We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.
Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.
BEST BROADCASTS OF 1939-40
which the broadcast finally reaches the air is not on German soil. In the case of the news shows from Finland, therefore, it was necessary to transmit the program across Germany, from her most northern to her most southwestern border, then to order Swiss lines to carry the show an addi¬ tional 140 miles past the shoulder of the Alps to Geneva. Here it reached the air for the first time. Geneva shortwaved it to the receiving towers at Riverhead, Long Island. At Riverhead it was once more put back on tele¬ phone lines and brought to master control in the studios of WABC, the New York station for CBS. Master control put it on another line running to a little town in New Jersey about 19 miles from Manhattan Island, the town of Wayne, and at Wayne it finally reached the air as a broadcast. That is how the bad news was brought from Viborg or Abo or whatever Finnish town it might have been and how it finally got on the air in America and into your living room. I believe any reader can see what an effort this was.
The human problem is often as bad as or worse than the problem of physical facilities. Edmond Taylor, CBS correspondent in Bordeaux following the French govern¬ ment’s evacuation of Paris, recently returned to the United States with an illuminating story about the type of problem he had to cope with over there. He writes :
In Bordeaux and Tours, facilities were primitive, to say the least. In Tours we could not even get a time check, and when Eric Sevareid (chief of the CBS Paris bureau) and I protested to an unsympathetic French engineer, he pointed to a kitchen clock on the wall of the improvised studio and said, “What’s the matter with that?”
In Bordeaux, we used a reasonably well-appointed French studio, but in the general confusion we were left to shift for ourselves. The night that the Reynaud government fell, Sevareid and I, after a wild dash without headlights through a mile of winding, inky black streets, arrived panting in the studio and announced we had a flash for America.
The studio engineer said it was all right with him, but there was a lady playing the mandolin to South America and she was to be on for another fifteen minutes. We burst into the studio, and, after an acrimonious argument, which was probably heard all
328