Radio doings (Dec 1930-Jun1932)

Are the Hill Billies FAKES ? WHEN the genial and adroit Mr. Rice, manager of KMPC and the "Tall-feller"'' whose brain child the Hill Billies are, tells his story to you, you listen and wonder and try to believe — but realize that you ought to know better. And yet, when you join the throngs who each night come to see the Hill Billies in person, who sit and stand hundreds deep, unaware of their uncomfortable physical surroundings, so enthralled are they that the Hill Billies have come back again — why, then, you're certain it must be true, for surely these hundreds of intelligent radio fans couldn't be bamboozled. Now, could they? The story Glen Rice tells you is of the stuff of which scenarios are made. There's romance in it, and mystery, and suspense. There's humor, too, not scintillating and sparkling, but commonsensical and significant. Q And this is the story. He had heard strange rumors that a band of mountaineers were supposed to exist somewhere in the remote vastnesses of the Malibu mountains, back of Beverly Hills. Led by his own pioneering instincts — for was it not an ancestor of his, William Leland Rice, who had received the first land-grant in Tennessee over a hundred years ago? — he set out to discover the place where Simple Life was making its last stand. Early in April, 1930, his diligence was rewarded. Just as the sun was setting deep into the ocean Rice spurred his horse over the crest of a rugged canyon, deeper into the range than he had ever been before and below was "Partly," says Glen Rice, whose brain children they are. "But what of it?" By FANYA GERVIG a green valley, dotted with log cabins and wooden shacks. When he knocked at one of the doors, presumably to ask directions back to Beverly Hills, he was invited to stay to supper, with a promise of an escort when the moon rose. His host had never heard of Beverly Hills, but he guessed it was that thar town spread out at the foot of the hills 'way below. Supper over, the backwoodsmen awaited the rising of the moon by singing old ballads of the sea and plains, accompanying themselves on guitars, accordians, and old-fashioned fiddles. Q Half-a-dozen of the younger mountaineers set out with Rice, whom they nick-named "Tall-feller." Riding their mules and horses, the rough mountain lads sang cowboy ditties and lone The Hill Billies, under the leadership of Glen Rice, "Mr. Tall-feller," have leaped into the public's fancy as one of the most popular features on the air. Elton Britt, (left) is from the mountains of Arkansas some ballads. Rice was captivated by the sweetness of their voices and the charm of their utter naturalness. They all seemed so plaintive, so artless, and so sincere . . . The last hill topped, the mountaineers paused to view for the first time the broad lighted valley beneath them. They had vague glimmerings of civilization; of vehicles that propelled themselves with great rapidity; of machines that hurtled through the air; of voices and sounds that appeared from nowhere when dials were turned. ^ Rice was not content to let them depart. And they, charmed by the stories he told them and the glamor of his promises, came with him to the very door of the radio station. They tied their horses and mules to posts and followed Rice into the studio. Someone was standing at the head of a room, leaning against a piano, singing. The mountaineers listened, mouths wide open, and when that program ended and Tall-feller asked them if they wouldn't sing a song or two, they consented. They put on a program, unprepared and unrehearsed, you understand, and so charmed were the spectators in the studio itself and so enthusiastic the telephone messages of the listeners-in, that the Malibu mountaineers could never have gotten away if they hadn't promised to come back again the very next night! And their reception each night has been so equally enthusiastic that these Hill Billies, as they now are called, return RADIO DOINGS Page Eighteen