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(from "Radio and Television the Hard Way" by Ray C. Smucker ©1971 by Ray C. Smucker.)

During the years I had been with Horace Heidt, there had been periods when we were on the West Coast when I had had a great deal of spare time on my hands. I would use these extra periods by joining a writing team to pick up some extra dollars writing gags for two of the then quite popular shows on the networks. Since I was the fourth, or "junior" writer of htis team, sometimes my stuff was accepted, and sometimes it wasn't. If it wasn't accepted, I didn't get paid for my efforts. But quite often, when my material was not accepted, I would tune in the show a few weeks later only to hear my gag, slightly switched around, being used. I'm sure there are a lot of writers who might be reading this who have had the same experience.

At any rate, all of these things made me more and more determined to get out of the talent end of the business and behind a desk as an executive. Other than the Heidt show and my feeble attempts at gagwriting, I had never had any experience with so-called big time radio -- those really big network shows that emanate from Hollywood or New York. And especially I had never had any production experience with such shows. My radio was to be confined to that little KYUM station in Yuma, Arizona.

I'm sure you're well aware by this time that radio was my life. I loved every minute I was in it, and still do, even though television has come along in the meantime. I can sit and reminisce about radio at the drop of a hat and I loved every minute of it. So whenever I catch a "pigeon" who's been in radio, I'm ready to collar him and start exchanging experiences.

And so it happened that a couple of years ago I met a man named Joe Parker who had moved to Phoenix (Arizona) for his health. Joe was a real fountain of experience in the big-time radio, having been a producer and director at NBC in Hollywood in the thirties and forties. His list of credits included some of the biggest shows to come out of Hollywood: "Amos 'n' Andy;" "Fibber McGee and Molly:" "The Rudy Vallee Show;" "The Chase and Sanborn Hour;" and many others. We became fast friends, and whenever possible, we'd get together at my home or have lunch, and invariably the conversation would turn to radio and its fascination for both of us. He would pump me about some of my experiences and then I'd turn the tables on him and do a little pumping of my own.

One evening we were having dinner, and knowing Joe had produced "Amos 'n' Andy" for some three years, I asked him what they were like to work with. He told me this story.

"With few and rare exceptions, they were the finest and most dedicated people in the world. But I have to say that Freeman Gosden [Amos] and Charlie Correll [Andy] were two of the finest people I've ever come in contact with. We became great friends, and a wonderful rapport grew between us. But to give you a little background, they work in a most unusual manner. First of all, when they changed over from 'Sam 'n' Henry' to 'Amos 'n' Andy,' one of the conditions of the contract laid down by Pepsodent, their new sponsor, was that no one but Bill Hay was ever to announce their show. It was written into the contract. No one was ever allowed in the studio during a broadcast except myself, Bill Hay and Joe Gallichio, with his four string musicians, who played the theme, 'The Perfect Song.' Of course, in addition, we had to have the studio control room engineer, but that was it.

"It was not until several years later that they introduced a young actress as 'Miz Blue' to play Andy's secretary. These were the days before electrical transcriptions [ET's] or tape, so on account of the three hour time difference, it was necessary to do two live shows a day: one at four o'clock California time to hit the East Coast at seven o'clock, then a repeat at seven o'clock for our West Coast audience. Their working habits were also unusual. No one, including myself, ever saw the script until they arrived at the studio each day. They were always just one day ahead on their writing. They would meet in their office in Beverly Hills each morning and write the script for the following day.

"The first crisis that hit the show happened during the early show on a Monday afternoon. About five minutes before we were to go on the air, Bill Hay was suddenly stricken with a seizure and passed out on the studio floor. There was nothing we could do but get him out into the hall and have the operator call for a doctor. By then it was about one minute before air time. Freeman turned to me and said, 'It's up to you!' Naturally I was panicked, but there wasn't enough time to do anything else: I went on as Bill's replacement for three days until he was well enough to return to the show. I'm still proud to hold the distinction of having been the only person other than Bill Hay to announce 'Amos 'n' Andy.'

"But the really heart-rendering story with Freeman and Charlie happened about a year later. It still remains in my memory as one of the most dramatic, and at the same time courageous, events that ever happened to me in radio.

