, and will be set free upon his arrival in Spokane. The Spokane police wish it understood that Mr. Lane is guiltless of any wrong doing. We will now continue our program.

With a short musical bridge, our protagonists came back to the microphone to wrap things up:

DOROTHY:      Dave – Dave – I knew it would be all right!

DAVE:           My dear – we’re out of the night mare.

FOX:             Well, now, Mr. Lane, I’m right pleased, so I am! Heh, heh! I had an idea all along you never took that bill. Heh, heh! Fox by name, and fox by nature. That’s me.

DOROTHY:      And we’ll be home – for Christmas – after all!

PIONEER:      Why, of course you will, bless you both. Well, I’ve got to get along to bed now, but before I go I want to wish you folks a . . .

D & D:                        Merry Christmas!

PIONEER:      Yes – that’s it – a Merry Christmas! Well, good night, folks . . . Goodnight!  (Music up and fade for announcement)

ANNOUNCER:          You have been listening to Empire Builders, a program sponsored by the Great Northern Railway. Next week at the same hour you will be presented with another romance of the west. Empire Builders comes to you from the New York Studios of the National Broadcasting Company.



 

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

291216 - The Coming of the White Man




Eighty-five years ago today, the Great Northern Railway went on the air with another segment of Empire Builders. This time, the story was “The Coming of the White Man.” The tale was written by a man named Ben Hur Lampman.

Author Ben Hur Lampman
Photo accessed at findagrave.com; posted by contributor Ron Moody.


Without a continuity to reference for this broadcast, the facts of the performance are once again very limited. I do have a press release, and a couple of published news blurbs developed from the press releases that all say pretty much the same thing.

The press release issued by Harold M. Sims of the Great Northern Railway contained the following description of the show:
 
FOR RELEASE ANYTIME                   From Harold M. Sims,
AFTER DECEMBER 9, 1929.               Executive Assistant,
                                                                 Great Northern Railway,
                                                                 St. Paul, Minnesota.
 
A fantasy based on the Coming of the White Man with a young and an old Indian chief as the central characters will be one of the high lights of the Empire Builders’ program for Monday night.
The locale of the modern western romance of which the fantasy is a part will be Portland, Ore., the city of roses. The story was written for Empire Builders by Ben Hur Lampman. The cast includes Harvey Hays as “The Old Timer” and Virginia Gardiner.
Bob MacGimsey, the phenomenal three-part harmony whistler who appears exclusively in Great Northern programs, will be featured in Indian songs with Andy Sannella and his recording orchestra.
 
This program will be broadcast, from 10:30 to 11 o’clock Eastern Time; 9:30 to 10:00  Central Standard Time; 8:30 to 9:00 Mountain Standard Time; and 7:30 to 8:00 Pacific Coast Time, over the following stations: WBZA, Boston; KYW, Chicago; WLW, Cincinnati; WBAP, Dallas-Fort Worth; KOA, Denver; WJR, Detroit; WEBC, Duluth–Superior; KPRC, Houston; WREN, Kansas City (Lawrence); KFI, Los Angeles; WJZ, New York; WKY, Oklahoma City; KDKA, Pittsburgh; KGW, Portland; WHAM, Rochester; KWK, St. Louis; KSTP, St. Paul-Minneapolis; KSL, Salt Lake City; WOAI, San Antonio; KGO, San Francisco; KOMO, Seattle; KHQ, Spokane; WBZ, Springfield; KVOO, Tulsa.

Ben Hur Lampman (1886–1954) was a writer and journalist who spent the majority of his life in Portland, Oregon. Born in Wisconsin and raised in the small town of Neche, North Dakota, Lampman followed in his father’s footsteps and entered the newspaper business as a young man. He married and came out west in 1912 to the town of Gold Hill, Oregon (just outside Medford) and went to work at the local paper. Lampman’s career advanced in 1916 when he hired on with the major newspaper of the state, the Oregonian, in the city of Portland. By 1921, Lampman had become an editor of the paper’s editorial section. Over the course of his lifetime, Ben Hur Lampman had many essays published in such magazines as Atlantic Monthly and the Saturday Evening Post. He also had at least a couple of books published, and in 1951 was named Oregon’s Poet Laureate. After he died in 1954, a state park bearing his name was established near Gold Hill.

