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Hello... I Must be Going
BY CHUCK SCHADEN
In 1959, after being released from the Army, I became a
full-time member of the staff of North West Federal Savings in Chicago.
Shortly after I began, someone from the personnel department
gave me information about the company’s retirement program, my "official"
retirement date was determined and I was told how soon the company and I would
start contributing to my pension.
My official retirement date was June 29, 1999 -- my 65th
birthday.
1999! Do you know how far away that date was, especially from
1959? Forty years! Retirement was not on my mind in those days.
Time marches on.
In 1964 I left the S&L and became editor of a group of
community newspapers on Chicago’s Northwest Side. A few years later, in 1970, I
began hosting a radio program called Those Were The Days on WLTD, a small
station in Evanston, Illinois.
In 1975 TWTD moved to WNIB in Chicago and in 1977 I
was invited to rejoin the staff of North West Federal. I did, continuing with
the radio program while a part of North West’s marketing department.
In 1982, during a time of many mergers and consolidations in
the S&L industry, I decided to leave NWF and concentrate on my broadcast career.
In 2001 WNIB was sold and Those Were The Days moved to
WDCB, the public radio station at College of DuPage.
Did you notice how June 29, 1999 came and went during this
time?
How did this happen?
All of a sudden, it seemed, I turned around and hit my
"official" retirement date! I wasn’t ready for retirement, although I did try to
cut back a bit on some of my broadcast and related activities, seeking some
"personal" time after all the years.
But Those Were The Days continued without missing a
beat.
Recently, I turned around again and found myself staring at
June 29, 2009 -- ten years after my "official" retirement date. That date is
coming up quickly now, and I will have completed 39 years of broadcasting and
have marked more than 2,000 Saturday programs when it gets here. And I will be
celebrating my 75th birthday.
It’s now time to retire.
Really.
It’s time for my wife Ellen and me to take the time we’ve
actually been seeking for a number of years. A time when we have no other
obligations except to ourselves and our family.
So my new "official" retirement date is the end of June, 2009
and my last Those Were The Days program will be Saturday, June 27. WDCB
is hosting my retirement party and you’re invited to tune in or drop in during
the show.
I’m happy and proud to say that Those Were
The Days will continue.
Beginning July 4, the four-hour Saturday show on WDCB will be
hosted by Steve Darnall, who has been editor and publisher of Nostalgia
Digest Magazine for the past four years.
Steve is a talented man with a radio background who grew up
listening to our broadcasts of old-time radio. (He interviewed me for a high
school radio station in 1978!) He will join Ken Alexander and our regulars to
bring you all the great vintage programs you’re used to hearing, plus the usual
information and features every week.
Special thanks to WDCB for their willingness to continue
carrying the program for the thousands and thousands of listeners out there in
Radioland.
And thanks to you for giving me a wonderful career in radio.
I have enjoyed every minute of it and I will miss being with
you on Saturdays, but you can be sure I’ll be tuning in.
I’ve said this many times, but never before does it mean as
much as it does now:
Thanks for listening.
* * *
Chuck
Schaden signing off WDCB-FM
(90.9),
but ‘Those Were the Days’ will
continue
HOMAGE
TO BENNY | Host of nostalgic
radio
broadcasts signing off after 39
years
LEWIS
LAZARE
Media & Marketing columnist
llazare@suntimes.com
After a hugely productive
and heavily nostalgia-laden 39
years in broadcasting, Chuck
Schaden will sign off for the
last time as host of his
long-running radio show "Those
Were the Days" on June 27,
though the show itself will live
on.
Schaden's final broadcast
on College of DuPage-owned WDCB-FM
(90.9) will air live from the
Morton Grove Civic Center and
will be staged as an "open
house" for Schaden's fans. The
final program will consist of
highlights from Schaden's nearly
four-decade-long run helming
"Those Were the Days," which
re-airs great radio programs
from the 1930s, '40s and '50s --
programs that featured many
talents now considered show
business legends, including Bob
Hope, Edgar Bergen and Jack
Benny.
