The Educational screen (c1922-c1956])

Page 18 observable now in our survey of the non- theatrical field in New England. The promoter in this instance was not by birth a product of that rock-bound soil, having first seen the light at Moteleh, Russia, in 1876. He was the son of David and Rachel Chemerinsky but, upon his arrival in the United States at the age of fourteen, he became plain Philip Davis. He received his first formal education at Hull House, the famous Chicago social settlement of Jane Addams, remaining there until, at twenty-two years of age, he entered Lewis Institute. After a year there and another at the University of Chicago, he moved into the New England atmosphere of Cambridge, matriculating at Harvard University and emerging about 1903 with an A.B. degree. He had a natural interest in sociology, and Harvard, especially then, was an excellent place to nurture it. Davis continued his bent by becoming from 1903 to 1905, a national organizer of the Ladies' Garment Workers of America. In 1906 he started a half-dozen years as supervisor of the Boston News- boys' Republic and of the Boston News- boys' Court for the Boston public schools. For three years more he was director of the $50,000 campaign for the Massachu- setts Credit Union, and also a head worker in the Civic Service House at Boston. During the Worid War he was superintendent of employment in the wel- fare department of the American Inter- national Shipbuilding Corporation at Hog Island, Pennsylvania, and, when the conflict was over, he served as a field lecturer for the United Americans of the State of Maine. At intervals in all this activity, he wrote and edited books and magazine articles dealing with social problems, all creditably done. Knowing these facts, one would say that Philip Davis might be a brilliant acquisition for the non-theatrical field and, without a doubt, he has left a useful impress. He did not come into pictures all at once. But surely he must have thought about them at an early date, for tlie social worker, above all, is one to ponder on any mfluence which affects life so profoundly. Davis's lecture work, too, must have brought him into contact with films. Then, also, he knew the Fosters. In all events, at the close of the ^Yar he became New England representative of Community Pictures. When Community faded, he sought other sources of supply for his remaining customers; and present- ly he became agent over the same terri- tory for the Pathe non-theatrical depart- ment. He then ventured to make non-theatri- cal productions on his own account. Among these may be named: "Jack Spruce; or. Life in the Northern Woods"; "Forbidden Waters," featuring the work of the U. S. Coast Guards; and "From Whorls to Cloth," an industrial of the usual pattern. Along about 1924 he con- ceived the idea of making industrial films under the auspices of the Boston Po.sf. Three one-reelers were produced: "Your Hat and Mine," a tour of the hat in- dustry; "Harvesters of the Deep," pre- senting the work of the Gloucester fisher- men; and "The New England Home," With studio activities in New York, Chicago, Detroit and Hollywood, and customers at points between, Norman Wilding's experience as a traveling salesman serves him well. describing the manufacture of asphalt shingles. But, for some reason or other, all of the editors apparently did not un- derstand that their newspaper was to be used as a sort of stalking-horse for in- dustrial payments to Davis. When the situation became really clear, they re- pudiated the scheme, much to Davis's discomfiture. Nevertheless, the idea was basically sound—to produce films on the industries of New England, sponsored by a leading New England newspaper and released by Davis's National Motion Picture BureaU; of Medford, Massachusetts. I have al- ready noted that the Argus Company, in the Midwest, had tried a similar plan in cooperation with the Cleveland Plain Dealer. The entire arrangement, financed by the manufacturers and operated at cost, might have performed an excellent .social service, given industrial films a foothold in the area, and shown a real profit ultimately to all concerned. And. despite the setback, Davis was not through. We will hear more of him 50on again, with still another excellent idea. Next Month Completing the round of Chi- cago's non-theatrical commer- cial producers, the survey con- tinues westward by the northern route to Minneapolis, St. Paul and Kansas City, headed for the Pacific Coast. After that comes a return eastward by the southern route, with more stops along the way. And still this previously untold history is only just begun. The entire story is available exclusively to regular readers of Educational Screen. Subscribe now. The Educational Screen Wilding Along with this example of the man who came from the level midland area to New England's rugged hills, it is in- teresting to examine the case of another non-theatrical pioneer who went from New England to the Lakes. This adven- turous soul was Norman E. Wilding, salesman on the road for a lighting fix- ture concern in Connecticut. I did not know Wilding then, but I have no doubt that he was as successful in that line as anyone could have been in similar circumstances. Chipper, world- ly-wise, ready with the latest story from the road, rapid-fire in speech—and think- ing of business advantage every minute of every waking hour—he must have been popular with customers and other members of his traveling fraternity. The reason for his giving up that line I can only suppose to have been that he tired of it, and longed, like the energetic soul he was and is, for something more active. Anyway, somehow or other he fell in with a group of Chicago men who had a picture idea. It was not an original idea, but that was one of the facts which ap- pealed to Wilding because, having been tried before, it had proved to a gratifying extent that it worked. The proposition was to show propaganda pictures—indus- trials, chiefly—in the theatres. To carry it out the backers had formed a concern called the Commonwealth Film Company. They had no pictures yet, but they'd find those as soon as they had the distribution arranged. In fact, there were plenty of such films already made, spoiling on the shelves just because their owners had no worthwhile places to screen them. I can close my eyes and hear the rea- soning. In such cases it is always the same. At all events, it sounded right enough to young Wilding and, altliough he had no particular theatrical connec- tions then, he undertook to organize a large portion of such needed distribution in a territory with which he was particu- larly well acquainted—Michigan. With characteristic push, he promptly accom- plished his part of the bargain. Then he discovered that the required films were not as readily obtainable as they had seemed to be. Possibly those New Eng- land customers, with factory pictures spoiling on their shelves, had taken the human point of view that they would not now send good money after bad, for they, of course, were the ones expected to pay for the service. Wilding waited and waited, and still the promised pictures did not arrive. All the while his active mind was busy with the pros and cons. In his general line of salesmanship, signed contracts were de- finitely valuable properties. These in his possession were depreciating with time even more rapidly than the unmoved factory pictures. Why not, he reflected, turn them to his own account? So he abandoned Commonwealth to its seem- ingly undependable devices and decided that, if the films were not otherwise to be had, he would produce them himself. Which was the start of the Norman E. Wilding Enterprises of Detroit. (To be continued)