With little more to go on than the press release for this broadcast, I think I’ve discovered something that may have inspired Lampman as he penned the story for this broadcast. As a prominent resident of the city of Portland, Oregon, Lampman must have been thoroughly familiar with the city’s landmark public space, Washington Park. First named simply “City Park” when established with just 40 acres in the 1870s, Washington Park had swelled to about 200 acres by the 1920s (and today covers over 400 acres). There are a few sculptures in Washington Park, one of which is called “Coming of the White Man.” This sculpture, designed by artist Herman McNeil (1866-1947), was commissioned by the family of a prominent man of the Pacific Northwest, David P. Thompson. Among many other accomplishments in his illustrious 67 years of life, Thompson served as Mayor of the City of Portland. He passed away in 1901 – the sculpture of “Coming of the White Man” was dedicated in Washington Park in 1904.

Vintage postcard view of Herman McNeil's statue, "Coming of the White Man"
McNeil’s sculpture featured two Native American men, one of whom represented Chief Multnomah. Since Ben Hur Lampman’s story was said to feature two Indian men (one older, and one young), I suspect it was this statue that inspired Lampman in writing his story. Historian Don Colburn has written about Lampman that he was:
. . . a master of the short verbal sketch, a mini-essay inspired by ordinary turns of everyday life. He could find insight — leavened by wry humor and playful language — in the most mundane happenstance. One column ruminated on how urban bystanders act when a pedestrian’s hat blows off in a gust of wind. Others dealt with the dilemma of the ‘returned vacationist,’ Armistice Day, a bootlegger’s dead dog, a garden spider, pipe smoking, wild ducks. Many reflected on Oregon’s natural landscape.

I can envision Lampman taking a stroll in Washington Park and then sitting on a bench near the statue of “Coming of the White Man” to write his fictional story.

Only about a month after this broadcast of Empire Builders, another story by Lampman was used. It was called “Steelhead Fishing” and again featured Oregon locales. It might be mere coincidence, but many years later Lampman published a book titled “The Coming of the Pond Fishes.”

Speaking of coincidences, there seems to be more than just a circumstantial association between some of the principals of the Empire Builders radio series. In this case, I refer to some of the authors of Empire Builders continuities. At a minimum, I know that Harold Sims, Ben Hur Lampman, and Dan Markell all had shared experiences in the news trade in Portland, Oregon.

Sims was born in Minnesota, but lived for a few years in Pocatello, Idaho. Sims was a partner in the creation of the Pocatello News in 1919. He remained in the news business there and in another southern Idaho locale, Twin Falls, until about 1920. After a messy divorce sometime in the early 1920s, Sims relocated to Portland, Oregon, and went to work for the Oregonian newspaper there, beginning in 1924. By this time, Ben Hur Lampman was well established with the Oregonian, and it’s possible that Sims worked with him, or even reported to him – but that’s speculation. From the research I’ve done, it appears Sims stayed on the payroll of the Oregonian until November, 1927, at which time he joined the Great Northern Railway.

Another man who authored some stories for Empire Builders was Dan Markell. He, too, worked in the newspaper business in Portland, Oregon. He wrote for the Portland Telegraph.

To what degree these three men knew each other prior to crossing paths in their work for the GN’s Empire Builders radio series, I cannot say. But my coincidence meter is beginning to red-line.
 