Schaden was under no
pressure to retire, but he felt
his 39th anniversary in radio
was the right time to do it.
Why? Well, as you might suspect,
it's partly an homage to one of
his favorite radio icons, Jack
Benny, who famously celebrated
his 39th birthday some 41 times.
Plus, Schaden turns 75 two days
after his final broadcast.
"That's 10 years after I would
normally have bowed out," said
Schaden.
Over nearly four decades
"Those Were the Days" was heard
on only three radio stations.
The show debuted in 1970 on the
defunct WLTD-AM (1590) in
Evanston, then moved to the
former WNIB-FM before it was
sold, and finally to WDCB in
2001.
(c) Copyright 2009
Chicago Sun-Times
*
* *
Michael
Sneed
Chicago
Sun-Times,
June
21,
2009
sneed@suntimes.com
Radio
Days
I
don't
stream,
I
don't
Twitter,
I
don't
do
Facebook.
But
at 1
p.m.
most
Saturdays,
I do
the
radio.
I
turn
my
radio
dial
to
WDCB-FM
(90.9);
sit
at
my
kitchen
table;
pay
bills,
answer
letters,
flutter
paper,
stamp
envelopes
. .
.
and
go
back
in
time
--
back
to
the
womb
of
my
grandmother's
kitchen,
where
the
radio
held
sway.
During
this
special
time,
there
is
no
laptop
streaming,
no
TV
blaring.
It's
now
post-World
War
II,
the
men
in
my
family
are
home,
and
Grandma
listens
to
the
sad
life
of
"Stella
Dallas,"
the
stories
of
"Pepper
Young's
Family"
and
the
antics
of
"Fibber
McGee
and
Molly"
while
she
cooks
and
watches
my
mother
put
on
an
apron.
Listening.
That's
what
I do
for
four
hours
on
Saturday;
listening
to a
guy
named
Chuck
Schaden
serve
up
the
golden
age
of
radio,
which
he
has
done
since
1970.
And
on
my
kitchen
windowsill
sits
a
small
black-and-white
photo
of
my
mother,
grandmother
and
me
in
my
grandparents'
kitchen.
It
was
taken
on
Nov.
16,
1948,
and
I
have
just
turned
5
years
old.
My
dark
hair
is
twisted
in
long
funnels;
I am
wearing
a
jumper
and
white
anklets,
and
I am
watching
the
most
important
women
in
my
young
life
frost
my
birthday
cake.
My
back
is
to
the
camera,
but
if
you
look
closely
you
can
spot
the
little
radio
in
the
windowsill
of
their
two-story
home
in
the
the
little
Missouri
River
town
of
Mandan,
N.D.
On
weekends,
we
would
spin
the
dial
on
the
large
Zenith
radio
up
against
the
wall
in
the
living
room,
where
we
listened
to
"Inner
Sanctum
Mysteries,"
"Gang
Busters"
and
"Suspense."
The
sounds
of
the
kitchen
radio
stopped
for
a
while,
when
my
grandmother
died.
Worn
out
from
the
daily
chores
of a
woman
in
ill
health,
she
passed
away
when
she
was
only
56.
It
changed
my
view
of
the
world;
death
had
crept
into
my
young
life.
The
radio
continued
to
occupy
a
place
in
my
mother's
kitchen
for
as
long
as I
can
remember.
But
the
magic
was
gone
. .
.
along
with
organ
music
and
a
world
before
1955.
Then,
sometime
in
the
1990s,
my
grandmother's
kitchen
magically
reappeared.
My
family
was
no
longer
separated
by
geography
. .
.
and
death.
I
became
addicted
by a
chance
turn
of
the
dial.
It
was
Chuck
Schaden's
radio
show.
Once
again,
I
was
helping
crank
up
homemade
ice
cream
in
the
backyard
. .
.
and
squeezing
the
orange
pellet
in
the
margarine
packet
to
make
it
look
like
butter.
