Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1948)

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Take advantage of this Fully Guaranteed Introductory Offer today, and know at last the happiness of possessing really lovelier hair and be envied by so many. JUEL COMPANY, 4727 N. Damen, Chicago 25, Illinois rrtacejAu introductory coupon! JUEL COMPANY, Dept. F-610 4727 North Damen, Chicago 25, III. Y' , I want easy-to-manage, longer hair. 1 will try the JUELENE SYSTEM for 7 days. If my mirror doesn't show satisfactory results, 1 will ask for my money back. D I am enclosing $1.00. D Send C. O. D. plus postage. JUELENE Comes in 2 Forms D POMADE D LIQUID i CITY. . ZONE STATE_ At drug and department stores or by mall if your drug • gist cannot supply yon at this time. 90 room one afternoon and announced, "I'm going to do some publicity writeups on you." "That's nice," I answered. Since publicity writers look very much like other people I had no reason to suspect that she wasn't one of them. "What paper do you write for?" I asked. "I'm very sorry but I can't tell you," she said mysteriously. I should have realized then that something was wrong. We didn't have time for an interview that afternoon, but she came back the same evening. I explained that I was due at an accordion studio for a rehearsal. "I'll come too," she said firmly. From then on I couldn't get rid of her. She followed me everywhere. After a day or so she stopped pretending that she was a publicity writer and told me that she could teach me some wonderful secret tricks on the accordion. This sounded even sillier than the publicity story and I told her so. But she continued to hang around. One night, the whole thing came to a climax. We had done six stage shows that day, and at eleven thirty, Harold Peck and I were both dead tired. I called down to the stage-door to see if my "fan" was still there. She was. "Waiting to have a midnight snack with you," was the message the stagedoor man relayed. "Let's wait up here in the dressing room until she gets tired and goes away," suggested Harold Peck. We sat there for over an hour, practically falling asleep on each other's shoulders. Then Harold went out and took a peek at the stage-door. She was still there. "We have to do something," he announced dramatically. I followed his gaze to the fire-escape outside of our dressing room window. We nodded to each other. Very quietly we put on our coats and started climbing down the three stories to the sidewalk. The street below was still brightly lit and the weekend crowds milled about. Keeping a weather eye out for the policeman standing on the corner, we proceeded down the side of the building. Finally we reached the bottom and just as we were about to drop the last six feet to the sidewalk, our lady of the stage door spotted us. Then with her eyes blazing and her hands on her hips, she began to call us some pretty awful names. For a minute or two we just dangled there above the sidewalk while an amused crowd gathered below us to watch the spectacle. This was too much, especially since the corner policeman was heading our way. Without a word, Harold and I jumped right into the middle of the crowd and hightailed it down the street. "You'll never get very far in show business with your attitude," she screamed, her voice fading in the distance. I thought of all the things I could have told her when it was too late, for she never showed up again. That incident was just one little thorn in an otherwise perfect bed of roses. I went on with Mr. Heidt through Des Moines, Minneapolis, Youngstown and Cleveland. The .competition didn't lessen in the slightest. Every one of those performers was outstanding, and Dick Melari from Cleveland really had me jumping there with his sensational imitations of the top crooners. The stop after Cleveland was none other than Brooklyn, and it was there that I was sure my "championship streak" would be abruptly ended. Brooklynites are famous for the way they stick together and boost each other. Yet when I got up to play, they were as good to me as if I were a native of Flatbush. After Brooklyn, came contests in the Bronx, Long Island, and Manhattan. I was holding my breath. I had won thirteen times straight, and the fourteenth program was the quarter-finals. Then, that fourteenth Sunday night, with my Mom and Dad sitting in the audience in New York, taking their first vacation after fifteen years of sacrifice and hard work in their butcher shop, I knew I'd have to win ... for them. I played with all the heart and skill I possessed and sat down still dizzy with tension and excitement. The five minutes that elapsed between my number and the decision of the judges in the audience seemed like an eternity. When the announcer finally broke the news that I had won my fourteenth straight victory and the seven hundred and fifty dollar prize, I was happier than at any time before in my life. Right now I have a weekly guest spot on the Horace Heidt Talent Contest and of course I'm still touring with Mr. Heidt's stage show. There won't be any more competition for me until the finals roll around in six months, with a grand prize of five thousand dollars at stake. Until then, I can relax, see the country, take a little time out for dreaming, and enjoy the friendship of the wonderful people who helped all this happen to me. out o£ mcf, m&ututy&f — So writes one devoted listener to "My True Story" Radio Program. "These dramas are so rrue to life they absorb my attention completely. I listen while I work — and the housework gets done without drudgery!" Listen to radio's greatest morning show — presenting a complete true-life drama every day Monday through Friday; produced in co-operation with the editors of True Story magazine. <* "MY TRUE STORY" American Broadcasting Company