 


Postscript

For several years now, my mom has been dealing with severe hearing loss. She approached an organization called Canine Companions for Independence, and they provided her with a wonderful black lab named Hassie. This very loving and giving animal was my mom's constant shadow, always alerting her to things like phone calls, doorbells, and even tea kettles steaming on the stove. She was, much like any dog who enters and lingers in our lives, very much a part of the family. Just two days ago, as I was composing this week's blog entry, I learned that Hassie had passed away very suddenly. She will be cremated, and my parents will bury her ashes in their rose garden, with a statue of St. Francis of Assisi looking over her remains.


I write all this in large part to segue into an essay by the author of this Empire Builders broadcast, Ben Hur Lampman. In some circles, it is considered his most beloved piece of writing. In 1925, Lampman came across a question posed by a reader of the Ontario (Oregon) Argus, but chose to respond in an editorial in his own paper, the Oregonian.


Where To Bury A Dog
by Ben Hur Lampman

There are various places within which a dog may be buried. We are thinking now of a setter, whose coat was flame in the sunshine, and who, so far as we are aware, never entertained a mean or an unworthy thought. This setter is buried beneath a cherry tree, under four feet of garden loam, and at its proper season the cherry strews petals on the green lawn of his grave. Beneath a cherry tree, or an apple, or any flowering shrub of the garden, is an excellent place to bury a good dog. Beneath such trees, such shrubs, he slept in the drowsy summer, or gnawed at a flavorous bone, or lifted head to challenge some strange intruder. These are good places, in life or in death. Yet it is a small matter, and it touches sentiment more than anything else.

For if the dog be well remembered, if sometimes he leaps through your dreams actual as in life, eyes kindling, questing, asking, laughing, begging, it matters not at all where that dog sleeps at long and at last. On a hill where the wind is unrebuked and the trees are roaring, or beside a stream he knew in puppyhood, or somewhere in the flatness of a pasture land, where most exhilarating cattle graze. It is all one to the dog, and all one to you, and nothing is gained, and nothing lost -- if memory lives. But there is one best place to bury a dog. One place that is best of all.

If you bury him in this spot, the secret of which you must already have, he will come to you when you call -- come to you over the grim, dim frontiers of death, and down the well-remembered path, and to your side again. And though you call a dozen living dogs to heel they should not growl at him, nor resent his coming, for he is yours and he belongs there.

People may scoff at you, who see no lightest blade of grass bent by his footfall, who hear no whimper pitched too fine for mere audition, people who may never really have had a dog. Smile at them then, for you shall know something that is hidden from them, and which is well worth the knowing.

The one best place to bury a good dog is in the heart of his master.


 

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

291209 - The Fast Mail




 
The Empire Builders broadcast of December 9, 1929, featured one of the Great Northern Railway’s most notable trains – the “Fast Mail.” This train carried mail under contract to the United States Postal Service. It was such a high priority train that it was delayed for no other train on the system. In an article about another legendary and high-priority train of the GN, the Silk Train, author Gerald Iseminger wrote:

In fact, the GN's No. 27, the fast mail running between St. Paul and Seattle, took precedence over all trains. On those infrequent occasions when a misguided dispatcher ordered No. 27 onto a siding to allow a silk train to pass, Vice-President Jenks demanded an explanation and issued a reprimand. Jenks insisted that "nothing on the railroad" take precedence over No. 27.

[Minnesota History, MNHS, Spring 1994. Pgs. 16-31]

The press release for this broadcast explained the basis of the radio story:

The Great Northern’s Fast Mail, with its cargo of hopes and fears, happiness and sorrow, tragedy and romance, speeds through the Empire Builder’s program of December 9th to unite two lovers separated by the width of the continent.

It is a romance of service. Through summer’s storm and wintry blizzard plunges the Fast Mail running on the fastest schedule of any long distance train and overcoming all obstacles so that the mail gets through on time.

In the story a special delivery letter reunites two lovers who reside in Seattle and New York respectively. Time and distance have almost broken this romance when a fortunate meeting and the subsequent mailing of the all-important letter brings happiness to both.