I
got
to
re-hear
the
goofy
phrases
my
parents
once
used:
"He's
such
a
Stoopnagel"
. .
. or
"your
boyfriend
has
eyes
like
Moon
Mullins."
I
found
out
I
knew
most
of
the
words
to
the
1940s
torch
songs
and
laughed
again
when
Mel
Blanc
bleated:
"Kookamonga!"
How
much
I'd
forgotten.
How
wonderful
to
hear
it
once
again.
I
have
since
scrubbed
floors
listening
to
"Sam
Spade:
Private
Eye";
wrapped
Christmas
presents
listening
to
"The
Cinnamon
Bear";
howled
at
the
repartee
of
Phil
Harris,
and
am
held
in
wonder
at
the
comedic
timing
of
Jack
Benny.
Sadly,
although
the
radio
show
will
continue,
its
host
since
1970
has
decided
to
call
it a
day.
Schaden
is
retiring
next
Saturday.
Thankfully,
the
new
host
will
be
Schaden's
old
friend,
Steve
Darnell,
and
sidekick
Ken
Alexander
. .
.
but
I'll
miss
the
voice
I've
been
listening
to
for
nearly
15
years.
Retiring
after
39
years
on
the
radio,
Schaden
will
turn
75
on
June
29.
His
buddy,
Dan
McGuire,
thought
Schaden's
birthday
might
be
worth
a
mention
in
the
column.
How
about
a
whole
column,
Chuck?
My
Saturday
stint
at
the
kitchen
table
will
never
be
the
same;
your
voice
will
now
be
part
of
my
past.
But,
how
golden
it
has
all
been.
(c) Copyright 2009
Chicago Sun-Times
*
* * |
|
|
|
|
Chuck Schaden Bio
CHUCK SCHADEN,
who will retire on June 27, 2009, is
a broadcaster/historian who has produced and hosted
Those
Were The Days since 1970 and has been nationally recognized for his efforts.
He was inducted into the Radio Hall of Fame in 1993, the only radio fan to
be so honored.
A
former newspaper editor and marketing executive, he turned his hobby into a
vocation and draws from a collection of more than 50,000 vintage broadcasts to
prepare his programs.
He
is the founding editor and publisher of the Nostalgia Digest; author of WBBM Radio: Yesterday
and Today, a history of station WBBM, Chicago; and author of
Speaking of Radio
– Chuck Schaden’s conversations with the stars of the Golden Age of Radio,
published by his Nostalgia Digest Press.
From October, 2006 thru September, 2007 he hosted the nationally syndicated
old-time-radio series When Radio Was, replacing Stan Freberg.
The program was heard in more than 200 markets from coast-to-coast.
A
founding member of the Board of Directors of Chicago’s
Museum of
Broadcast Communications, he is the Midwest’s leading radio historian and
a resource for public libraries, metropolitan daily and community newspapers,
and colleges and universities throughout the country. He has provided
archive materials to the Library of
American Broadcasting at the University of Maryland and is an active member
of the First Generation Radio Archives,
an organization devoted to preserving radio's past.
Contact Chuck
ILLINOIS STYLE: The guru of old-time
radio
By RON PAZOLA
GLEN ELLYN, Ill. - If old-time radio
has a guru, Chuck Schaden is it.
For 35 years, Schaden has broadcast "Those Were The Days," a weekly show that
plays programs from what is known as the Golden Age of Radio. For the last year,
he also has hosted "When Radio Was."
During free moments of a recent broadcast of "Those Were The Days," Schaden
spoke about his long career, his passion for old radio shows and why he believes
old-time radio is still popular today.
"I'm just as enthusiastic about doing the show today as I ever was," Schaden,
73, said. "That's why I haven't gotten bored with it. I love planning the
program and deciding its content and broadcasting the show." "Those Were the
Days" airs Saturdays on WDCB-FM 90.9, the public radio station at College of
DuPage in Glen Ellyn.