"Charlie Correll had always wanted a child. It was the most important thing in his life, and he had divorced two wives who had refused to bear him a child. Then he met a lovely young lady, and they fell in love and were married. About two months later, Charlie came skipping into the studio, grinning from ear to ear, with the momentous announcement that his bride was pregnant. He was ecstatic and was already laying plans for a new nursery wing on his home, a play yard, and just about everything one could think of that a child could possibly have or use!

"For the next seven months or so, we got a daily report. His wife was doing just great and the doctor constantly assured Charlie that everything was A-Okay! The nursery was built and everything that a child could hope for was provided. The time was drawing near, and Charlie got more and more nervous as the days got closer. Finally it arrived! At five in the morning the pains started and by eight o'clock they were on their way to the hospital. Charlie was a nervous wreck as he paced the floor of the fathers' room, and waiting for the big announcement. By this time it was getting close to air time for our eastern (time zone) broadcast. The doctor assured Charlie that nothing would happen for a few more hours, and that he should go on to the studio and do the show.

"Very reluctantly, he agreed; but when he arrived at the studio, he took me aside and exacted a promise from me. If the doctor called from the hospital during the show, I was to let him know immediately. I made my promise and we went on the air, with Charlie keeping one eye on the script and the other eye on me in the control room. It couldn't have been more than a minute before they were to finish the episode that the phone rang. It was the doctor calling. All he said was, 'Have Mr. Correll come right to the hospital.' By this time the boys had finished the episode and I motioned Charlie into the control room. When I told him what the doctor had said, he was halfway out the door. But Freeman, knowing the condition Charlie was in, insisted that both he and I drive Charlie to the hospital. Charlie agreed and we took off.

"When we arrived, the doctor took Charlie aside, spoke to him for a few minutes, then ushered him into his wife's room. The doctor emerged from the room and briskly walked down the hall, leaving both Freeman and myself wondering whether it was a boy or a girl, or twins, or what. After a few minutes had passed, Charlie came out of the room, tears streaming down his face and almost in a state of collapse. It was then that we learned the baby had been still-born. Both Freeman and I tried to console him, but what can you say in a situation such as that?

"We drove Charlie home after the doctor had given him a sedative. Not a word was spoken between the three of us during the long drive to Beverly Hills. I'll never forget the empty feeling of that house as we walked in: a beautiful nursery, toys, a practical nurse, all waiting for a baby who would never see them. Freeman fixed Charlie a strong drink and he drank it in silence. Only then did he really break down. 'Why?' he said. 'Babies are born in shoe boxes, barrels, shacks, and huts, and live to be healthy and strong! I could have given my child everything in the world and now this!' What was there to say?

"We finally succeded in getting Charle to lie down, and Freeman and I left. We drove in absolute silence to the Brown Derby to have a bite to eat. We sat down and ordered, both picking at our food with no appetite. There was still no conversation between us. It was only a block to NBC from the Brown Derby, so we walked in silence to the studio. In the back of my mind I was wondering how Freeman would handle the show. He walked in and sat down at the table, reached in his pocket, pulled out the script, smoothed it out, and sat waiting for air time which was only a few minutes away.

"Now comes the most dramatic and heart-breaking event I have ever experienced. When the show went on the air, Freeman, who was a master of dialects, transposed every line that Charlie had in the scirpt and gave it to another character. Then, when the very end of the episode was coming up, the 'Kingfish' said, 'Brother Amos, where's Andy tonight?' And in that plaintive little voice that was the hallmark of Amos, Freeman replied, 'Well, Kingfish, you see, Andy had a little visitor arrive today, and he was going to stay a long time, but something happened and he had to go away, and Andy isn't feeling very good tonight.'

"With that, Freeman folded his script, stuck it in his pocket, and while Bill Hay was still reading the closing commercial, slowly walked out of the studio. I can tell you that ther was not a single dry eye in the studio that night. It was all Bill could do to get through the closing commercial. The strings seemed to sound mournful as they played the theme, and I stood in the control room unabashed with tears streaming down my face. It was one of the greatest displays of 'the show must go on' that I'll ever hope to be associated with. Fortunately, Charlie and his wife didn't give up. Later they had four children."