Bob MacGimsey, the harmony whistler, and Andy Sannella’s orchestra have important parts in this program and the adaptation of mail train noises to radio broadcasting will provide an unusual feature.

The story is a romantic tragedy. If Joe were a gardener, his plants would all be withered and the flower beds overrun by weeds. You see, Joe loves Alice. Alice loves Joe. They both lived in New York, but Joe decided to head out to Seattle for a business opportunity. It was Joe’s intent to establish himself in his line of business (whatever that might be – the story does not specify) and then presumably send for Alice to come out to Seattle and be his bride.

Apparently, Joe got so caught up in making his pile of riches that he neglected poor Alice – even failing to write to her consistently enough. In the face of this waning attention from Joe, Alice seems to have watched the “ties that bind” become frayed and weakened.

So it was that Joe came back to New York to fetch Alice, but learned that he was too late. Another man by the name of Beverly (uncommon as a man’s name now, but not so uncommon then) entered Alice’s life, and they became engaged. This sad twist for Joe played out on the air:

(Sentimental Music)

JOE:       Well, goodbye, Alice.

ALICE:   Goodbye, Joe … I – I’m sorry.

JOE:       Oh, don’t be sorry. Everything has to come to an end sometime. And things can’t always have a happy ending.

ALICE:   It’s not that I don’t – care – you know that, Joe. Outside of Bev, I like you better than anyone else in the world. But you’ve been away for years, and – I didn’t know.

JOE:       I thought you knew. I thought you understood when I first went out to Seattle – why I went. I didn’t have much money then, and without money I didn’t feel that – that I could ever have you. That was everything to me.

ALICE:   It was everything to me, Joe – until you chose to pack up and go west. And then the letters didn’t come so often …

JOE:       I was impatient. And I accomplished more than I ever could have done if – if I hadn’t had a goal. A lot of times I was simply too busy to write. Things were beginning to break my way. I was making money. Not because I was so crazy about money. I was building a future for us, – and oh, well, there’s no use talking about it now. A man shouldn’t expect everything.

ALICE:   Well I suppose if I was instrumental in your getting so outlandishly rich, then I’ve served some purpose!

JOE:       Rich? Yes, I suppose I am – but it isn’t much fun. … When … uh … when is the wedding?

ALICE:   The first of next month. Beverly said he wanted it on the first so it would be easier for him to remember the anniversaries.

JOE:       (laughing)  He’s a great chap! As long as I’m not in the running any more, I don’t know anyone I’d rather see you marry than Beverly Latham.

After his aw-shucks-I-guess-that-didn’t-work-out exchange with the woman he loved, Joe hopped the next train west and returned to Seattle. It was there that Joe bumped into the Old Timer, and they got to chatting about Joe’s biplane. Joe then explained that he had recently been in New York, where he met up with Alice (whose father the Old Timer used to know). Joe explained that Alice was soon to wed Mr. Beverly Latham. Suddenly, Joe thought of a favor that he wanted to ask of the Old Timer.

JOE:       You see – Alice and I were kids together, and I’ve always wanted to sort of keep an eye on her – see that she gets along all right, you know. Her parents are dead, and I was thinking – if anything ever happens to me – an accident, or anything like that – would you mind keeping in touch with her – see that she’s taken care of – you know what I mean.

Foreshadowing being what it is in a 30-minute radio drama, I hope you’re not becoming too attached to the character of Joe. But at such a potentially morose point in the story as this, it’s time for a “squirrel moment” to distract us (and draw our attention to some renewed, subtle advertising to entice easterners to visit Seattle).

As Joe and the Old Timer continued their conversation, Joe perked up at the sound of music. The Old Timer noted that it was coming from the orchestra playing out on the steamer President McKinley, one of the fast ships of the Admiral-Oriental Line.
 