According to Schaden, many of the radio programs that were broadcast during the
1930s, '40s and '50s still hold up today. "The listeners are the camera,"
Schaden said. "Through their imagination, they decorate the sets, costume the
actors and provide the pictures. TV and movies are spectator sports, while radio
is a participant sport. That's what keeps it fresh.
"Old time radio is not just a curiosity piece."
Schaden remembers running home from school as a boy to listen to his favorite
shows. There were "The Adventures of Superman," "The Lone Ranger," "The Cinnamon
Bear" and "Jack Armstrong, the All-American Boy"_ to name a few.
"My brother and I were sprawled on the floor, while my mother was knitting on
the couch and my father was sitting on an easy chair looking through a
magazine," Schaden said. "We were all listening to the radio."
The key was variety. There were comedies, mysteries, dramas, Westerns, variety
shows and big band music_ all on one station.
Some of Schaden's favorite shows are the "Jack Benny Program," "Suspense" and
the "Lux Radio Theater."
Schaden draws from more than 50,000 recordings of vintage broadcasts to prepare
his programs.
During one August edition of "Those Were The Days," Schaden played a 1949
broadcast of "My Friend Irma," a production of "Mice and Men" from 1949, a 1950
episode of the "Phil Harris-Alice Fey Show", a "World News Today "segment from
1942 and a 1957 broadcast of "Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar."
He and his co-host Ken Alexander also did a segment where they read snippets
from a May 8, 1949, issue of the Chicago Sun-Times. Alexander, a veteran radio
broadcaster, has been a regular on "Those Were The Days" for the past six years.
"I always wanted to be a radio broadcaster, but I didn't have the voice for it,"
said Schaden, who worked as a banker, a newspaper editor and a marketing
executive before he retired.
His collection of old radio shows began some 40 years ago when he jumped at the
chance to purchase some reel-to-reel tapes of vintage broadcasts from an East
Coast collector. His Morton Grove house is filled with recordings of old radio
programs.
It was his collection that landed him a part-time job with a small radio station
in Evanston. His first "Those Were The Days" show aired May 2, 1970.
"I haven't had to cut the grass on a Saturday afternoon since then," Schaden
said.
A service of the Associated Press(AP)
September 16, 2007
* * * *
*
35 Years of
'Those Were The Days'
By GARDNER KISSACK
What was life like in 1970?
For starters, Life was still a weekly magazine and people still compared it to
Look and the Saturday Evening Post. Time’s Man of the Year was West Germany’s
Willy Brandt, and the Berlin Wall was but nine years old.
The Baltimore Orioles beat the Cincinnati Reds 4-1 in the World Series and the
Kansas City Chiefs defeated the Vikings 23-7 to win Super Bowl IV.
Patton was a box office smash and John Wayne received his only Oscar for his
role in True Grit.
Popular songs included “Bridge Over Troubled Water” and “Everything is
Beautiful.”
President Nixon and Henry Kissinger were trying to end the war in Vietnam.
Prices were edging up; inflation was a growing problem; the oil crisis was
bubbling.
The threat of polyester pants, pants-suits, and jackets was looming (so to
speak), but we learned that they were too hot – or too cold – because they
didn’t “breathe” or absorb like cotton or wool, they unraveled and they
fuzzed-up.
A week’s worth of television brought viewers The FBI, Bonanza and Ed Sullivan on
Sunday; Gunsmoke and Laugh-In on Monday; Marcus Welby, M.D., Mod Squad, Beverly
Hillbillies and Green Acres on Tuesday; Hawaii 5-0 on Wednesday; The Odd Couple,
Flip Wilson, and Ironside on Thursday; The Brady Bunch and That Girl on Friday
and Let’s Make A Deal, Mannix, Lawrence Welk, and The Mary Tyler Moore Show on
Saturday.
Radio in 1970 was an amalgam of music, news, sports and talk, most of it on AM
radio. FM was in only a few homes and fewer automobiles. Radio’s Golden Age of
comedy, drama and variety had expired at least a decade earlier. “Prime time”
radio had moved from the evening hours of the preceding 40-some years to
“morning drive” time, which was filled with disc jockeys spinning the latest
version of rock and pop hits.
