The Pictures of My Youth
By Bill Russo
What fascinated me as a child was the theater of the mind - radio.
As a young boy in the 1940s, my bedtime (seemingly forever) was 8 p.m. My brother, who was two years older than me, also had to go to bed at eight. We shared a bedroom in a tiny four-room apartment in a four-family house that my father bought with his GI Bill (the 1944 Serviceman’s Readjustment Act, which helped war veterans with funds for college, to buy a house, or train for a vocation.)
Our room contained bunk beds. My brother being older, claimed the bottom bunk for himself, so I had to climb a ladder every night, to get up to the top bunk. After I fell out of bed a few times and plunged loudly and painfully to the floor, my mother made my brother take the top bunk and I was allowed to have the bottom one.
Most children back then, and even today, complain about their bedtime. They want to stay up late. I never did. I loved going to bed at 8 p.m. because we had a large table-model radio, with a glowing dial that sent a warm, if dim, light through our room. And the sounds that came from that radio were so thrilling that even today as I write this, more than 70 years later, I can still vividly recall the wonderful tales spun by shows like “Lights Out”, “The Inner Sanctum” and “The Shadow”. The programs were scary and delightful at the same time.
I loved radio so much that I was not really interested one day in 1950, when my father brought up the subject of getting a television. There were not many homes that had TV back then. In our neighborhood there was just one. The owners of that TV home allowed us kids to peek through their living room window on Saturday afternoons so that we could see for ourselves the animated black and white programs that were offered on early television. It was interesting to watch the television, but I felt then, and actually still do, that a story presented on the radio, has much more impact than one shown on video.
My father asked my brother and I a question, “Would you boys rather have a television or a new baby brother or sister?” We both answered right away. With no hesitation, we told Dad that we’d rather have a new brother or sister, instead of a TV. Little did we know that it was a trick question, and that a child was already in the works!
Later that year, 1950, my mom gave birth to a little girl. We were thrilled to have her. We doted on her. She was 7 years younger than me and 9 years younger than my brother, so she was indeed, our ‘baby’ sister, Marie!
A few months after she was born, my father once again summoned my brother and me and gave us some interesting information. “I was very proud of you boys when you said that you’d rather have a new brother or sister, than a television. I’ve decided that you can have both! This Friday, a brand-new television will be delivered to our house.”
I told you that I was a big fan of radio and that’s true. But it is also true that there was a TV show that I was desperate to watch! It was called the Howdy Doody Show, starring Buffalo Bob Smith and a large-sized puppet named Howdy Doody. The program started in 1947 and by 1950 was one of the most popular shows on television.
Both my brother and I were eagerly anticipating the delivery of the TV. On Friday afternoon, I came home from school as fast as I could, and I saw that there was a truck from the TV store, parked in front of our house. I went inside and saw the big, heavy wooden box with the small, round viewing screen near the top.
I asked the delivery man if we could watch it.
“Not yet,” he said, “It won’t work until we get the antenna set up.”
“How long will it take?” I wondered. “Howdy Doody is coming on a five p.m., and I’d like to be able to watch it?”
“I can’t say how long it’s going to take,” he replied, with a touch of anger.
Then he walked over to one of the living-room windows and opened it. We were on the ground floor of our two story, four family house. He shouted something to a man who was standing outside on the sidewalk. The outside man yelled up at a third man who had climbed a huge ladder, and was standing on the roof, holding a large, multi-armed-aluminum-antenna, which he strapped to the chimney. Yes, in 1950, it took three men to install a television set!
I looked at the clock and saw that it was close to 4:30 and Howdy Doody was scheduled to start in 30 minutes!
I asked again. “Are you gonna have the TV set ready by five o’clock?”
Shooting a hard look at me without answering me, the living-room man, called out to the sidewalk man and said, “I’m going to turn the set on now. Tell Charlie on the roof to turn the antenna when I tell him to.”
Firing another hard look at me, the living-room man turned on the set. After about 20 seconds the viewing screen began to glow, then fuzzy, scratchy lines appeared. They scrolled up and down the screen.
“Tell Charlie to turn the antenna towards the harbor,” said the living-room man.
“Hey Charlie, see where the harbor is? Turn the antenna in that direction,” said the sidewalk-man.
“I’m turning it now. Hows’ that?” said Charlie on the roof.
“He’s turning it now. How’s that? - said the sidewalk man.
“It’s a little better,” replied the living-room man. “Tell him to turn it about another foot.”
“It’s a little better Charlie, hollered the sidewalk-man, “Turn it About another foot!”
Meanwhile back on the ground floor, I looked at the clock and saw that it was 4:45 - only fifteen minutes before the start of Howdy Doody.
“Is the TV going to be working in time for Howdy Doody?” - I asked again, fearful that I’d miss the opening of the show, when Howdy would sing———————————————-
‘It’s Howdy Doody Time. It’s Howdy Doody Time. Bob Smith and Howdy too, Say Howdy Do to you. Let’s give a rousing cheer, Cause Howdy Doody’s here, It’s time to start the show, So kids let’s go!”
Shooting another dagger from fiery eyes, Living-room man growled, “I don’t know kid. We’re turning the antenna and when we get it in the exact right position, we should get a picture.”
On it went - until finally at about 4:55 p.m., the fuzzy lines turned into the shape of a test pattern. Success!
Ah but where was Howdy Doody? Back in 1950, radio still ruled the landscape, at least until 5 p.m., because the TV stations did not go on the air until five in the afternoon on weekdays. And the first program on channel four was the Howdy Doody show - and sure enough, at five p.m. the test pattern dissolved, and the TV station signed on with Howdy Doody singing his song.
As good as it was, and as good as TV was, and is, I still prefer the vivid pictures that I saw on the radio in the 1940s to any pictures that I have ever seen on television.