The "President McKinley" of the Admiral-Oriental Line. From the collection of Björn Larsson [http://www.timetableimages.com/maritime/index.htm]
 
PIONEER:            Why, that’s comin’ from the boat out there in Puget Sound. See? There’s th’ President McKinley nosin’ ‘er way into the docks, with th’ ship’s orchestra tootin’ away. Goes nice with that sunset, don’t it?

JOE:                      Great!

PIONEER:            Pretty as a picture, this view here. A man doesn’t know what a real sunset is till he comes out to Seattle and sees one on the Pacific.

JOE:                      Say, if a fellow could just take this plane and fly right into that sunset – you know – just fly west and keep going.

Uh-oh. I’m not liking the sound of that. There’s not much west of Seattle, after overflying the Olympic Peninsula on an airplane’s tank of gas, but the Pacific Ocean. And lots of it.

Admiring the sunset over Puget Sound must have helped the Old Timer work up an appetite. He suggested to Joe that they take in dinner at the Olympic Hotel. Joe agreed, but asked the Old Timer to go on ahead, telling him he’d catch up in a few minutes. Joe needed to chat with his airplane mechanic for a few minutes.
 
 
Joe got the ear of his mechanic, Tom, and explained some modifications he needed for a flight he would be making in a few days:

JOE:       (In Subdued voice) Listen, Tom. I’m taking off on a big jaunt Friday morning, and I want you to get my ship in shape for a long hop. I want to carry a lot of extra gas and oil – and yes, some grub too, I suppose. You’ll have to put on a couple of wing tanks, and say – put a couple of emergency tanks in back of the pit, too.

TOM:     (Up) Say, where you gonna fly to – the moon?

JOE:       Oh, maybe the moon, maybe the sun. Anyway, keep mum about it, will you? I’m not sure just where I’m going, and I don’t want to be bothered with a lot of questions from everybody.

Joe! Joe! Joe!  . . . what in the world are you thinking . . . ?

Meanwhile, back in New York, it’s just four days before the blessed event – a wedding between Alice and Bev, her fiancé. Latham came by to see her and bring her a nice bouquet of flowers, but he noticed a disconcerted look on Alice’s face. When pressed about it, Alice confessed her lingering feelings for Joe, whom she had dismissed with no hope of rekindling their romance.

LATHAM:             Alice! Surely you can’t mean it! Four days before our wedding –

ALICE:                  I know, Bev. That’s why I’m telling you all this before it’s too late. I told Joe how things were – I sent him away. Oh, I feel so wretched about it all!

LATHAM:             Do you mean, Alice, that you – don’t want the wedding?

ALICE:                  Oh, can’t we postpone it, or something? You’ve always been a good friend to me, Bev. But it wouldn’t be fair to you if I married you, feeling as I do.

LATHAM:             I understand. I – I’m glad you found it out in time. What do you want me to do?

The fickle Miss Alice fell back to past practice and dismissed Latham, too. “Stick with what you’re good at,” I guess.

ALICE:                  Oh, can you ever forgive me? It’s not very sporting of me, I know –

LATHAM:             No, no, Alice. It’s quite all right. It’s the only thing to do – now.

ALICE:                  It’s decent of you, Bev – to take it this way.

It occurs to me that Latham’s name might be misspelled. Seems like it should be “Milquetoast.”

LATHAM:             Oh, no. It was all too good to be true anyhow. But now, what about you – and Joe?

ALICE:                  I don’t know. I think I’ll write him a letter – today – and tell him how things stand.

Gosh, if only they all had smartphones, with unlimited texting. Except, of course, they didn’t. What they did have in 1929 was the Great Northern Railway’s “Fast Mail” train.

Pulled by a mountain-class P-2, Train Number 27, the westbound Fast Mail, departed St. Paul after taking on all the mail transferred from the east, and then steamed out for the coast. The scheduled arrival time in Seattle, two days later, was 6:15 a.m. For many decades, the U.S. Postal Service relied on the nation’s railroads to deliver a tremendous quantity of mail. One of the advantages to moving mail this way was that the mail didn’t have to be fully sorted before it was delivered to the railroad – most of the mail was sorted on specially-modified baggage cars while the train was traveling across the country.