But in the spring of 1970, someone came along to do something for those who
longed for simpler times and the glories of radio’s earlier era.
At 1:05 p.m. Saturday, May 2, at WNMP, a small daytime AM radio station in
Evanston, Illinois, the first Those Were The Days program created, planned,
promoted and hosted by Chicago journalist Chuck Schaden went on the air.
Radio’s second Golden Age began with Schaden “bridging the sound gap between
yesterday and today...” His first program featured 1940s re-broadcasts of Ma
Perkins, The Thin Man and the Pepsodent Show, along with Billy Jones and Ernie
Hare as the Tasty Breadwinners from 1934.
Fast-forward 35 years to 2005, through thousands of hours of the best from the
Golden Age of Radio and only three different stations (WNMP, which became WLTD;
WNIB and WDCB) and the same Saturday afternoon time slot. Those Were the Days
has been on the air for three-and-a-half decades, longer than the original
Golden Age of Radio, considered by many historians to be 1930-55.
“I hardly ever met a radio show I didn’t like,” says Chuck Schaden, whose
observation seems to agree with his thousands of loyal listeners. “Oh, I’ve had
some I liked less that others, but they too deserve to be played.”
His collection of old radio shows began some 40 years ago when he jumped at the
opportunity to purchase some reel-to-reel tapes of “vintage” broadcasts from a
collector on the East Coast. Among his earliest acquisitions were Orson Welles’
“The War of the Worlds” and copies of Fibber McGee and Molly, The Jack Benny
Program and Suspense.
Schaden began collecting with a passion. “Some might call it an obsession and
that would be accurate, I guess. I couldn’t believe that I could find these
wonderful shows after having missed them so much since they went off the air a
decade or so earlier. I decided I wanted to have as many of them as possible.”
He found others with a similar passion. Each acquired programs from different
sources and they began trading copies of their tapes. Soon the few reels of tape
became many. “I may have had a thousand broadcasts by the late 1960s and some
weeks I might have received a hundred reels of tape in the mail,” explains
Chuck.
The collection kept growing and his thousands of shows were all documented, at
first on neatly typed loose-leaf pages, then on index cards and finally on a
computer data base. When the Museum of Broadcast Communications (MBC) opened in
Chicago in 1987 (Schaden was a founding member of the board), his collection
became the Museum’s core radio collection. “Chuck’s donation of his 50,000 hours
of radio programming was, without question, the most significant early
contribution made to the Museum,” recalls MBC founder/president Bruce DuMont.
One of the most satisfying results of his collection and broadcasts, Chuck
believes, is that the shows have been embraced by people who either missed them
the first time, or were too young to remember them, or who were not even born
yet. Being able to share the Golden Age of Radio with so many others is one more
part of an amazing legacy.
Not content with simply playing the old-time programs on the air each week,
Schaden sought opportunities to speak with the people who worked in front of the
microphones and behind the scenes during the great radio days.
Interviewing the stars of Radio’s Golden Age has played an important role on
Those Were The Days, providing fans with many hours of enjoyment, insight and
personal glimpses by those “voices” so well-known from radio.
During the first season of TWTD, indeed a mere six weeks into the show, Schaden
was at Sages’ East restaurant on North Michigan Avenue on June 16, 1970 where a
collection of radio personalities had gathered to celebrate their participation
in the “good old days of Chicago radio.” At that event, armed with a microphone
and portable tape recorder, Schaden talked with, among others, Little Orphan
Annie, Captain Midnight, Billy and Betty from the Jack Armstrong program, and
the director of Ma Perkins – Shirley Bell Cole, Paul Barnes, John Gannon,
Sarajane Wells and Phil Bowman, respectively. He was off and running!
A few weeks later, in September, Chuck sat across from Jack Benny, who was in
the Chicago area appearing at the Mill Run Theatre in suburban Niles, and they
talked about Mr. Benny’s radio days. “Can you imagine – I met Jack Benny!” Chuck
exclaims.
Before the second anniversary of Those Were The Days he had taped interviews
with Hans Conried, Mel Blanc, Agnes Moorehead, Hal Peary, Don Ameche, Ralph
Edwards, and Rudy Vallee.
Schaden’s interviews, which he prefers to call “conversations” and which come
across as two friends chatting, numbered at least 170 by 1989 and now total more
than 200. Not only is he well-prepared for each guest (many have commented that
he knows about their achievements better than they), but his enthusiasm for and
knowledge of the material relaxes the subjects and have led to some amazingly
insightful and personal revelations.
His interviews – conversations – gathered over all the years he has been on the
air, form the basis for his book Speaking of Radio, published in 2003.
Chuck Schaden has been a creative and imaginative coordinator of special
programming during the past 35 years of Those Were the Days. Each year he has
offered special seasonal and topical shows.
He begins the end-of-year holiday season with his annual
Hallowe’en broadcast on the last Saturday of October. This usually features a
combination of scary and mysterious dramas combined with spooky comedy shows
which he sends out to listeners via his “ghost-to-ghost network.” This is
followed a few weeks later by his annual November broadcast of appropriate
Thanksgiving episodes.
The Christmas season is filled with vintage holiday broadcasts offering “Radio
to Get Into the Holiday Spirit By.... to Plan Your Christmas List By... to
Address Christmas Cards By... to Wrap, Bake and Decorate By.” Listeners call to
report that they are keeping pace with his “schedule” or to tell him that they
are “way behind, so slow down!”
Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, Easter, Memorial Day, Independence Day,
Labor Day and Columbus Day have all received special TWTD treatment.
Schaden has featured scores of broadcasts devoted to the talents of specific
radio or motion picture stars, and those programs almost always contained one of
his interviews with the subject or an expert guest who talks about the star of
the day.
He has devoted multi-week salutes to such personalities as Bob Hope, Frank
Sinatra, Al Jolson, Bing Crosby and Humphrey Bogart, but there’s only one
performer who has been given the superstar treatment: Jack Benny. For 26 years
Benny has been the subject of “Jack Benny Month” on TWTD. “Listeners start
reminding me in late summer that they can’t wait for the next Jack Benny Month,”
says Chuck, who tells them with a smile, “I can’t wait either!”
On November 7, 1993 he was inducted into the Radio Hall of Fame, joining Jack
Benny, Fibber McGee and Molly, Norman Corwin and the scores of radio stars who
have been honored for their work on the air. “I am very proud of that. And I’m
the only fan in the Hall of Fame.” he says.
Schaden’s commemoration of World War II stands out as one of the most ambitious,
interesting and historical special events ever presented on Those Were The Days.
Beginning on Saturday, December 7, 1991, to commemorate the 50th Anniversary of
the attack on Pearl Harbor, he set out on an interesting journey. “I decided we
should follow the progress of the war as it was reported on radio and as the war
effort insinuated itself into radio programming.”
His four-year odyssey became an aural history of World War II, 50 years after
the earth-shaking agony of the conflict. Programming was chronological: war news
was broadcast as it unfolded in the 1940s, complete with up-to-the-minute
emergency bulletins, speeches, news reports, on-the-air eyewitness accounts of
battles or attacks, with network correspondents giving first-hand descriptions
of what they saw and experienced in Europe, in north Africa or in the Pacific.
President Roosevelt’s Fireside Chats were an important part of the undertaking,
which included news coverage of D-Day, the Battle of the Bulge, the death of
F.D.R., the end of the war in Europe, the dropping of the atomic bomb, and the
surrender of Japan.
In an age when there was no television coverage of the war, it was radio that
provided the most personal, important and latest news of world events.
Newspapers had, in many cases, more detailed coverage, but it took time to print
and distribute the newspapers. Motion picture newsreels offered coverage of
certain events of the war, but they often took several days to get to movie
houses across the U.S. So it was left to radio to inform the public daily and
immediately. Radio was a most trusted and reliable news source, and it captured
the events of the war in a way not experienced before or since.