In our story, Alice’s letter to Joe was put on the Fast Mail, and even though they left St. Paul behind schedule, they did all in their power to make up time. A postal service employee named Mr. Curtiss rode the Fast Mail, and requested to join the engineer and fireman up in the locomotive cab. Curtiss got to shooting the breeze with the engineer, which of course gave the listening audience a brief primer on the nature of mail trains.

CURTISS:             How long you been running the fast mail, Mr. MacQuire?

ENGINEER:          Goin’ on seventeen years now.

CURTISS:             Seventeen years! I’d of thought you’d of had one of those crack passenger trains like the Empire Builder or the Oriental Limited before now.

ENGINEER:          Me! Pshaw! Say, I wouldn’t trade my old string of mail cars back there for all the Pullmans in the world.

CURTISS:             I can’t understand that. It seems to me there’d be a lot more thrill – and what you might call romance – with a train load of people behind your engine – rather than just mail sacks.

ENGINEER:          Now that’s just where you’re foolin’ yourself, Mr. Curtiss. There’s more romance riding behind me every day. Hey, Andy, how’s the board?

FIREMAN:            Green, Mac.

ENGINEER:          As I was saying, there’s more romance in that string of mail cars every day … more than … Why, lots’a times folks get these letters just in the nick of time – letters that carry money to someone that needs it – letters from sons and daughters to the folks at home – letters that keep lovers from gettin’ lonesome – Christmas things for the kids. There’s real romance for you – and a lot of happiness – riding in those twelve mail cars – and most of it depending on us a gettin’ it through on time. ‘Course, back there there’s some disappointments too …

Well, Friday morning arrived, and the Old Timer stopped by Joe’s hotel to pay him a visit. He learned that Joe had already departed, having taken a taxi out to the airfield. The Old Timer quickly asked for another taxi to be summoned, and the doorman asked him to take a special delivery letter to Joe which had just arrived minutes before.

Just as Joe started up his biplane and was preparing to take off, the Old Timer came puffing up and stopped him.

PIONEER:            (Off) Hey, Joe! Joe! Wait a minute!

JOE:                      Hel-lo! Well, where’d you come from, Old Timer?

PIONEER:            Say, you son-of-a-gun, where you headin’ for in that flyin’ machine?

JOE:                      Oh, nowhere at all. … just  - - - nowhere.

PIONEER:            Well, here’s a letter came for you. I picked it up at your hotel and brought it along.

JOE:                      Oh lord! Business to the last!

PIONEER:            This don’t look like business to me. It’s from th’ St. Regis Hotel in New York, an’ it looks like a woman’s handwritin’.

JOE:                      What’s that? Let’s see it!

PIONEER:            (Chuckling) I kinda thought you’d read that letter.

JOE:                      Old Timer, you don’t know how grateful I am for bringing me this letter. … Well, I’m off now! Goodbye, old man! Goodbye, everybody!

PIONEER:            Hold on, here! You haven’t said where you was goin’.

JOE:                      Tomorrow night you can reach me at the Lowry, St. Paul. Sunday, at the St. Regis, New York!

Happy day. In the end, true love won out again, thanks in no small part to the Great Northern Railway’s speedy and dependable Fast Mail.

Unless, of course, Alice spent those days with Joe and the letter in transit falling in love with the butcher or something.

Sigh.

Good luck, Joe – you might need it.



POSTSCRIPT:

Radio station KDKA in Pittsburgh was one of the stations on which Empire Builders aired. Here is the news blurb that appeared in the Pittsburgh Press the day before the broadcast. I assume this represents the content of an NBC press release, as the one quoted above does not contain any of the copy shown here, but does indicate it was issued by Harold M. Sims of the Great Northern Railway.


Pittsburgh Press, December 8, 1929