World War II was radio’s war and radio was ready for it, not only with the news
reports and speeches, but also with special programs and all types of
entertainment shows that had something to say about the war, if only to remind
listeners to “buy War Bonds” or “save used fats” or to observe rationing of
food, rubber and other goods necessary to win the war. Jack Benny donated his
Maxwell to the scrap drive and Fibber McGee was certain that his neighbor was a
Nazi spy. Bob Hope entertained at military bases and Eddie Cantor broadcast from
the Hollywood Canteen for servicemen.
Schaden’s four-year, 50th anniversary commemoration was so well-received that
for the war’s 60th anniversary, beginning in 2001, he added pre-Pearl Harbor
coverage of the war in Europe and some other newly-acquired 1940s programs to
the mix.
How has Those Were The Days been able to survive all these years?
“The old shows were good,” Chuck says simply. “If they weren’t any good back in
those radio days, they wouldn’t be any good now. But they have staying-power.
They were well-written and well-performed. They are not ‘dated’ by costumes or
scenery or automobiles, all of which tend to ‘date’ movies or TV shows.
“The listener provides those things by using his imagination. The listener
costumes the actors and decorates the set. He is a participant, not a spectator”
and, Schaden adds, “the listener has been primarily responsible for our being
here for 35 years. The stations, yes, of course. Our various sponsors and
underwriters, for sure. But the listener, who has been with us while we take our
weekly trip to radio’s past has made it all possible, absolutely. I will always
be grateful.”
* * *
* *
A nostalgic look at
radio’s Golden Age
By STEVE DARNALL
When Chuck Schaden prepared to interview
actress Agnes Moorehead in 1971, her handlers presented two directives. First,
she was there to promote United General Theaters’ new "mini-theater" concept (we
know them now as multiplexes) and he should stick to that subject. Second, he
had five minutes.
As the host of the weekly nostalgia-fest
"Those Were The Days" (now heard Saturdays from 1-5 p.m. on WDCB-FM 90.9),
Schaden was willing to honor their first request, even though he was more
interested in asking Moorehead about acting opposite Orson Welles on "The
Shadow" or impersonating Eleanor Roosevelt on "The March of Time." As for the
second request...
"I didn’t care if they dragged me out by my
heels; I wasn’t going to do five minutes," Schaden recalls with a laugh from his
Morton Grove home. "Then I started talking with Miss Moorehead about her radio
work... and something happened. She realized that I wasn’t just some guy
representing a three-minute sound bite for some radio station; I knew about her
career on radio." After a few minutes, Moorehead’s handlers began moving in to
wrap things up "and she put her hand out to stop them. It was a very gratifying
conversation."
In the three decades since then, Schaden has
spoken with dozens of actors, directors and writers who took part in that era
known as the Golden Age of Radio. Some were big stars and required listening
(including Jack Benny, Eve Arden and Don Ameche), while others were dependable
character actors; a majority of them are no longer with us.
What Schaden learned about radio history from
these conversations could fill a book, and with the publication of his interview
anthology "Speaking of Radio" (Nostalgia Digest Press, 420 pages, $27;
www.nostalgiadigest.com), it has.
"When I first went on the air, all I thought
about was going on the air with the radio shows," Schaden recalls. "But that
wore off for me quickly. It seemed natural for me to want to talk more about the
programs and the performers and learn more from the performers. When I started
doing this, there was no real written history of the popular culture of radio
and its programs and performers. All of these interviews – each in its own way –
helped fill me in on what was going on."
The 46 interviews in "Speaking of Radio" paint
a fascinating picture of the birth and growth of America’s first real mass
medium, before satellite communications and the ascension of shrill, opinionated
hosts. In those days, as former announcer Harry Von Zell told Schaden in 1974,
radio was "the most intimate and socially personal medium in the world."
As many of Schaden’s interviewees explain,
radio also offered creative options that movies and television couldn’t. Actress
Lurene Tuttle echoed the sentiments of many radio actors when she told Schaden,
"On the air, I could be the most glamorous, gorgeous, tall, black-haired female
you’ve ever heard in your life. Whatever I wished to be, I could be with my
voice." (Tuttle later became a respected acting coach whose students included a
young Helen Hunt.) In one 1976 interview, Mercedes McCambridge (who gave voice
to the demon in "The Exorcist") recalled playing Tiny Tim opposite John and
Lionel Barrymore in a Christmas Eve radio production of "A Christmas carol,"
despite being so pregnant that she would give birth to her son four hours later.
Because radio emphasized sound and vocal
ability, a truly versatile actor was in great demand. As Schaden points out,
many of his subjects "talk about how they were racing from one program to
another." Former Chicago actor Willard Waterman told Schaden about appearing "on
three networks within 45 minutes. I did the show on CBS [from the Wrigley
Building], ran across the street to the Tribune Tower [the home of WGN]... and I
had about three minutes plus the commercials to make the show [at The
Merchandise Mart, then-home of WMAQ]." Actors who arrived late for a show often
blamed the bridge spanning the Chicago River; years after relocating to
California, a group of Chicago actors formed "The Bridge Is Up Club."
Schaden admits that the book is probably
best-suited for "someone who’s interested in the popular culture of radio,"
conceding that "the interviews did not start out to be any sort of in-depth look
at the total history of radio. It’s more a look at radio as an item in the
popular culture, and these are the people who made it popular."
Even so, "Speaking of Radio" is more than a
niche book: It’s also a fascinating glimpse into the life of actors in the first
half of the 20th Century. Radio veteran (and former Lakeview High School
student) Les Tremayne told Schaden that radio, more than anything before or
since, allowed an actor to become "an upstanding, home-owning,
stay-in-one-place, family-raising... good-credit-risk individual."
Many of those actors, like Tremayne, were
based in Chicago, which was a major radio hub until the early 1940s, and as a
result, tales of the old Windy City abound in "Speaking." Jim Jordan (better
known to radio listeners as "Fibber McGee") recalled coming out of vaudeville in
the early 1920s to sing at Chicago’s WIBO on the corner of Broadway and Devon;
he and his wife received a whopping $10 a week. Waterman recalled having a room
at the Croydon Hotel where he could change into evening clothes – required dress
for most prime-time dramatic shows.
"I think in some cases, these people would
talk to me with a Chicago slant," Schaden says. "I think it just added to the
rapport we had. If they said they were at Broadway and Devon, I would nod and
say "Yes, I understand," and it was because I did understand! I didn’t have the
blank look of an interviewer saying ‘Uh-huh.’ "
As these actors pass on, Schaden’s research
becomes more invaluable. In fact, many of the actors in "Speaking" confess that
his questions remind them of a resume credit they had forgotten. Tremayne, now
90 years old, recalls that "I kept pretty good records, but they were all in my
head." Today, the former star of "The First Nighter" anthology happily
acknowledges that Schaden has done wonders to make later generations aware of
the work of Tremayne and his colleagues.
When Chuck announced that Les was celebrating
his 90th birthday [in April 2003], we got several hundred cards from the
listeners," recalls Tremayne’s wife Joan, "which meant that had to take the time
to sit down, write a card and get it in the mail for the deadline. When your
listeners cooperate to that extent, that’s when you find out what wonderful
people he’s working with and what they think of him."
That respect for both his audience and his
source material is why Schaden chose to publish "Speaking of Radio" himself. "I
have a lot of friends who’ve written published books, and they all seem to tell
the same story: Once they turn it over to the publisher, they’re sitting on the
street, they have no input.
"I’m a publisher who has great respect for the author," he
jokes, "and I’m not messing around with the author."
This article about Chuck Schaden's book
Speaking of Radio was published in the
Arts & Entertainment section of the Chicago Tribune October 26, 2003.
©2003 Chicago Tribune
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